CHAPTER
42
LED BY MERCURY, the women bathed and prepared Ford’s body for burial in silence. Their sadness was reflected in the tears that washed freely down their cheeks, and their affection for him was clear in every compassionate touch. After his body was clean, dressed in the new clothes he’d worn at the festival, and lovingly wrapped in a soft blanket, they buried Ford just before sunset, near the creek, in a grove of cedar trees.
While they’d been preparing Ford’s body and digging his grave, Mercury had thought about what kind of ceremony he would’ve liked. She considered and discarded rites from Pagan funerals she’d attended, finally deciding to speak from her heart.
Everyone wore what they considered their best clothes. Mercury smiled through her tears as she pulled on the beautiful dress she’d been wearing when Ford had waltzed her around the firepit. She asked their little group to circle around Ford’s newly dug—and filled—grave.
“Please face east and then turn with me as I call the elements,” Mercury said. With her friends—her family—she faced east and invoked, “Air, I call you to this Rite of Passage.” Then Mercury led the group clockwise to the south and called, “Fire, I call you to this Rite of Passage.” She continued to the west. “Water, I call you to this Rite of Passage.” And, finally, north to invoke, “Earth, I call you to this Rite of Passage.”
Then Mercury spoke the words that lifted from her heart.
“Those of us who believe in the Olde Ways know that when a person dies, it is only their shell that we lose—that the soul, the spirit, will return again in a newborn body to live another life. This is a tenet of our Pagan faith that has been taught since long before recorded words.”
Mercury walked the circle of her friends, filling the wineglass they each held, as she continued, “O gracious Lady of the Earth, She who gives our worn bodies rest—I do invoke your presence. O powerful Lord of the Forests, He who embodies all that is wild and male in this land—I do invoke your presence. We thank thee for protecting and guiding Oxford Xavier Dias to the golden portal of the Summerlands beyond our own, and we ask that Ford knows the love and well-wishes we hold for him within our hearts.”
Mercury completed the circle and moved to the center of the grave as she filled her own wineglass and then put the bottle down. She lifted her glass, and her friends lifted theirs in response. “I propose a toast—to the gracious and lovely Goddess of the Earth. Blessed be!”
“Blessed be!” Everyone echoed before they drank.
Mercury raised her glass again and the others followed her. “I propose a toast—to the strong and laughing God of the Forest. Blessed be!”
“Blessed be!” Again everyone drank with her.
Mercury raised her glass one last time. “And also I propose a final toast—to our beloved friend, Ford, who will be well missed, and who now revels in the infinite beauty and magick of the Summerlands. Blessed be!”
“Blessed be!”
“Mercury, would it be okay with you if I offered a prayer?” Karen asked softly.
Mercury smiled through her tears. “Yes, I’m sure Ford would like that.”
They bowed their heads while Karen spoke a simple Christian prayer over the new grave. Then, with her adult friends, Mercury drained the last of the wine and the kids poured theirs over the grave as an offering to the Goddess of the Earth and God of the Forest. Then slowly, somberly, the group returned to the cave.
Karen walked beside Mercury and took her hand. “The light began when you called to the elements. It was green. You glowed in it. Then, as your Rite of Passage progressed, the green went from your body into the earth, and it spread out into the Painted Hills. It changed color so that, for just a moment, the hills were lit by a soft glow that reminded me of my grandmother’s porch light.” Karen squeezed her hand before she released it. “I thought it was important that you knew.”
“Thank you,” Mercury said softly. “Thank you, Karen. I appreciate knowing that. And thank you for your prayer.”
Dinner was a sad, silent affair. The small group was exhausted, and not long after full dark, Mercury was sitting with Khaleesi and Stella, staring into the fire, as everyone else had quietly gone to their beds. The dog never left Mercury’s side, but shadowed her everywhere, providing comfort as only the love of a canine can.
Mercury didn’t notice Stella was crying until her friend sniffled and wiped at her nose.
“Here.” She handed Stella one of the tissues she’d carried to the grave in her pocket.
“Thanks.” Stella blew her nose, and then a sob tore loose from her, and she buried her face in her hands and wept.
Mercury scooted over closer to Stella so she should could put her arm around her friend’s shaking shoulders.
“I know. I can’t believe he’s gone. And I can’t believe I only knew him for a few days. It feels like he took part of me with him,” said Mercury softly as she wiped tears from her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry.” Stella continued to sob into her hands. “So fucking sorry!”
“Honey, it wasn’t your fault.”
Stella looked up at Mercury. “Why the hell didn’t I know he was in danger? I asked! Before we left I asked if we’d be okay—if we should take Gemma. All I got from my useless fucking intuition was that we needed to go to Mitchell and that it would be fine. But it wasn’t fine. Why the hell didn’t I know to bring Gemma?”
“I don’t think she could’ve saved him,” Mercury said. “Ford said it himself. The green fog broke something inside him. It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated. “You know Ford wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”