Around 5:00 a.m., Florry had awakened and realized Liza was gone. She panicked and ran to Nineva’s house, where Amos had just started breakfast. He and Nineva searched frantically around the house and barns while Florry drove to the pink cottage to use the phone. She called Joel and Dr. Hilsabeck and briefly described the situation.
Joel was en route from Oxford when he passed the sheriff’s car leaving his home. Once inside, he heard the rest of the story. Florry was a mess, blaming herself relentlessly and gasping for breath. After Joel finally talked to Stella by phone, he insisted his aunt ride with him to the hospital. She was admitted with chest pains and subdued with tranquilizers. He left her there and went to the sheriff’s office to use Nix’s phone on a private line. He talked to Dr. Hilsabeck, who was distraught. He forced himself to call Gran and Papa Sweeney in Kansas City with the news that their daughter was dead. He called Stella again and they tried to think through the next few days.
He left the sheriff’s office and drove to Magargel’s Funeral Home. In a cold, dark room somewhere in the rear of the building, he looked at his mother’s beautiful face for the last time. And selected a casket.
He made it back to his car before he broke down. Sitting in the parking lot, staring at nothing as the wipers clicked back and forth, Joel was thoroughly overwhelmed by grief and cried for a long time.
The service was at the Methodist church, the one built by Pete’s grandfather, the one in which Joel and Stella were baptized as children. The minister was new and freshly rotated into town by the Methodist hierarchy. He knew the history but had not lived through it, and he was determined to reunite the factions and heal his congregation.
At first, Joel and Stella planned a private burial, one similar to the quick send-off Pete had planned for himself at Old Sycamore, but friends convinced them that their mother deserved a proper funeral. They relented and met with the minister.
The crowd was huge, twice the size of all available seating, and people sat in their cars in the parking lot and waited for a glimpse of the casket. The friends and acquaintances who had been denied the chance to say good-bye to Pete made sure they arrived early for Liza’s farewell.
Mr. and Mrs. Sweeney sat between Joel and Stella and stared at the closed casket five feet away. Mrs. Sweeney was inconsolable and never stopped wiping her face. Mr. Sweeney was stoic, almost angry, as if he blamed the entire backward state for his daughter’s demise. Joel and Stella were tired of crying and sat stunned, disbelieving, desperately waiting for the hour to pass. The occasion was too somber for any effort at levity. There were no warm eulogies of good and funny times with the deceased. No mention of Pete, not in that church. The Bannings’ nightmare was continuing, and those watching it were helpless to intervene.
A few hymns, a brief sermon, some scripture, and it was over in less than an hour, as promised by the minister. As Miss Emma Faye Riddle began her last mournful number, the congregation rose, and the closed casket was pushed down the center aisle, followed by Joel and Stella, arm in arm. Behind them Mr. and Mrs. Sweeney held each other and tried to keep themselves together. Behind them were other members of the Sweeney family, but no Bannings. Florry was at home in bed. The rest of the small family was rapidly dying off. Of course, none of the coloreds were allowed inside the church.
As Joel trailed the casket, and the organ played, and the ladies cried, he was aware of the many stares. Near the rear, he glanced to his right, and in the back row was the prettiest face he had ever seen. Mary Ann Malouf had made the trip from Oxford with a sorority sister to pay her respects. Seeing her was the only pleasant moment of the day. Stepping into the vestibule, he told himself that one day he would marry that girl.
An hour later, a small crowd gathered at Old Sycamore for the interment. Just the family, a few friends, Amos and Nineva, Marietta, and a dozen other Negroes who lived on the land. Florry insisted on being there, but Joel insisted that she remain in the pink cottage. Joel was very much in charge now, making decisions that he had no desire to make. After a prayer, some scripture, and the same haunting rendition of “Amazing Grace” by Marietta, four men lowered Liza’s casket into the ground, less than a foot from the one holding the remains of her husband. Side by side, they could now rest together for eternity.
She was as responsible for his death as he was for hers. Above them, they left behind two fine children who didn’t deserve to be punished for the sins of their parents.
The week after the funeral was Thanksgiving. Joel sorely needed to return to law school and start cramming for finals, though as a third-year student he was coasting with a much easier schedule. On Monday, he and Stella drove to Oxford. He met with the dean and laid it all on the table. Some rather complicated family matters had to be dealt with, and he needed to be excused for a few more days. The dean knew what was happening, was sympathetic, and promised arrangements could be made. Joel was in the top 10 percent of his class and would graduate the following May.
While in Oxford, Joel invited Mary Ann to lunch at the Mansion to meet his sister. Driving over, he had admitted to Stella his feelings for the girl, and Stella was delighted her brother was finally involved in a serious romance. Since their mother’s breakdown and the death of their father, the two had talked more, and more openly. They leaned on each other and held back little. As Bannings, they had been raised to say almost nothing, but those days were gone. There had always been too many secrets in the family.
The two young ladies were immediate friends. In fact, they bonded so quickly and talked and laughed so much that Joel was astonished. He said little during lunch because he hardly got the chance. Driving home, Stella told him he’d better get a ring on her finger before someone else did. Joel said he wasn’t worried. The lunch lifted their somber spirits, but by the time they crossed into Ford County they were thinking about their mother again, and the conversation died. When Joel turned in to the drive, he inched along the gravel and stopped halfway to the house. He turned off the motor and they looked at their home.
Stella finally spoke. “I never thought I would say this, but I really don’t like this place now. The happy memories are all gone, shattered by what’s happened. I never want to set foot in that house again.”
“I think we should burn it,” Joel said.
“Don’t be stupid. Are you serious?”
“Sort of. I can’t stomach the idea of Jackie Bell and her kids and that creep McLeish living here. He’ll become the gentleman farmer, a real big shot. That’s hard to swallow.”
“But you’re never going to live here again, right, Joel?”
“Right.”
“Nor am I. So what difference does it make? We’ll come back when we have to and visit Florry, but after she’s gone I’ll never come back.”
“What about the cemetery?”
“What about it? How are we supposed to benefit from staring at old tombstones and wiping tears? They’re dead, and it’s painful because they shouldn’t be dead, but they’re gone, Joel. I’m trying to forget how they died and remember how they lived. Let’s remember the good times, if that’s possible.”
“It seems impossible now.”
“Yes, it does.”
“It’s all moot, Stella. We’re losing the place anyway.”
“I know. Just sign the deed and get it over with. I’m going back to the big city.”