In Passing...

In Passing …

It was a lovely day.

The sun shone bright and the skies were clear. The cool autumn breeze was fresh and laden with the sweet concoction of smells from all the falling leaves. The birds sang merry songs up in the trees. I could hear a well in the distance and dogs barking. I walked along at a gentle pace breathing in the pure country air. I felt rejuvenation – something I had not felt in a little while.

I crunched my way on the cobbled street covered with dry fallen maple leaves, whistling a tune to myself. A little scamp passed by on his dilapidated cycle followed by his bounding poodle which was desperately trying to decide which was the better thing to chase – his master or his own tail. They did not seem to notice me and went their way.

The road sloped into a little valley, gently at first and then more steeply. As I came into the vale, I could see neat little houses, all set in nice rows. Spires of smoke rose from the chimneys of some and maids were about in the vegetable patches looking for potatoes and leeks perhaps.

I went past them and then the road turned towards the right. I followed it. It started growing dark. I noticed that the trees were denser here than the valley I had just left. The road sloped upwards now and was surprisingly bereft of fallen leaves. They must have been blown away down the slope by the wind that was coming down. I could feel a slight drop in the temperature.

I wanted to see where this road led to. It was not as if I had anything else to do anyway, so I continued on. A little further up, I could see a clearing emerge. The trees seemed to fall away to either side and as I came into the clearing the cobbled road ended and from there onwards it became a mowed grassy path lined with neatly pruned hedges.

The path led on straight about a hundred meters to a magnificent Victorian mansion. It looked an impressive sight standing tall in the middle of a lush green plateau set amidst the dense foliage of the mountain. Mammoth Oaks and firs and cedars lined the edge of the lawns on three sides.

My curiosity aroused, I approached the building. I could make out some people strolling about in the gardens in front. I saw more of them on the left of the building. And some more on the right. Almost everybody was dressed in black, completely formal and sombre. I could feel heaviness in the air.

I realized I had walked straight into a funeral! The funeral of a rich man. Possibly the owner and lord of this mansion.

I slowly walked into the gardens careful to stay away from the people lest they see me as intruding. I recognized the Lord Mayor of the town and his wife talking with the local councilor. He was saying, “He was a fine man. A man with great riches, but also one with a great heart. He gave to all without hesitation. It will be a long time before this town sees another soul like him.”

At the mention of soul, the councilor, a small man shuddered involuntarily and murmured ascent, “God bless his soul”, and crossed himself before excusing himself.

The Lord Mayor stared at him for a while through his monocle and then continued the conversation with his wife.

I passed a young couple. The girl was trying to console her partner.

“He was a good man. I liked him. Everybody liked him. It is tragic. Your brother was very kind to us all. He will find peace.”

“Oh, it should not have happened like this.” … sob…sob … “in the prime of his life” … sob … sob …

I pressed on slowly down the gardens towards the side of the house. I saw a large garage that could house six automobiles. There was a bright red Lamborghini in the center. I saw to the right, a Ford All Terrain and a pickup. In the far left corner sat a Morris Oxford resplendent in olive green and with gleaming silver chrome. The family limousine occupied a larger bay next to the Morris. One slot to the left of the Lamborghini was empty.

“Loved cars my master did. He took out the Spider like every morning but he never came back,” the gardener was pointing out the vacant space to a police constable who was taking notes disinterestedly. “The truck pushed the car clear off the cliff”.

I loved cars myself and I felt sorry for the guy to have gone the way he did.

I had almost reached the far end of the lawns near the back of the building when I noticed four men digging a trench. I could see the previous generation’s marked graves and the ornate head stones. I did not like the feel of it and started walking back. I wanted to leave this place. I had seen enough.

I was passing the garage on my way back to the grassy path when all the people started moving towards the front as well. I fell in among the crowd as they quietly and reverently congregated around the front porch.

The hearse arrived slowly. A black Lincoln limousine adorned with white wreaths drove up the path. I noticed the arrival area was covered in a layer of pure white lilies and a table was set up for the final homage. At the table waited the bishop in his funeral robes.

The hearse drew up and stopped noiselessly. Six pall-bearers lifted the casket and set it gracefully atop the table. The top half of the lid was open but I could not see the face from the back of the crowd.

The Bishop said a short prayer and then people filed in with wreaths and bunches of flowers to place beside the casket. Some cried inconsolably. I saw the brother shaking his head all the time in utter disbelief, held onto tightly by his partner. The Lord Mayor placed a red ribbon and a medal beside the casket. It was the Victoria Cross for distinguished service to the community and the nation. The last memorial was read by the Bishop and the last few people stepped forward to pay their respects.

I walked up behind them, clutching a white blossom.

I saw the face.

I was stupefied. The whole world started spinning before me and I suddenly felt far far away, as though I was looking upon this scene from up above the clouds.

I did not notice the casket being closed. The crowd began moving as the pall-bearers lifted the casket and set on its final journey – towards the grave. Flowers were strewn ahead of the procession.

The sun had gone down behind a cloud and I walked up behind the procession until they came to a halt beside the grave. I watched as they lifted the casket and lowered it in.

I could hear faintly, “ashes to ashes….dust to dust….”

The sign of the cross was made and mud was tossed in. People moved away until only the diggers remained.

As they started filling up the grave, my vision started to blur. I could not see the people anymore. I could not see the house anymore. I felt darkness close in on me and a rush of panic rose in my stomach. I wanted to go back. I had things to take care of.

Then I saw it. A bright source of light not far away. I reached with my hand and felt being led towards it. I reached it. I stopped.

For a moment everything became clear again. I could see the mansion and the people. I could see the garden and the path. I could even see the road I had taken and the green valley. The tramp kept on his cycle, like he always did, followed by his faithful poodle, like it always did. And the maids continued to reap potatoes, like they always did.

A feeling of happiness welled up inside of me and at once it was clear to me what I had to do.

No one saw me pass through the light.

- The End
A short story
29-June-2006.