Page 303 of Bitter’s Sweet

We move out slowly, the Grave Prowlers forming a line behind his Harley and coffin. Town people stand along the road with hats removed. Shop owners come out onto sidewalks. Older men lift hands as we pass, and women press palms to their hearts.

Even children go quiet.

Black funeral ribbons move in the wind while lanterns left over from the festival hang from posts along the road. The sun sinks lower as we ride through town.

Sweet rests against my back.

Not hidden behind me.

With me.

That distinction feels like everything.

I do not reach back or cover her hand with mine. I do not need proof beyond what she is already giving.

Raven’s procession curves past the School of the Dead, the funeral home, and the festival field where grave-digging competitors tore up half the ground and Boogie developed an emotional attachment to a worm named Gerald.

Life and death. Funny and ugly. All of it occupying the same few acres.

Maybe that is why I fit here.

Maybe that is why Sweet does too.

Raven rides toward whatever comes next.

For the first time in a long time, I think maybe I can too.

When the procession returns, darkness has settled completely.

Brothers gather around Raven. There are words, drinks, memories, and one story about Raven stealing Hyde’s bike that Hyde claims is exaggerated and six men swear is not.

Sweet stays near Mercy at first.

I stay with my brothers.

That matters.

I do not abandon Raven’s goodbye because Sweet is nearby and I want her attention. I also do not spend the whole night pretending I cannot feel exactly where she is.

Apparently growth does not cure obsession.

Shame.

Eventually the crowd starts breaking apart. Some people head toward the clubhouse. Others drift toward the school break room because Mercy made peach cobbler and Boogie has spread the information like classified intelligence.

Sweet stands near the school steps.

Alone.

I see her.

She sees me.

Then she tips her head slightly.

Invitation.

I go, but not fast.