FIND YOURSELF DANCING
Chapter 4: Harry, Cliff
Grand Terrace, CA • Sunday, July 29, 1990
Grand Terrace was originally a small community of orange farmers. In the 19th century, the land that became the city was named after its neighbors (“South Colton,” “East Riverside,” or “Way North San Diego”). By the late 1970s, the area incorporated as its own city. It wasn’t long after when housing developments started getting built, one of which housed the Wright family through the eighties.
In its early years, most businesses for the city existed on Barton Rd, the main roadway. The grand terrace that gives Grand Terrace the name Grand Terrace is off Mt. Vernon Road, the main cross street to Barton. A block away from this main intersection, a community center sits that holds a number of local activities. Exercise classes, worship services, adult school, and the occasional wedding all have taken place inside this unassuming beige building.
Today, Jack’s wake is being held in the Grand Terrace Community center. The Wrights anticipated around thirty people to arrive and pay respects. Including immediate family members and Jack’s urn, eleven people showed up.
Outside the center, Harry and Cliff pull into a parking space. Dressed in plain black t-shirts and torn jeans, the two young men are finishing cigarettes while walking to the front door. They are the last two of the eleven to arrive. Cliff turns to Harry in between drags.
“You know, this is my first funeral.”
“Wake.”
“What?”
“It’s a wake.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t know, It’s like a party for the dead.”
“A party? Like we’re supposed to be happy or something?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been to one.”
“Well, me either.”
“Fuck.” Harry took another puff of his cigarette. “Do you think anyone else will be there?”
“Dude, I don’t know.” Cliff stares at the double doors of the center. “I only knew about this because my sister and his sister are friends.”
“Sheila? Is she going to be in there?”
“No, she had to work.”
“The first kid in our class died. Feels off.”
“Is he the first kid in our class if he dropped out?”
“I don’t know. Didn’t he shoot himself in the head?”
“I think so.”
“They’re not going to show him in the casket, are they?”
“God, I hope not. Why would they do that?”
“What, like did they leave his face alone? Did they put it back together? Are there pieces missing? What are we going to be looking at?”
Cliff shoved his friend. “Jesus, I don’t know. Fuck, that’s gross.” He thought about what’s waiting for them inside. Is there going to be an open casket with a half a head looking at them? Like some kind of sick public service? Gun safety is serious business, kids! Cliff paused while Harry continued walking. Harry was almost at the door when he turned to look at his friend behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Thinking.”
“About what? About how you’re next?” Harry walked back over and shoved his friend, laughing.
“Shut up. You’re next.”
The two of them took turns shoving each other as they approached the front door together. Right before they opened it, Cliff blocked Harry’s latest push.
“Knock it off. We should be respectful.”
Harry laughed. “Right. Respectful.”
Cliff repeated the statement in his mind. Respectful. The two men put out their cigarettes on the steps. Cliff straightened himself up and checked his hair. The two entered the community center, snickering to themselves.
A brushed silver urn with a thin black stripe rested on a podium in front of the stage of the Community Center. Enlarged childhood pictures of Jack flanked both sides of the urn. There weren’t many pictures of him after high school, so everyone saw an enlarged freshman portrait and a picture of him at a family 4th of July picnic, wearing a pair of hot pink sunglasses and a baseball cap with FRANKIE SAY RELAX in bold letters.
Danny sat sandwiched between his parents, with his friends Alex and Helen seated behind him. They all quietly listened to one of John’s coworkers as he gave a brief, impersonal service. Afterwards, the audience stood in line to pay their respects at the urn. Maryann went first. Jack’s older sister was wearing a black suit jacket and pants, with her hair partially shaved on her right side and the rest in tight, short curls falling down her face. After her, John, May, and Grace followed.
After the adults all paid their respects, Danny walked to the urn to say goodbye. Other attendees followed in line behind him. The boy couldn’t help but notice that his brother’s urn looked like a Thermos, like he would open the lid and find hot coffee inside. Kym was nowhere to be found; even after what happened, the woman had no desire to return to California, and visiting an ex-boyfriend’s funeral did not make the trip more appealing.
Danny looked at the sleek, silver container holding Jack’s remains. He thought about having one more conversation with his brother. Fighting for his high score in Tetris, beating him in Atari Basketball, or even just talking to him about his breakup. Anything to have another moment with Jack. The young man stood at the podium holding the urn and wondered what he should say. In the silence, Danny could hear a pair of voices behind him.
“How long had it been?”
“He ran away what, eight years ago?”
“You know, I was expecting a coffin.”
“You dumb ass, he’s right there.” Cliff pointed at the urn.
“Right.” The two stare at the urn silently for a moment. “Dude, he looks like a Thermos.”
“Huh.” Cliff started to snicker to himself. “The cold stuff stays cold, hot stuff stays hot.”
Harry joined in. “Dead stuff … stays dead?”
The two of them continued. Danny turned around and stared at them. He couldn’t think of a way to tell them to shut up, so he stared at them in silence. Seemingly out of nowhere, his big sister appeared from behind the men and grasped both of their ears with a twist.
“Listen up, you little shits,” Maryann gave their ears an extra twist. “I will turn this into a triple service if you don’t shut your pie holes. Right. Now.”
Besides yelps of pain, the two young men shut up and started walking towards the exit. Danny started walking away from his brother and towards his seat. My brother died, what am I supposed to do now? As he walked, he looked at the audience. Not even ten people sat in the mostly empty room. He saw his parents and May crying out over the loss of their oldest son. Danny walked past what was his seat, and also headed to the exit.
Tears started to run down Danny’s face. As he left, his walk turned into a run towards the family car, a teal Oldsmobile that they have had for a couple of years. Danny quickly opened the back door, sat down and reached under the front seat. There he found his brother’s Game Boy he left there since the Galaxy Star Ball. Danny clicked the power switch on the top of the device. There was no response from the power light.
The Game Boy was dead.
Closing the back door from the inside, Danny curled into a ball and began weeping. He didn’t know what he was going to do. As he cried, Danny could feel the presence of his brother. He fell asleep, thinking about what his brother would say if he was around.
Introduction
Chapter 1: Last Night
Chapter 2: Anywhere But Here
Chapter 3: Wet Paper Bag
Chapter 4: Harry, Cliff
Chapter 5: The Morning After
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