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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Path of Least Resistance” Down in the Dirt (v131) (the September 2015 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

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After the Eulogy

Jessica Marie Baumgartner

    Carl wasn’t sure how he made it home. He didn’t remember the drive, but there he was, in the house he had shared with his wife, the home they were trying to fill with the sounds of a baby’s cries. Now all of that was gone, taken in an instant.
    Unable to put the urn down, he sat on the couch and stared. Time became irrelevant as his hands rubbed the cool silver containing Karen’s remains. His cell phone rang multiple times but he didn’t move. He could only grip the vessel.
    Shadows grew around him, blanketed the furniture as sun went down. Their cat Smokey jumped into his lap and affectionately begged to be fed. Carl mechanically stood up, cradled the urn in his left arm, and went to the kitchen to feed the cat. He pulled the bag out of the closet and the tap of cat food bits pouring into the plastic bowl filled the empty house.
    He hated that silence once he left Smokey to eat. Karen’s missing voice became all too real. He didn’t want to sit back down, he didn’t want to move. He just stood in the doorway peering into the empty room. He stayed there as the sun went down and lost track of everything. Karen was gone, his light, his muse.
    She had always pushed him while working herself, but he hadn’t finished any of the projects he had promised her. He’d put so many things off. So he remained, standing in anguish until dawn, unable to figure out what to do next.
    The long dark hours embraced him. When a lightening registered, he loathed the new day. A knocked gained his attention, but he refused to go to the door. Smoke ran past him but he didnn’t care.
    “Carl?” His sister in-law’s voice called. As her eyes met his, they grew wide with concern. “Oh my god, what are you doing?”
    He barely registered her presence and grumbled.
    She took his arm and encouraged him to sit at the kitchen table. “Okay, let’s get you something to eat.”
    She raided the refrigerator and started making him a sandwich. When she put the plate in front of him he didn’t respond. Food seemed so empty, almost petty now that Karen was gone.
    “Jesus Carl! We all miss her, but you know my sister would punch you in the face for acting like this right now.”
    A slight smile perked up the corners of his mouth. “Yes, she would.”
    “Then eat damn it, and stop being such a jerk.”
    He stared at the food in front of him. He knew Carmen would pester him until he ate, so he took a small bite. It tasted like nothing. He sat back and chewed while staring at the urn in his lap.
    “You’re going to have to put that down eventually,” she nodded at the urn.
    Her suggestion disturbed him, he couldn’t answer.
    She walked closer and tried to take it from him.
    He jerked it back and shouted, “No, don’t you get it, my life is over.”
    “What? Let’s not make this harder than it already is.”
    “Karen was the only person who understood me, who could give me what I needed to try and accomplish anything. Without her I’m just...”
    “Honestly, you’re being a total douche right now. My sister is probably pissed at you for acting like this. I knew you guys were codependent, but this is just sad.” She turned and left him to his thoughts.
    He pushed away the sandwich and somehow forced himself to make it to the couch. Smokey pushed his way next to the urn and pressed his paws against it. There was a comfort in that gesture that eased Carl slightly. For three weeks he lived that way, lying on the couch. His grief tore him apart, but his duty to Smokey got him up once a day when he would feed him, go to the bathroom, force a glass of water down his own throat, and then lay back down.
    Then one morning he awoke to find Carmed standing over him with a look of disgust. He tightened his grip of the urn and ignored her.
    “Well at least it seems as if he’s been feeding you.” She picked Smokey up and ran her fingers along his.
    The moment Carl closed his eyes again she yanked the urn out of his hands. “Get up!”
    He immediately grabbed for it, but she jumped back.
    “Carl get up, this is ridiculous.”
    “Give it back,” he bellowed.
    “Not until you put yourself in order or I’ll dump these out the window.” She shook the urn causing a mountain of anger to grip him.
    “You’d do that to you sister?”
    “My sister has moved on, the ashes in this thing have nothing more to do with her.”
    “What do you want me to do?” his voice shook as the question rang in his ears.
    “We’ll go through her stuff today, and then you can get back to holding your false wife.”
    “Fine.” He stood up resolving to get things over with quickly.
    They went up the stairs and into the bedroom he’d been avoiding, starting with Karen’s clothes first. He pulled all the hangers from her side out of the closet, and threw them on the bed that he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in without his wife. “Take them all.”
    Carmen sighed and grabbed a trash bag from the bathroom. Coming back to fill it she said, “You know we don’t have to do this now. I just want you to stop moping around.”
    “I’m sorry I can’t just get on with my life like everyone else,” he gritted his teeth. “Take it all, her clothes, jewelry, everything.” He grabbed the urn from his sister-in-law and went back downstairs.
    Meaning to retreat, he made it to the foot of the stairs before his heart lurched. He couldn’t allow everything of Karen’s to be taken without watching. Slowly climbing the stairs he rubbed the urn.
    “What the hell are you doing?” He stared at Carmen sitting on the bed going Karen’s drawer in the nigtstand.
    She held up the story Karen had just begun as he moved toward her. “I didn’t realize she was writing again.”
    Carl saw the tears pour down Carmen’s face and looked away. “We were trying to start a family too.” It felt good to finally tell someone.
    “She never said anything about it,” Carmen gasped.
    “Nope, didn’t want to jinx it. You know how superstitious she was.” He allowed a quiet laugh to escape him.
    “At least she had time to try.”
    He sighed bitterly.
    “She always said you were the real writer.”
    “Been working on it since I met her, she was the only one who could keep me going.”
    “I guess she did that for both of us. She was the only one who could get me to do something with myself.”
    Hearing about his sister-in-law’s lack of ambition eased Carl a little. She had always been like a little sister to him after having loved Karen for so long. His remorse softened as Carmen handed him his wife’s words.
    “Thanks,” he said as Smokey jumped up.
    “You know, you could finish it for her.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Why not?”
    “This is hers, not mine.”
    She didn’t argue as he skimmed the pages. He found himself engrossed in his wife’s thoughts, her world. He leaned back and breathed deep.
    “What did you think?”
    “I have some work to do.”
    “You’re going to finish it?”
    “Not this,” he tapped the notebook, “It’s time I hammer out the last of my novel.” Standing resolutely, he set the urn on the nightstand next to a picture of him and Karen.
    Carmen didn’t hide her voice as she spoke to it, “Don’t worry sis, he’s going to be alright.”
    When he let her out he smiled. “Even now she’s still encouraging me.”
    “She always did.” Carmen laughed.

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