saying. And didn't want to. She preferred listening to the humming
grass and the monotonous lowing of the cattle on the hill beyond the
gravesite.
Darren was to have his farm at last, in Ireland, though he would never
ride a tractor or chase the lazy spotted cows.
It was a lovely place, with the grass so green it looked like a
painting. She would remember the emerald grass and the fresh, vital
scent of earth newly turned. She would remember the feel of the air
against her face, air so moist from the sea it might have been tears.
There was a church nearby, a small stone structure with a white steeple
and little windows of stained glass. They had gone inside to pray
before the little glossy casket had been carried out. Inside it had
smelled strongly, and too sweetly, of flowers and incense. Candles had
been burning even though the sun ran through the stained glass in
colorful streams.
There had been painted statues of people in robes, and one of a man
bleeding on a cross. Brian had told her it was Jesus who was looking
after Darren in heaven. Emma didn't think anyone who looked so sad and
tired could take care of Darren and make him laugh.
Bev had said nothing at all, only stood, her face pale as glass. Stevie
had played the guitar ajain, as he had at the wedding, but this time he
was dressed in black and the tune was sad and quiet.
Emma didn't like it inside the church, and was glad when they stood
outside in the sunlight. Johnno and P.M., whose eyes had been red from
weeping, had carried the casket, along with four other men who were
supposed to be her ceiusins. She wondered why it had taken so many to
carry Darren, who hadn't been heavy at all. But she was afraid to ask.
It helped to look at the cows, and the tall grass and the birds that
glided overhead.
Darren would have liked his farm, she thought. But it didn't seem
right, it didn't seem fair that he couldn't be standing beside her,
ready to race and run and laugh.
He shouldn't be in that box, she thought. He shouldn't be an angel,
even if it meant he had wings and music. If she had been strong and
brave, if she had kept her promise, he wouldn't be. She should be in
the box, she realized as tears began to fall. She had let bad things
happen to Darren. She hadn't saved him from the monsters.
Johnno picked her up when she began to cry. He swayed a little, and the
movement was comforting. She laid her head on his shoulder and listened
to the words he spoke along with the priest.
""The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want ..." But she did want.
She wanted Darren. Blinking tears from her eyes, she tried to watch the
grass move with the wind. She heard her father's voice, thick with
grief.
... walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no
evil ..."
But there was evil, she wanted to shout. There was evil, and it had
killed Darren. Evil had no face.
She watched a bird swoop overhead, and followed its path. On the