A lot of people showed up for Big Karl’s funeral. It was with some surprise, to Meef, to see so many people–people she’d never seen. Oh sure, a handful of them neighbors. But there was a decorated soldier in full uniform–a Green Beret, who’d flown in from New York. And there were twins, a boy and girl, with golden hair that was painful to stare straight into–well, behaved children who asked if they could sing a duet after the eulogy was–oh and the eulogy! Given by a black woman with a thunderous voice who’s only overshadowing was the wide-brimmed hat that tilted up and down, left and right like a yellow UFO as she recalled Karl’s lustrous life.

   Whew: lots of people. None of them actual mourners. Not even Meef. She was glad her husband was dead. The ungrateful bastard–and still unrecognizable, from the tales she heard from these people. He’d been a totally different person to them. She was utterly confused. But she allowed the eulogy to go on, uninterrupted and then allow the twins to sing a perfect, eunuch-voiced rendition of  “Amazing Grace.”