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24 December 2007 @ 07:29 pm
Theatrical Muse: Week 210: Question 210  
Name: Dr. Sid Hammerback

Fandom: CSI: New York

Word Count: 721


If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about any one thing you wished ~ concerning yourself, your life, the future, or anything else ~ what would you want to know?


At the funeral, the wooden coffins, one large and two smaller, one of those two the tiniest of all, were heavier still, filled with regret and sorrow instead of physical bodies. The pallbearers were people who had known Marianne, Christopher and Michael, and as they lifted up the coffins that those three would never fill, Sid watched on the side lines, waiting for the procession to get going so he could follow in their wake. One chef, her boss, a dear school friend and her cousin carried Marianne’s coffin, and Michael’s, the lightest of them all, was born by two firemen, a school teacher and a librarian. The coffin of Christopher, their oldest child, their first child, was carried between the two others as the line got going, and his pallbearers numbered four, just like the rest. At the back were two of Sid’s cousins and up the front on the right was Sid’s father, who had taken the position without argument. Then, up the front, on the left, was Mac Taylor, a man who wore a stony, grieving expression himself, perhaps one of the most sombre people there after Sid.

The procession moved slowly, priest in front, pallbearers in a thin unwavering line, and the rest of the family following behind. It was a large procession, not limited to just those who were the closest or the most adored, because the invitation had been open and offered to all those Sid, Marianne, Christopher and Michael had been especially familiar with, and even then, there was enough to fill the church ahead, twice over.

The service and the music that went with it, floated out on speakers outside the church, to all the people who stood there, or sat there, on plastic fold out chairs. Sid sat up the front of the church, with his parents, and Marianne’s parents, and all watched on in relevant silence. Mac sat nearby, stony faced and quiet, just like the rest of them. The service finished and hundreds of people paid their respects, people cried, Sid made three eulogies, and then people contributed their part to all the talking. Then, the coffins were carried again, just as gently and with as much reverence as if they contained real people, and not just photographs in stylised frames.

The coffins were buried in the ground after the service had finished, in plots long reserved for that purpose through tradition and past thought, and eventually people began to dissipate. Sid stood there the longest, with his immediate family, and Mac Taylor stood close by, watching, all the while, his face and body silent and still.

People had treated the funeral with the respect it had deserved, and even more on top of that. He was standing there, thinking that now, amongst so many other things, so many questions still left unanswered. It had been, how his wife and sons would have wanted it, if they had ever had any lively input into it at all, instead of being obliterated by fire and rubble into untraceable ash and remains. He was standing here now, looking at their graves, filled but empty, and wondered if, one day, would he find something of them that was left, that had been rescued away by the wind and the explosions? Would anything of them, any three of them, all three of them, ever come back to him? How could he and Mac ever bear knowing, together, that nothing of all the people he had loved, and the person Mac had loved, didn’t really existed in whole or large partial form anymore? He wasn’t sure, and these were only a snippet of all the questions he was still pounding himself with. What he wanted to know though, above most of all, was there indeed, actually, anything left? It bugged him, niggled in the back of his mind that somewhere, there might be something of them left, all alone, all uncared for fragments of a past life and world.

He considered it, and really, the chance of Mac and him ever knowing what had happened to their loved ones, one, was not a very large one. Sid still hoped, though, that one day, the truth and the finality of the matter would be laid to rest, however it may resolve itself, or come to end.
 
 
Current Mood: sadsad
Current Music: Oedipus - Regina Spektor