A funeral for a friend.

Karma Part 12
By Amanda D.

I was laying in bed, just kinda spacing out when Anita came in. She sat down on the bed and hugged me fiercely. We both cried for a long while. After the outpouring tapered off into sniffles, she asked “How are you holding up?”

“Not very well.” I replied as the tears started coming on again.

She held me again. “Shhh. It’s not your fault,” she said, trying to comfort me.

“Y…Yes it is.” I cried.

“No it…”

“Yes it is!” I screamed. “We were arguing when she lost control. I wanted her to help me get away. I was s…so…so scared of going to jail. But when she found out that I was supposed to go to the court house…I lost it. We argued and then…”

“Amanda, you can’t blame yourself. Even if you guys were arguing.”

She hung with me for a while more. Eventually she told me “Mom’s downstairs, why don’t we go down and get you something to eat?”

“Not hungry.”

“Come on.” she said puling at my good arm. “I’m not gonna let you stay up here all day and sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.” I insisted. “I… I just miss her.”

“I know baby. Come on let’s go down stairs.”

Knowing I wasn’t going to win this argument I relented. “All right give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be down.”

She gave me a quick smile and headed out of the room. I got up threw my robe on and shuffled in the bathroom to take care of business. When that was done, I let out a deep sigh and headed down to the kitchen. Rita was hanging up the phone as I entered. I plopped down at the table. Rita walked over and kissed the top of my head. “What would you like?”

“Just coffee, thanks.” Without another word she walked over and poured me a cup. “Who was on the phone?”

“It was Kim’s mother, calling to check on you and to let us know about the funeral arrangements.” she replied.

“I have to call Kim later,” I said absently. “So when is it?”

“Wednesday morning at Moliver, over on Grove St. in West Roxbury,” Rita answered. I couldn’t help it, the tears started again. The two of them came over and hugged me.

That afternoon ,Kim came by the house to check on me. She was in worse shape than I was. We sat and talked and cried for a couple hours. It was hard to not tell her the truth about what happened. I wrestled with myself the entire time, but eventually my fear of anyone learning the truth won out. It was so stressful trying to keep my mouth shut, I actually breathed a sigh of relief when she left.

The rest of the day and most of the following ones were a blur of phone calls, crying and vegetative trances. What I really needed, sleep, however, didn’t seem to be on the menu. Every time I would close my eyes for even a moment, all I would see was the truck lights coming at us. By the time Wednesday came around I was pretty much a zombie.

Promptly at 9am Wednesday night, we arrived at the cemetery. Despite the dreary weather the grave side was packed. It was sad and nice at the same time to see how many lives Pat had affected. We, Rita, Anita, Kim and myself, waited patiently under our umbrellas, along with the others for the family to arrive.

They arrived in short order. The pallbearers, with Pat’s two brothers at the front of the casket, led the way. They were followed by her mother, sister, and her grand parents. Her father brought up the rear. He was wearing a black ribbon across his chest, which he cut, once everyone was settled, to signal the beginning of the service.

I was crying so hard during most of the service that I could barely hear what the rabbi was saying. The eulogy seemed absurdly short for such a wonderful person, but later I found out that it was actually quite lengthy. Time seemed to be moving in spurts and stutters.

A renewed round of wailing accompanied the lowering Pat’s casket into the ground. Her mother howled in anguish at the sight of it. The sound was almost enough to drive me insane with guilt. It seemed like it took hours, but eventually the casket came to rest at the bottom of grave. Some those attending took a minute to throw a handful of dirt on top of it as they passed by. Myself, I couldn’t do it. As far as I was concerned, where I stood was close enough.

With the service all but over, the non family members formed two lines facing each other. Pat’s family then walked between the lines as we all chanted a small prayer for relief of their sorrow. Once the final family members had passed between us, everyone walked slowly to their cars, stopping along the way to pick up blades of grass to throw over their right shoulders, as is the tradition.

From the cemetery, we headed over to a local Synagogue for a get together with the family and the others who had attended. We had been one of the last cars in the procession line, and need to make a stop on the way, so we were among the last to arrive. The basement where the gathering was held was absolutely packed. After we got our coats hung up, we waded into the crowd. Anita and I almost immediately came across Pat’s siblings. We spoke with them for several minutes, and some how I managed to keep it together somewhat.

All that went out the window at our next stop, as we went over to offer condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Wendle. Pat’s mother hugged each of us tightly. She asked how I was doing. I told her that other than my arm, I was doing as well as I could. When she told me how glad she was that I was alright, I lost it. I began crying and babbling apologies. Pat’s father came over and tried to help me by telling me it wasn’t my fault, and that only made things worse. Anita gently pulled me away from them and led me to a seat in the back of the room. My sister and mother sat with me for the next twenty or so minutes until I was back in control.

“We can leave anytime you want to,” Anita said reassuringly.

I put my hand on hers. “Thank you.” I said as I nuzzled her arm. I used her to steady myself as I got up from the chair. “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked.

I gave her a weak smile and said “I’ll be fine.”

When I got into the bathroom I took a look at myself in the mirror. What a sight I was with my arm in a cast, my eyes all puffy and swollen from the combination of crying and the beating Paul had given me. The look was rounded out by the cut on my lip and the giant bruise on the side of my face. The raccoon like black circles around my eyes from my runny mascara only accentuated the look. Strangely I took a sort of perverse comfort out of looking as beat up on the outside as I felt on the inside. I finished my business and headed back to where the others were waiting. “All set?” I asked them. They all agreed and we slowly walked back to the car.

When we got back home late that afternoon I went straight to bed and slept the rest of the day and the entire night .

The next morning I woke to find the numbness still with me. It left me feeling kinda empty inside, but at least I wasn’t crying every couple of seconds. It also had the benefit of allowing me to concentrate on other issues as well. This was good, because I still needed to figure out how to keep myself out of jail.

Phil had left a message Thursday night explaining that I needed to appear before Judge Gardener on Monday morning at10am. He also said that if the tape I had made was salvageable that I needed to get it to him before then, so he could hear it.

I went over and pulled the ruined player out of the trash basket in my room. The player was obviously never going to work again. It was so smashed that I need a screwdriver to pry open the tape compartment.

I pulled the remains of the tape out and knew at once it was junk. The cassette itself was cracked, and one of the wheels was off kilter. The tape had gotten caught on something inside the player, and was a crinkled mess.

I picked up the phone to call Phil and give him the bad news when it hit me like a ton of bricks. The answer was so obvious I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it already. It might not keep me out of jail, but there was a good chance that either Mia, Paul, or both might be joining me. It wasn’t the perfect solution, but in this case I would take what I could get.

I got hold of Phil’s office, but he was busy with another client, so I asked his secretary to hook me up with his voicemail. I left him a message detailing what I had remembered and asked him to call me with his opinion. All I could do at that point ,was hope for the best.

I spent most of the rest of the day vegetating out in front of the TV. Phil called back with some good news, just in time to save me from slipping back into depression. He told me that he had called the judge as soon as he got my message and Judge Gardener had agreed to supply a warrant. I thanked Phil for his efforts. “Don’t get too excited yet.” he said. “We don’t know for sure where it will lead.” I assured him that I would keep my expectations low.

The weekend went by in a blur, and before I knew it, it was Monday. Rita and I met Phil in front of the court house. He was all business and I was a bundle of nerves. Last night had been hard emotionally. “Are you ready?” Phil asked me.

“I suppose.” I replied.
“Good. Chin up. You’ll be fine.” he said.

“”Where are we going?” Rita asked.

“We‘re going to his chambers. But since your husband’s lawyer is going to be there, his Honor only wants Amanda and me in there.” he said as we came to a stop. “I’m sorry Rita, but you’re going to have to wait out here,” he added.

We entered the judge’s office and saw that Mia was already there, waiting along with a court officer. Phil motioned to me where to sit and made a noncommittal grunt in Mai’s direction. I looked over in her direction and saw a smug little grin on her face and she shook her head as if in disgust at me.

Phil leaned over to me and said “Pay her no mind. In about five minutes she’ll be getting hers.” That made me smile.

Judge Gardener, a stenographer and the Assistant DA entered the room at exactly ten. “We have several items to go over. So why don’t we get right down to business.” he said, taking his seat behind his large oak desk. “First off” he began “we have the matter of witness tampering. A charge brought up by Ms. Amanda David.”

Mia’s jaw hit the floor with an audible thud. “It is her contention that attorney Mia Blue has on several occasions contacted her concerning the assault case against her father Paul David, case number AS1435719, to which Ms. David is the primary witness. Mr. Akamideus, these are serious charges your client brings. What do you have in the way of evidence?”

Phil cleared his throat. “Your Honor,” he began, “in compliance with your order the telephone company has furnished us with the records for the last four months of incoming calls to both telephone lines at the complainant’s home.” Phil handed copies to both Judge Gardener, and Mia. “As you can see” he continued “I have circled several calls on the statement, all of them to the direct number listed for my client. After verifying Phone Company’s listing records, we have determined that all of the calls came from the personal office number of attorney Mia Blue.”

Judge Gardener sifted through the pages for several minutes, making notations in his notebookfrom time to time. Mia sat in her chair nonplused. I could almost see the steam rising off her head. “Ms. David, are you willing to go on record saying that Ms. Blue contacted you directly on these dates?” he asked, pointing at the pages in his hand.

“Yes your Honor,” I replied. He scribbled something else into his notes.

“Ms. Blue,” the judge asked, “do you have any kind of an explanation for these phone calls?”

Mia stood up. “Your Honor, I have no idea who made these calls. I assure you, that they weren’t made by me.” Mia said indignantly. “There are several people within my practice that could get access to that line.” she added.

“Be that as it may,” Judge Gardener retorted, “these calls did come from your office, so this is what I’m going to do.”

He took a moment to clear his throat. “Ms. Blue, pursuant to an official investigation into the charges, I am hereby suspending your license to practice law in the state of Massachusetts. Furthermore, I’m turning responsibility for this investigation over to the state’s Attorney Review Board. If it is their determination that there is enough evidence to bring official charges, you may well loose your license permanently. Do you have any questions?”

Mia hung her head and quietly answered, “No.”

“Good. Your place in these proceedings is now finished. You may leave.” Judge Gardener said piously. Mia picked up her things and skulked out the door. Phil gave me a satisfied look as she exited.

The judge shuffled some papers on his desk. “Now, on to other matters.” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Ah. Here it is,” he muttered again. “Ms. David” he said with authority, “I cannot tell you how displeased I was when I heard that you had been arrested in another state after being instructed, as part of your bail agreement, not to leave this one. To be frank, I had every intention of having you held in custody until trial. However with these new developments, I am going to take a short recess, so that Mr. Akamideus and Mr. Ross (the ADA) can see if some kind of agreement can be made in this case. Gentlemen, you have fifteen minutes before we resume. I suggest that you use that time wisely.”

As soon as Judge Gardener left Phil and Mr. Ross huddled up in the corner and began negotiating.

Exactly fifteen minutes later the judge returned. As he sat down, he asked, “Mr. Ross have the two of you come to an agreement?”

“Yes your Honor, we have.” Mr. Ross replied as he handed the judge the papers I had just signed. Judge Gardener took a few minutes and read them over.

When he was finished he looked at me and said, “Miss David, you fully understand and agree to the recommendations on these forms?”

“Yes your Honor.” I replied.

“Very good then, let the record show that on this date, case number AS1435719 is considered settled. The District Attorney’s office and Miss David’s council have agreed that with no admission of guilt, Miss David will perform forty hours of community service as assigned by Community Service Office. All agreed?” he asked. Everyone nodded their heads. “Good. You are all dismissed,” Judge Gardener said as got up and left the room.

I left his office in a daze. I couldn’t believe how things had turned out. Rita was ecstatic. “We should celebrate.” she said happily

“I’m not really in the celebrating mood,” I replied, suddenly feeling guilty for the momentary happiness.

“Oh Amanda, don’t be like that.” Rita said.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t mean it. It’s just…” I replied sadly.

“I know dear.” Rita said sympathetically as she gave me a hug. I think I may have cried all the way home. Not just because I wanted nothing more to share the good news with Pat, and couldn’t, but also from relief .

The following Friday night, Anita, Kim and I met up with Pat’s sister and two brothers at Murph’s. We gave Pat a true Irish funeral that night. We drank and laughed and cried and commiserated and drank some more. It was a night of remembrance, but also a chance to put the funeral behind all of us and to try to move on a bit.

Myself, I had one last thing to get sorted out, so several days later I went back to the grave. I stood there for a long time, looking at the freshly replaced sod. “Pat? It’s me, Mandy...Err... I mean Jake.” I said. “I …I’m so sorry.” I cried as I dropped to my knees. “I don’t know how I can ever fix things …” I croaked as my throat tightened up. I knelt there and cried for several minutes. When I finally regained some measure of control, I leaned over and kissed the gravestone. “I love you. I never said it, but I should of. I’ll never forget you.” Tears were streaming down my cheeks again. I stayed for a bit more and said a few silent prayers for her.

Eventually I made myself get up and leave. As much as I wanted to stay there forever and wallow in my guilt, I just couldn’t. I needed to begin planning my next move. Paul wasn’t going to sit still after what I did to his little toady. He had been too quiet, and I was starting to get nervous.

When I arrived back at the house, Rita was standing in the driveway arguing with some guy I had never seen before. I got out of the cab and could tell by the volume of her voice that she was pissed. I walked over, just as she was throwing a large envelope of some kind on the ground.

“I don’t care if that’s a legal document!” Rita yelled.

“Ma’am, please. You need to calm down,” the stranger pleaded.

I put my hand on Rita’s shoulder and asked, “Ma, what’s the problem?”

Her face was beet red with anger. “This …This…asshole …says we have to leave our house!” she exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. The guy she had been berating handed me the envelope that Rita had thrown on the ground.

“I’m sorry to be the one to deliver the bad news.” he stated. “But these are court ordered evection papers. I…”

He tried to continue, but I cut him off. “Can you give me a moment?” I asked him as I paged through the documents from the envelope. (The stuff inside seemed genuine enough. But what do I know? I’m no lawyer. Got to much respect for myself to be one of them.) “Who are you exactly?” I asked him.

“My name is James Grey. I work for a processes sever firm,” he told me. Then slightly bolder, he continued “Look, lady I’m just doin’ my job here, and if had known what I was getting into here, I would have asked for hazard pay.”

“Hazard pay? I’ll give you hazard pay.” Rita screamed. I considered letting her tear his balls off for a second, but then thought better of it, and physically restrained her.

Realizing his life might be in jeopardy, James began talking much faster. “But it’s nothing personal. I just need a signature, and I’ll leave you two alone,” he concluded with a pleading look on his face.

I decided to have some mercy on him and signed his clipboard. “What are you doing?” Rita screeched. I ignored her, finished signing and told James to run. (Which he did.)

“Amanda! Why did you sign that?” she asked incredulously. I put my arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Ma. Let’s go inside and call Phil. You can tell him about this and I’m sure he’ll be able to take care of it,.” I said, trying to sound confident.

We got inside and Rita headed right for the phone. (Ya know, I almost felt sorry for Phil as she furiously dialed his number.) Once she got him on the line, I had to leave the room. She was hollering so loud, I thought I was going to go deaf.

While I was concerned about the possibility of being evicted, in my heart of hearts, I was convinced that Phil would tell her that Paul’s new lawyer had done something illegal. He would tell Rita that everything would be fine, and she would calm down.

However the look on her face as she came into the room led me to a much different conclusion. “What did Phil have to say?” I asked her.

“I…I…need to go to his office and bring him the paperwork,” she responded in a sort of stunned voice. “Ma, what did he say?” I repeated. “He said that he needs to see what was dropped off. But there’s a good chance your father may have finally found someone to get us out of here,” she said glumly.

“But he broke into the house and attacked you!” I exclaimed. She shrugged her shoulders and said “I’ve got to get over to Phil’s right now!” She got in the car and drove off. As I watched her leave I wondered, how short-lived my little victory over Paul would actually be.

Authors note:
I would like to take a moment to thank the following people for helping to make Karma possible:

Holly my editor. I don't know how she puts up with me sometimes, but somehow she does.

Nicole, Rachel, Cindy and Chelle for reading these first and beating me over the head with all my mistakes. You don't know how much help you are to me.

Erin for giving me my first opportunity to post my stories.

Last but not least all you nice pepole out there that take the time to read this issue after issue. Without all of you to read it, there would be no reason to write it.

Thank you all
Amanda