“So nice of you to come to the viewing,” Henrietta said, her tone anything but gracious.
Chris inclined his head politely, straightened his tie, stepped into the line. It was a sobering sight, a queue of humans dressed in black, snaking through the funeral parlor like a misplaced oriental dragon. All to see his grandfather.
Chris stepped up to the casket leaned down and pressed a kiss to the old man’s cold, unfeeling brow.
“I did it, Grandpa,” he said. “I did it for you.” He laid a box down on the soft white satin of the casket. Chris wouldn’t be at the funeral, but the rest of the family didn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, he was the stubborn child who grandfather had loved, who’d spurned grandfather’s care and dropped out of school, wasted his potential and all his relatives sacrificed for him.
Chris hadn’t wasted anything. Grandfather was the only one who knew that. When Chris swept past Aunt Henrietta, he flashed her a sarcastic smile. If someone dared open the box - for most people didn’t leave gifts till the funeral - they would find the heart of a dragon inside.
Chris had joined the Order.
1 comment:
The Shang dragons?
I had not thought of funeral when i saw the word viewing, but I like it very much.
Ahh the outcast that is not really an outcast to the one that matters. I get the vibe that Chris did as his grandfather wished and he was able to fulfill that wish, just not before he died.
I liked that Chris loved his grandfather enough to come back, even though he knew his family did not want him around.
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