Josiah Marquez

Present day...


I realized that I had never actually been to a funeral until I saw my friend in a coffin. I didn’t need to change the colors that always surrounded me for that moment; black was my favorite color. But I never imagined that seeing so many people in that color could make me so sad. I was defeated, lost in a sea of suffering and pain. Being there, at the cemetery, the same place where Lucah was buried, reminded me of the day I learned he would be laid to rest there.
When my brother died, I even tried to go to his funeral. Despite hating him and having spent much of my life fighting with Lucah, I was saddened to discover he had died while I was going to the hospital to see Julia's birth. I was drinking because I asked Luana about the estimated date of Julia’s delivery, and the bitch said she couldn’t tell me. I was enraged because I couldn’t even get close to Ana during the final stages of her pregnancy, as my cousin told me that my ex would feel sick just seeing me from afar. I learned that Ana had given birth and that bitch Luana prevented me from even entering the maternity ward, saying she was authorized to call the police and everything.
Then came the news of Lucah’s death. Even while drunk, when Harry, Bernardo, and Bill offered to go with me to say goodbye to my brother, we found Luana at the cemetery entrance. I remember it as if it were yesterday. She was apathetic, emotionless, in a long dark dress with her hair loose... Her expression changed when she saw us, looking shocked. She ran up to us and said we couldn’t go in because Ana was in recovery and debilitated, and she didn’t want my presence there. My cousin even told me that Ana would be staying with the newborn in my mother’s house during those first days, and that I shouldn’t go there and bother her.
I took a deep breath, biting my nails while I was in that damned chapel saying goodbye to Bernardo. I bit the edge of my right index finger until it hurt and bled, feeling the hot face of tears streaming down like wild beasts. I was so weak that my body seemed to be waging a war to stay upright, while past memories filled my head, eager to break free into my conscious mind...
I remembered how pissed I was when my cousin blocked me at the entrance of the cemetery when I was trying to say goodbye to my brother, so I went back home and resumed my destructive routine of drinking and smoking weed. I could never understand why Luana lied about my ex, saying she would be at Marta’s house when my mother was actually traveling with her boyfriend, Henrique, in France. I didn’t know if that lie was at Ana’s request, but it led to all that mess with the speakers. I would never have done that if I had known that my daughter and Ana were there. And, unable to say goodbye to my brother, I continued with the same destructive behaviors to clear my mind: smoking and drinking, respecting what was “supposedly” Ana’s wish. My heart bled for not having seen the face of the baby who was also mine.
I felt deep down in my soul that I was the father of that child, that my DNA was running through that baby’s body. It was an inexplicable intuition, and no one could convince me otherwise, not even Ana’s furious screams that the baby wasn’t mine.
Returning to the present, I approached and stood before the coffin, sometimes pushing away intrusive memories, sometimes observing my friend in a “shroud,” with his black and glossy hair perfectly aligned, his serene expression. Even though I didn’t want to lose him, even though my heart was shattered, feeling like a limb had been ripped from my own body, I understood that this was a rest for Bernardo. My friend was finally leaving this existence where he couldn’t interact with the world, and I was sure that if there was a place meant for people who were genuinely beautiful at heart, Ber’s soul was there... Shining like the star he was.
Ber was with me at all times. I remember that when I broke up with Ana, I was deeply troubled and fell into depression. I would spend hours crying and looking at every beautiful piece of her smile in her photos, rereading the passionate letters she sent me when I was away from home. To help me feel better, my friend suggested we use our days off to travel. And so, I tried to forget Ana. With women, drinks, and joints, hanging out with new friends, and even Isabela, who was very close to Ber and would join us. I tried to shield my heart to avoid thinking about giving up. Because even when I broke up with the love of my life, I continued my exhausting routine in the military purgatory. I kept going to save her from my father. Even with a broken heart, I still loved her. I could never stop feeling so much... wanting so much... And my friend saw that. Bernardo was very concerned about how weak and shaken I was and always tried to make me feel better.
Avoiding the persistent and intrusive memories, I moved away a bit, looking around and searching for my brown-haired goddess, the wonderful woman who, even though she had given me an ultimatum and “broken up” with me, had still moaned beneath me all night long to help us feel better, giving me the perfect escape from the thoughts that screamed and scratched at my mind. She was the goddess who had kissed me in the midst of our tears until we fell asleep from exhaustion. The empathetic woman who showed me compassion, even though I had denied it to her. Her eyes, wet and red, met mine. Even devastated, Docinho still displayed her strength. Ana was on the other side of the chapel with blue walls, sitting on a bench and holding Isabela in her arms, kissing our friend’s head as she cried desolately with her back against my wife’s chest. Isa had become very attached to Ber; after all, who wouldn’t get attached to such a fun and intelligent man?