The Death Mask

by Tom Raimbault

  Before everyone would be invited to help themselves to food, Michael carried a box up to a podium that sat on an elevated portion of the floor. Then he spoke into the microphone which immediately quieted the room. A grieving husband who speaks at his deceased wife's funeral dinner was not a common occurrence.

  Being president of Dickly's Hardware and addressing groups of people at meetings or conventions was second nature for Michael. “Ladies and gentlemen, I first want to thank everyone for joining our family, today. It's been a very, sad week; not only for Paulette and myself, but Linsey's parents, two brothers and the rest of her family. But thank you for coming out, extending your sympathies and sharing your family recipes. I can't wait to try what everyone has brought. Keep in mind it's an open bar, and look: I was sure to bring plenty of Saulmon's bacon!”

  The entire room laughed in reply. The bacon was a silly tradition, but always followed.

  Michael continued, “I want to share with you something I had worked on throughout the week. Needless to say, the loss of Linsey has deeply affected me. I had a death mask made of Linsey…” Michael opened the box and carefully pulled out Linsey's statue-head. Then he set it on the podium.

  Paulette looked up from her wheelchair in horror as tears streamed down her cheeks. Had Father lost his mind? How could he have done such a thing?

  Michael continued, “Then I continued filling her face with clay, formed a head and added the hair. The end product now sits up here with me. As you can see, she looks to be only sleeping; but she's here with us in spirit.” Michael kissed his wife on the forehead. “She's not completely finished. I want to color her face so that she looks exactly how I remember her. She is very important to me. I hope you all like my work.”

  There were a couple seconds of silence before broker Jack Swieley stood up from his seat and announced, “It's beautiful!” He clapped his hands, eager to get everyone else to applaud so that eating could finally begin. Soon every followed, including family—everyone, that is, but Paulette and the immediate family on Linsey's side.

  Linsey remained on the podium throughout dinner. The word dinner is used, but really it was a huge luncheon served at one o'clock in the afternoon. People continued to fill up on Swedish meatballs over egg noodles, slow-cooked cocktail wieners in barbeque sauce, spaetzle, homemade pierogies with polish sausage (from Saulmon's), hearty chili and stews; the list just went on! And there was plenty of drinking, too! Linsey's funeral was a big success. But there was one event that had yet to take place.

  While Michael appeared to be finishing a conversation at the food table, a beautiful, young lady with long, light-brown hair carefully approached with her eyes deeply set onto Michael. He froze while she approached. The noise in the room was suddenly far off in the distance, barely heard. The young woman stuck out her hand while asking, “Mr. Dickly?”

  He quickly answered while taking her hand, “Yes!”

  “I'm so sorry. I read the obituary in the paper and was deeply touched. I feel so bad for you and your daughter… Oh excuse me, I'm Amber.”

  Michael continued to hold her hand, “Nice to meet you, Amber.”

  While this happened, Loraine Trivelli brought another plate of food to the table and announced while sitting down next to Mary, “They have Belgian trippe from Saulmon's! I brought a couple over.”

  Loraine's sister gladly took one. But Mary wasn't fond of Belgian trippe, a sausage made with cabbage. The Belgian sausage smelled like a backed-up sewer, but certainly didn't taste the same. Still, the young Mary wasn't about to try one.

  Suddenly, Loraine saw Amber talking to the handsome and wealthy Michael Dickly. Their eyes remained locked on one another while maintaining a prolonged handshake. “Do you see that?” asked Loraine. “Let me tell you; I don't like that young lady one bit! Look how she talks to him on the day of his wife's funeral. She's up to no good if you ask me! Seems like a nice, young lady; but…”

  She was quickly interrupted by the young Mary, “Oh, she's fine, Aunt Loraine. She's only extending her sympathies.”

  Amber knew in her heart that Michael was the one she had connected with for so many nights. But was he aware that she was the new destiny? And was he open to the young woman who would receive him with open arms and an ability to heal the heartache? That day was a simple test. Amber needed to verify what she felt in her heart was true. And this is why the young woman had the courage and audacity to suddenly announce to her soon-to-be soul mate, “I just want you to know that I suffered a broken heart, too. If you ever need a friend, or just someone to talk to, sort through your feelings…”

  Suddenly, Linsey's statue-head toppled over on the podium! Gasps could be heard from those in the room. In a panic, Michael quickly pulled away from Amber's hand and nearly flew up to the elevated portion of the floor and to the podium, where he rescued his beautiful wife.

  Michael gently picked up Linsey and verified that no damage had been done. Then he asked, “Are you alright? I'm so sorry; you've had such an eventful day. It's best to put you away and bring you home where we can rest tonight.”

  The statue was placed in the box and away from everyone's view.

  * * *

  Taking Linsey's advice from earlier in the week, Michael now made a conscious effort to give Paulette extra attention now that her mother was gone. Michael was wrong to have neglected her so much while preparing for Linsey's funeral. Later in the evening, hours after the funeral, father and daughter sat downstairs in the family room, seated side-by-side on the sofa. Paulette wasn't always confined to the wheelchair. She often lay on the grass outside on warm, summer days with Mother. Sometimes she sat up in her comfy, beanbag chair while watching videos with Mother and Father. And tonight she cuddled up next to Father with his arm around her.

  Father said, “I'm really sorry about the way I acted earlier in the week. I was overwhelmed with sadness and had to make sure your mother's funeral went according to plan. I was wrong, and I totally admit it. Honey, I promise that I'll never leave you neglected. You and I need to get closer. We're the only thing we've got right now. I've actually considered selling Dickly's to some other company, selling this castle and buying a small house for you and me to live in. I have so much money that I never need to work again. And when I'm gone, there would be plenty of money for you. We'll just have to find a way for you to have some degree of independence.”

  A tear from Paulette dripped onto Michael's shoulder. It had been an emotionally draining week for the girl, and hearing Father announce such dedication was very much needed.

  And then they sat for a while until Paulette fell asleep. Michael lifted his baby, carried her up the flight of stairs and tucked her in bed. With a gentle kiss to her cheek he whispered, “Good night, Honey. I love you.”

  It was time for Michael to retire as well. Entering his bedroom, he could see that Linsey was already sound asleep. He changed into his sleepwear and slipped into bed. Then he kissed his beautiful wife on the lips. “You've had such an eventful day. Oh, but your funeral was beautiful. So many people came. And I'm sorry for leaving you out on the podium like that. But we're home now.”

  Michael pulled closer to Linsey's side of the bed and breathed in deeply the smell of his wife's pillows. “Oh, Linsey; I don't know what I'm going to do. You need to help me; you need to help me figure out how to take care of our girl. Should I sell the business and move in a small house? It seems like the logical thing to do. But the business can grow larger and make us more money.” Tears ran from Michael's eyes, “Please help me, Linsey. Don't leave me alone down here.”

  Take away the morbid presence of Linsey's death mask; Michael's behavior wouldn't have been considered so odd. Many a grieving husband or wife has laid on a spouse's side of the bed while asking for help and speaking out to be heard in Heaven.

  Chapter Five

  It was somewhere around a quarter-past four o'clock in the afternoon the following day. Michael and Paulette sat in the family room throughout much
of the afternoon as Father flipped through the TV channels and watched random programming. A candle sat on one of the side tables next to a recent photo of Linsey. Those in mourning have found that candles offer a sense of comfort. Burning them throughout the home would be the new practice for Michael and his daughter.

  The question of, “What shall we have for dinner?” replayed a couple of times in Michael's mind. It was still too early to eat, but Michael suspected that his daughter wondered the same. The usual practice in the Mapleview area is for the grieving family to take home all the food from the funeral and eat it throughout the week. But Michael felt it more appropriate to donate the large remains to the homeless shelters. He had more money than he knew what to do with, and didn't feel right accepting more food than he needed.

  Linsey had made her divine manicotti on the night before she died. There was still half a pan in the refrigerator. There is nothing wrong with eating something made by a person who is no longer alive. Michael loved his wife; Paulette loved her mother. And both would agree that Linsey's manicotti was to… well, it shouldn't be put that way; not in this moment. But it would surely be the last time that both would enjoy something made by Linsey.

  Amber hadn't given up! She knew in her heart that she and Michael shared a destiny. The test from yesterday only failed because the statue-head of Linsey had toppled over. Amber knew that if this hadn't happened, Michael would have exchanged contact information with her. He needed a special friend; he needed her at that moment.

  Although failing to exchange contact information, Amber simply found Michael's address in the local phone book. His name was posted right there in alphabetical order to include his telephone number and address. And as she ascended his spiraling driveway that afternoon to the top of the miniature mountain, not one bit of her felt out of place. There was no hesitation or a need to turn around. Amber parked her modest Chevy Cavalier into the horseshoe driveway and stepped out to stand before the enormous castle-like mansion. She reached back into the car and pulled out a large pan of food from the passenger seat, still warm, and ready to be eaten.

  Pressing the doorbell triggered a lovely melody of bells. Amber recognized the combination but couldn't place the song in her mind. Linsey always loved Moonlight Sonata, and was ecstatic that her doorbell could produce the combination. In a way, it was Linsey who initially greeted Amber at the door.

  Michael opened the door and stood for a split-second as he placed the beautiful, young woman in his mind.

  Amber spoke first, “Mr. Dickly?”

  “Yes… Amber, from yesterday! Come in!” He could immediately see that a tray of food was being offered and took it. “Oh, and it's still warm. You just cooked it?”

  “Yes, it's braciole.”

  As Amber entered the home, Michael placed the tray of braciole on a large table that sat in the foyer. Then he took her coat. “Please, stay a while.”

  While Michael hung the young woman's coat in the guest closet, Amber took notice of the beautiful, marble tile that lay along the grand foyer and the enormous, crystal chandelier that hung over the balcony and foyer. And from what she could see, although heavily furnished, the home remained dramatically spacious. “You have a lovely home, Mr. Dickly.”

  “Please, call me Michael.”

  In the family room, Paulette struggled to turn her head enough to see the visitor. Michael immediately noticed this and motioned Amber to follow. “Come meet my daughter, Paulette.”

  As Father and the visitor came closer, they walked at a diagonal, which soon allowed Paulette to look upon Amber with both eyes. Amber had the sudden suspicion that the girl was aware of her intention.

  Michael spoke, “Paulette, you probably didn't get a chance to meet Amber at the funeral. But she brought us dinner tonight.”

  Amber smiled, “Hi, nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand, but then slowly put it down upon realizing Paulette's condition.

  Michael needed to further facilitate the introduction, “Paulette is unfortunately paralyzed from the neck, down. She had a bad accident as a little girl and suffered a head injury that took away her ability to speak. Go ahead and shake her hand; just pull it up for her.”

  Amber took the girl's hand and repeated her greeting, “Hi Paulette, nice to meet you.”

  Paulette smiled in return.

  Michael continued as Amber gently put Paulette's hand back on her lap. “She's fully aware of her surroundings and can communicate. Usually she talks by poking a pencil at a computer keyboard and spells out sentences. But if you pay close attention and slow down, you can almost hear her thoughts. Usually I simply guess what it is she wishes to say, and Paulette nods yes or no. I'm almost always correct in interpreting her expressions.”

  “Wow, that's amazing.”

  “She's an amazing girl.” was Michael's immediately reply. Then he spoke about dinner. “I was just thinking of what to have for dinner before you came. It's still a little early for us, but I would like you to stay. Can I put the tray of food in the oven under a low temperature to keep it warm?”

  “Sure, and I'd love to stay for dinner; that is if it's okay with Paulette.”

  Paulette nodded and smiled, reassuring Amber that she was welcome.

  Michael never heard of the dish that Amber made. “I'm sorry, what did you say we are having for dinner?”

  “Braciole; it's my mother's recipe.”

  “Is that beef… chicken…?”

  “It's beef.”

  “Well I'll go down into the wine cellar and find something red. We'll drink that before dinner. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”

  Michael walked back into the foyer, picked up the tray and pulled the aluminum back. Underneath were a dozen beef strips that were rolled up, and appeared to have some seasoning, breadcrumbs and cheese in the middle. Surrounding the dozen beef roulades were potatoes that had been sliced in half. “Mmmmm! Paulette, you are really going to like this!”

  Amber called back from across the family room, “Sorry, but I didn't make a vegetable.”

  “That's okay; we've got bags of tossed salad in the refrigerator. This is plenty!”

  Just about everyone has had braciole. Every country has its own variation, and every mother has made it for dinner once or twice. My own wife takes a round steak, flattens it out with a hammer and then slices it into roll-able strips. Then she adds stuffing and some seasonings, browns it in a pan, then lowers the heat to add a gravy made with cream of mushroom soup. The final product is slow cooked for about an hour. It's good stuff!

  Other recipes might involve something similar to what Amber made to include a cheese filling. There are veal roulades stuffed with fruits and vegetables. There is even a beef roulade that is stuffed with bacon and pickles.

  The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. If you really want to win a man's heart, you should make some nice braciole; served with a hearty, bold, red wine. It'll be just a taste of what your soon-to-be-man can expect when finally surrendering to you.

  Now alone with Paulette, Amber felt it was best to strike up conversation. The most important thing was certainly mentioned first. “So, I'm really sorry about your mother.”

  It was almost as if Paulette's eyes had responded a gratitude for Amber's sympathy.

  “Can I sit down?”

  Paulette nodded.

  “Yeah, I read the obituary in the paper and just felt really bad. I couldn't help but introduce myself to your father.”

  There was no reason for Amber to cover her intention. Paulette knew the underlying cause for making dinner and visiting. And really she didn't mind. Amber appeared courteous and thoughtful, maybe just the person Father needed as he was certainly too young to give up on life. But was Amber real? Was the person on display the true Amber? This was Paulette's greatest concern.

  There was a long pause as Amber realized her intentions were clearly visible to the girl. Then she continued, “There's just something about your father. I felt like I should he
lp.”

  * * *

  Perhaps you are a major opponent to anything that contains alcohol. If so, I suppose you are outraged to read that a person might have a wine cellar in his home. For the rest of us, especially those who enjoy wine, drinking wine is a wonderful experience that has a tendency to even out emotions, open conversation and open doors to newer possibilities. It isn't a terrible thing to enjoy wine with company shortly after the loss of a loved one. No one is getting drunk, just sharing a moment with the dearly departed that remains nearby.

  Opening a bottle that blended imported Malbec with Merlot, Michael began to speak of the remaining cases of Pinot Noir that was enjoyed by Linsey. Pinot Noir was always her favorite. Michael was sure to order cases of her favorite, imported wine; various names and blends from vineyards from around the world. But they rightfully belonged to Linsey. He couldn't drink them or give them away just yet. For now, they would sit in the wine cellar.

  In recent years, Paulette was permitted on occasion to enjoy wine with Mother and Father. She was usually given just under a glass's amount. Again, she wasn't getting drunk; just enjoying the moment under a mild influence of euphoria. With all she had been through, it was a small taboo that Mother and Father allowed the teenager to have.

  In that moment, Michael sat beside his daughter, raising the glass to her lips so she could share what Father and the guest enjoyed. Wine has an interesting effect. It has a tendency to remove some unseen veil between this world and the other. When drunk in moderation, our senses remain intact. Paulette remained on a heightened state of awareness while keenly in tune with the conversation and body language between Father and Amber. Although listening attentively to every word of Michael's, Amber was subliminally seducing the man.