Grownups shouldn't force little kids to kiss dead
people. It makes them wish for stuff that
isn’t good. Two of my cousins have had
to kiss Aunt Bea so far, and both of them are still crying. That’s why I’m
wishing and praying to The Almighty that he somehow makes Aunt Bea disappear, or
shrivel up, or turn over, or something.
If all my friends at school found out I kissed a dead person, they are going
to swear I got the cooties. Then I won't
ever be able to go outside ever again.
But if I don't kiss Aunt Bea, laying up there dead as dirt in that
spooky black coffin, Mommy might get mad at me and Daddy will get cross about
me upsetting Mommy. I just want to get out of here as fast as I can. Funerals are creepy. Plus they make my Mommy very sad, and when
she's sad, I'm sad too.
All week long Mommy's been crying and crying her eyeballs
out. She says she's going to miss Aunt
Bea on account of how good she was to us.
She says Aunt Bea was her favorite relative. She keeps asking me, "Don't you remember
when Aunt Bea did this and that and this and that?” All I remember is that every time she came to
our house, I could smell her before I saw her.
That was some stinky perfume she always wore. Then Mommy and her big mouth would call me
into the room and Aunt Bea would say the same thing she always said. "Come here, baby, and give your Aunt Bea
some sugar.” Before I got a chance to
run, she'd pull me all the way across the room, like she had rubber arms, and
then smother me in her boobies. Aunt Bea
had the biggest boobies of any lady I know.
They were so big they took up the whole top of her body. Just before I got sick to my stomach from the
smell of her perfume, she would sit me on her lap and hold me there so I
couldn't move. Then she'd put her face
down real close to mine and start praying.
I know she was trying to be nice, but I couldn't hear nothing she said
on account of that mole! It was big as a
pea, and I can't stand peas. The more
she prayed, the closer that mole got to my face. That thing really gave me the cooties. That's when I'd start whinning, and Mommy
would give me a mean look, and Aunt Bea would say I was "in the presence
of angels." Then she'd let me
go. It was the same every time Aunt Bea
came over our house. Now she's dead and
I don't ever have to worry about catching cooties from her mole—unless Mommy
makes me kiss her dead face.
As it turns out, just before it’s my and Mommy and Daddy’s
turn to go up to the coffin, Grandma Tookie has a fit. She starts hollering,
“Sista! Sista! Don’t leave me sista!” and running around the church like the
back of her dress is on fire with all those ushers chasing after her. Then Big
Daddy Wallace stands up and does two things I’ve never heard him do before. He says
a whole sentence without stuttering and he cusses! He says it real loud, too: “Please, shut that
d--- casket before she loses her mind!”
Cousin Benjamin burst out laughing so hard, he got whacked on
both sides of his head by Aunt Cindy and Uncle Brad. As for me, I got my wish
because the preacher and funeral men ran over and closed that coffin shut.
Mommy really cried then, and so did Daddy a little. I felt bad for them but real happy for me.
After the funeral at Grandma Tookie’s house, everybody talked
about Aunt Bea for the rest of the day. People
told all kinds of stories about her being “a master librarian” and a leader in
town and a smart lady, and how good she was with money and how much she loved
her family. I was glad I didn't have to worry about her suffocating me
anymore. No more stinky perfume, no more
big bosoms, and no more mole. But Mommy
was the saddest of all. She hardly said
anything. For the longest time after
that, she didn't even act like her regular self. That’s when I understood how much she loved
Aunt Bea.
One day after I got home from school, there was a playground
and swimming pole in our back yard. I mean not a regular old back yard
playground but a serious playground with two big swings and a kiddie swing for
my baby brother, a little and big slide, and two different kinds of monkey
bars. And according to Daddy our pool is a “Olympic.” At first, I thought I was
on the wrong street, but I knew this was my house and our car parked out
front. I couldn't believe it. Mommy came out the back door and said,
"Surprise!" I didn't know whether
to jump in the pool or hug Mommy tight as I could. I'd been wishing for a playground since I was
5-years old, every Christmas and every birthday. Either the Fairy Godmother or Santa Claus was
real confused about the time of year, because this was June.
Later that night when I was saying my prayers before bed,
Mommy told me I should thank Aunt Bea in heaven for the new playground and
pool. She said Aunt Bea left us a nice
"inheritance." I figured that meant
some money. Mommy said, "She was
good to us, and I don't want you to ever forget that. Aunt Bea made sure you
can go to any college you want.” After
Mommy left my room, I felt real bad about all the mean things I had thought
about Aunt Bea. I just didn't want to
get the cooties from that mole. She was
a nice lady, I guess. I just wish I knew
her like Mommy did.
So now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to
keep. If I should die before I wake, I
pray the Lord my soul to take. Bless
Mommy and Daddy, my grandparents and godparents and aunts and uncles and
cousins and friends and neighbors and teachers and Aunt Bea, too. Oh yeah, God, if you forgive me for all the
things I was thinking about her, I promise I won't ever be afraid again to kiss
a dead person's face.
