Crush. Candy. Corpse.

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “But she’s done so much for me. She helped me with homework, made my lunches, took me on fieldtrips, paid for my exchange trip to France, set aside money for my education . . . she only asked this one thing.”

  “Which is huge. Too huge. How could anyone ask that of you?”

  “Because we both knew how bad it would get. She would have done something herself earlier if I hadn’t promised.”

  “So what, you feel you lied to her?”

  “Yes, and that I’ve let her down.”

  “I don’t know. People make such a big deal about honesty. I think you just can’t always tell the truth.” I racked my brains for something better to say, something to comfort him. “Any moment researchers may come up with a cure. Then you’ll be the big hero for not keeping a promise.”

  “She’s too far gone for any miracle.”

  “Maybe. But how would you have even done it? There aren’t any tubes or plugs to pull.”

  “I dunno. Sleeping pills. Maybe a box of doughnuts.”

  “Don’t even kid.”

  “Doesn’t matter how. I’m too big a coward. Every visit I give her a candy and half hope she will choke on it. The other half still hopes she’ll somehow get better again.”

  He became quiet again and so did I. Finally I had to say something. “Listen, I told Mrs. Johnson that it was the biker’s doughnuts your grandmother ate.”

  “Oh. What if she calls him?”

  “Well, it could have been his box your grandma got into. How the heck did she get anybody’s doughnuts, is what I want to know. He didn’t sign in so Mrs. Johnson doesn’t know his name. If he visits again soon, I could be in trouble. But I’ve served eighteen hours towards my volunteer credit. I only have twelve left.”

  “Twelve hours.”

  “Don’t sound like that. We’ll still be friends after that.”

  “Friends.”

  “Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Anyway, I told Mrs. Johnson I took the box of doughnuts away with me. If she asks, can you please just go along with that story?”

  “I already did. I mean I told her a biker brought some. I said I never saw you with any.”

  “Thanks, Cole.” I sighed again. “I’m sorry about your grandma. I mean, not just about the doughnuts . . . the Alzheimer’s. Her asking that of you. It isn’t fair.”

  “No. Nothing is. Bye, Sunny.”

  I hesitated an extra moment. I wanted to tell him I would definitely break up with Donovan very soon. There was still hope for him. But I just wasn’t sure yet. I didn’t know if I could face school without Donovan on my arm. He made me feel like I fit in. And about some things I really can’t lie. “Bye, Cole.”

  chapter fifteen

  The next person the buzzard calls up is the Mexican nurse. Turns out his whole name is Ambrosio Flores. Funny how I never paid much attention to him before and now he gets a big say in how my life goes from here on in. He’s dressed respectfully, with a pinstriped white shirt and a burgundy tie paired with navy slacks. Take note jury, you can dress well on a budget. He’s got a head of that great blue-black hair that unfortunately greys so quickly, and skin that looks one shade darker than a tan. His eyes are a soulful chocolate colour. He swears in on the Bible.

  “Mr. Flores, how long have you been working for Paradise Manor?”

  “I have been working for the Manor for one-and-a-half years.” Ambrose speaks a bit formally with just the tiniest hint of an accent when he stretches out his Es.

  “In your job you were able to observe Miss Ehret in her volunteer role. How did she treat the seniors?”

  “Oh, she was very kind to them. She talked quite a bit with Miss Jeannette and I remember she fixed Miss Susan’s doll many times.”

  “How did Cole act towards his grandmother, when you saw them all together?”

  “When I came, Mrs. Demers was already pretty far gone into the dementia. She did not talk or even feed herself. Cole was the only person who visited her on my shift. He did slip her a lot of sweets, which we were instructed not to give her on account of the diabetes.”

  “And what about Sonja? Did she give Mrs. Demers things she wasn’t supposed to have?

  “Yes. She would get extra cookies to give Cole so he could slip them to Grandmama. And she brought in a box of doughnuts.”

  “Can you describe any problems these extra treats may have caused?”

  “After the doughnuts, Mrs. Demers went into a diabetic coma.”

  “No further questions.”

  Sometimes I wish Cole’s grandma had died in that coma. Between me and the biker, surely Mrs. Johnson would have had him charged for the death. But of course, she didn’t die. It’s always the person you least expect who goes first.

  The Fifteenth Visit — ten hours left

  I helped with another funeral, Mr. Brooks. I can’t believe Susan died. Besides carrying the baby doll around all the time and ranting about strange things, she seemed pretty healthy. Yeah, and I brought my boyfriend. In case Mrs. J. complains, I thought they liked having a bigger crowd for these send-offs.

  The next day Donny wanted to go to the mall, but I didn’t. “I’ve got homework.”

  “I’ll help.” He drew in close and stroked my neck. “Come to my house. I’ve got Kinect ballroom dancing.” His dad worked for a game company so Donovan always had the absolute latest.

  “Can I bring Alexis?”

  “Aw, why?” He dropped his hand from me. “We never spend any time alone anymore.”

  “Because I wanna tell my mom I hung out with Alexis after school and be sort of telling the truth.”

  “If you loved me you’d just tell your mother where to go.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, like I don’t all the time. Look, there’s Alexis.” I waved. “Alexis, Alexis.” I ran to catch up to her. “Come to Donovan’s with me.”

  “What, to watch you guys make out?”

  “No!” I gave her shoulder a shove. Then I whispered into her ear. “So I don’t have to be alone with him.”

  “Then break up with him.”

  “Lexie, please?” I only used her baby name for special occasions.

  “Fine.” She turned on her heel and waved at Donny like he was her best friend.

  “You coming?” Donny asked and when she nodded, he acted pleased. “All right then, let’s go.” He gave her his most charming smile, dimples and all.

  You see, people deceive in all kinds of ways, not just breaking promises or telling outright lies. And it worked out to be a great afternoon because of it.

  We drove home together. If I broke up with Donovan I’d miss having a boyfriend with a car. Alexis and I worked on our poetry assignments while Donny made us crêpes with mozzarella cheese and raspberry jam, my favourite. If I broke up with Donny, I’d miss having someone cook for me. I wondered if Cole knew how to make crêpes.

  Later we waltzed, and did the cha-cha and the rumba against the competing couple on the wall screen. Donny made me feel like I could float to the music. Even Alexis had a good time when we switched places. Cole’s dancing at the Manor’s Halloween party had looked choppy and awkward.

  It was January. I still had a month to break up with Donovan if I wanted to go to the Valentine’s dance with Cole. But maybe I didn’t really want to break up.

  “Donny, what would you say if I helped a friend by going to a dance with him?” I asked while we were doing an easy two-step.

  Donovan missed a beat. “What do you mean, ‘help’? Who is this guy?”

  From over his shoulder, I could see Alexis making silent scream faces at me.

  “Oh just that geeky kid I volunteer with at the home. Haven’t I told you about Cole before?”

 
“No. I’d remember if you had. I’d have to meet him.” Donny twirled me then and we beat the couple on the screen. “You know, Sunny, you may think a guy wants to be your friend. But honestly, if he’s human, how could he not want to be more?”

  Alexis took her turn dancing with Donovan then. “Don’t worry, Cole is nothing compared to you,” she told him. “But you should go to Paradise Manor anyway. You can see how good Sunny is with the old people.”

  Okay, now she was being too helpful.

  “Yeah, Sunny, I should probably come one time,” he said as he swung Alexis around.

  I rolled my eyes. “Bringing a boyfriend to a volunteer job, my teacher’s gonna love that.”

  But there was no talking Donovan out of coming to the home once Alexis put it in his head. He joked about wanting to meet my other boyfriend and seeing how all the track pants he lifted fit on the old guys. I didn’t know what to do until Gillian Halliday called about Susan’s death. “Don’t be sad for her, Sunny. Her heart stopped beating in the middle of the night. She went to bed and never woke up.”

  “I just didn’t think she’d be the next to go.” My voice did a little hiccup and I stopped for a second. I couldn’t help it. You can’t just not be sad when someone tells you not to be. “Johann, I could have predicted. Mrs. Demers seems the oldest and sickest . . . and she wants to die.”

  “It doesn’t always work out like that. We never know whose time is next.”

  Blah, blah, live every day like it’s your last . . . I changed the subject to stop her blather. “Can I bring someone?”

  “Alexis? Sure,” Gillian answered.

  “No, Donovan. He’s my boyfriend. He just wants to see what I do there.”

  “But I thought you and Cole . . . Never mind, that’s fine, Sunny. Bring him along.”

  So I called Donovan next and he seemed bizarrely excited to be accompanying me to a funeral. I wanted to call Cole to warn him, but I just couldn’t work up the nerve.

  Donny dressed up beautifully for the occasion — he always knew how to do that — dark overcoat covering a dark suit saved from being too funereal by a rose-coloured shirt and silver-and-mauve striped tie. We arrived early.

  A Nubreeze smell hung in the air and the reception area was decked out in yellow and white mums. Obviously they had spiffed up the place for the event. I directed him to sanitize and sign in, then I punched in the lockup code and we entered the Alzheimer’s ward.

  “Are you a movie star? You’re certainly a handsome young man.” A woman I didn’t recognize grabbed Donny’s arm. “Come and see my cat.”

  He grinned at her and winked back at me. “Sure, I’d love to see it.”

  Standing behind her, I shook my head and mouthed, “No pets allowed.” Still I followed them to her room and stood in the doorway. That lady owned a battery-powered breathing cat with real fur. What kind of fur was that? It was so creepy. I let him continue ahead, and visit with Marlene and Jeannette, too. He would take their arms like a groomsman takes a bridesmaid’s. I was proud of him. He was so gallant.

  Meanwhile, I helped Ambrose push the wheelchair folk into the chapel. I’d been lulled into thinking this would be another PowerPoint-type celebration of life. But it all felt different. An artificial sweetness hung over the air. Two huge flowerpots stood at the front overflowing with pink lilies.

  Behind those lilies lay a coffin, no lid on top.

  I gulped at the air but couldn’t breathe.

  A huge arrangement of red roses draped over the bottom half. The top part was open to Susan, lying eyes closed and lip slightly curved upward.

  I still couldn’t get any air in and the top part of my head seemed to be floating away.

  Suddenly, Cole was there catching me as my knees buckled. Ambrose quickly pushed a chair underneath me. “If you’re feeling faint, Miss, put your head between your knees.”

  “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

  “Take deep breaths.” Cole squatted in front of me holding both of my arms. Gradually, the room stopped moving and the floating sensation stopped. “Do you want me to take you to see her?” Cole asked gently. “Maybe it will help.”

  I shook my head, inhaled deeply, and felt relieved when I could let the breath out again and continue.

  “It’s a way of saying goodbye. Closure, you know. Just try with me.” He held onto my hand.

  Finally I nodded. Gripping his arm tightly, I stood up and walked to the coffin. I concentrated on my breathing. Susan wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her eyes were closed as though she were sleeping, so that didn’t seem too weird. Something did feel unnatural, though. It was that near smile on her face.

  It made it seem like this was all some big joke and she was just pretending behind those closed eyes.

  “Wake up,” I whispered to her. “Your baby’s crying.”

  “There, there.” Cole squeezed my arm. “She’s lucky she went before she got worse.”

  “Oh yeah, she’s crazy lucky. Too bad she didn’t buy a ticket to the lottery before she died.” I choked on a sob then and Cole wrapped me in his arms.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay, Sunny.” He patted my shoulder. “She’s at peace now. You’ve got to see that.”

  I sniffed and disentangled myself. I stared. “Maybe. She does look relaxed. Less wrinkled. Like she’s had a facelift, even.” A half laugh, half sob bubbled up.

  “Let’s go back and help the others in,” Cole suggested and we walked out to the lockup again.

  Calmer, I headed down one hall and he went on through the other. I pushed Jeannette’s wheelchair to the chapel and met him pushing his grandmother’s.

  Donny, for his part, escorted the cat lady down the aisle. She seemed to be flirting with him.

  “Don’t make a big deal. Let her have her fantasy with him,” Cole told me. “That one second she’s enjoying is her whole life right now.”

  But Donny set her in a chair and returned to us.

  “So you’re the guy who’s trying to steal my girl,” Donny said when we all met up in the back row.

  “Behave.” I punched his shoulder. “Donovan, this is Cole; Cole, this is Donovan.” I turned and saw Cole as if with Donny’s eyes.

  Cole looked awkward, as usual, wearing the same suit as last funeral. He must have biked in because he had a serious case of helmet hair. He blushed as Donovan pumped at his hand. Was Donny crushing it?

  I stared at him, throwing stop-it signals his way. Finally Donny released Cole’s hand.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Cole said. We sat down to wait for the service.

  There were no more people than last time, but hymns were sung — or maybe howled would be a better way to describe it. Donny and Cole sang along, Donny in baritone, Cole in squeaking adolescent. I couldn’t open my mouth. I never sang in front of Donny, ever.

  No one spoke on Susan’s behalf, although our Newfoundland minister read a bit about her from his notes. The service ended quickly.

  Afterwards we stayed to help feed the old people back in the dining room. Donny stayed patient and charming the whole time. He offered Cole a lift when we were finished. “I can throw your bike in the trunk, no worries.”

  Cole turned him down.

  Before we left the dining room, I saw Cole unwrap a candy and give it to Mrs. Demers. He kissed her and walked out the door with us.

  We all stopped for a moment at the exit to say goodbye.

  Donovan started in again. “Listen, Cole, just so we understand each other. You’re a real nice guy and all . . . but she’s not coming to any dance with you. I don’t care if it’s as a friend or as a team mascot, for that matter. Do you get me?”

  I could see his jaw line was firm. He wasn’t joking.

  “Yup.”

  Donny broke into a grin again and clapped his hand
on Cole’s shoulder. “You sure about that ride? Biking’s dangerous in this weather, man.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  The one time no one listens to Donny, he’s really telling the truth, predicting the future really.

  chapter sixteen

  “Mr. Flores.” The buzzard coughs. “Can you tell the court how Sonja reacted to Susan White’s funeral?”

  “At first I thought she would faint. The coffin was open, you know, and she told her friend she had never seen a dead body before. I told her to put her head down between her knees.”

  Bored, the prosecutor looks off to the judge. “This friend was Cole Demers?”

  Yes, Cole. He was a good volunteer, too. She was also with another boy, taller — I never saw him before. But he stayed at the back and Cole took Miss Sunny up to see the body of Miss Susan.”

  “Did you happen to hear what she said?”

  “Yes. She said Miss Susan looked nice, nicer in the coffin than she did alive.”

  Someone groans in the jury.

  “Order!” the judge warns.

  Oh man, this is so unfair. It sounds like I thought everyone was better off dead. It wasn’t true. I was all nerves that day and nothing that came out of my mouth made sense. I was giving the mortician a compliment. I told Alexis later that every old person should go to the funeral home for makeovers. I mean they totally got rid of Susan’s wrinkles and she was smiling so peacefully.

  I feel tired of it all and want to lay my head down on the oak rail in front of me. The four beige walls seem to squeeze the air out of the courtroom. One of the bearded guys in the back row yawns and I feel an urge tugging at my jaw too.

  My lawyer Michael McCann stands up now. The yawning stops and I can’t help noticing that the jogging-suit lady kind of leans forward for him. Will we get a not-guilty verdict from her just because he’s cute? Whatever. I need it.

  “Mr. Flores, you mentioned earlier that Mrs. Demers was pretty far gone when you began working in the lockup unit. How did you like working with her?” He grips the wooden railing in front of him.