Cloudburst (Storms 2)

“I was thinking,” she said after a few quiet moments between us, “that maybe we could go looking for your new dress this coming weekend.”

“I don’t know,” I said. The idea of attending the concert Donald was arranging seemed so far off. I couldn’t imagine not thinking about Ryder every single silent moment in my life. How could I concentrate on doing anything?

“It’s more for me than for you. Please,” she added.

“Okay,” I said.

That brought a smile to her face. She kissed me good night and left.

When I woke up in the morning, I knew I would go to the cemetery to see the last part of Ryder’s funeral. I would keep far back and hope that none of the girls from school would see me there. Jessica called to see if I had changed my mind, but I didn’t tell her my intentions.

“We heard they’re not letting Summer remain at Pacifica,” she told me.

“Lucky Pacifica,” I said.

“I know you haven’t been out and about, but they already have the story on the front pages of Hollywood Whisper magazine in the supermarket. There’s no picture of Ryder, of course, but there’s a whole spread on Bradley and Beverly. Someone shot photos of them from a distance with a super lens or something. Have you watched Entertainment Tonight? They did about ten minutes on them and Ryder.”

“No. I haven’t watched any television.”

“You’re better off,” she said. “I’ll call you after the funeral if you like.”

“No, don’t. I’ll see you when I return to school.”

“Okay,” she said. “If you’re sure . . .”

“Thanks. Good-bye, Jessica.”

I hung up before she could say anything else that might disturb me.

I didn’t tell Jordan what my intentions were on Monday. She had a luncheon to attend in Santa Barbara, which meant that she would leave early. She asked me all morning if I’d be all right.

“I could cancel,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I told her. To illustrate it and keep her from asking too many questions, I ate breakfast well and then went out with one of the books I had to read for English. I sat by the lake and really did try to read, although my gaze kept slipping off the page and to my watch.

As soon as Jordan drove off, I rose and went to my car. When I arrived at the church, I saw the crowd of gawkers and the paparazzi. The police were keeping everyone a good distance away. Apparently, Bradley, Beverly, and Summer had exited through a rear door. They were in a limousine with tinted windows. The line of cars followed the hearse out, and then the parade behind them joined. I stayed as far back as I could. I did see Jessica and the girls in one car but none of the boys from school. That didn’t surprise me.

By the time I pulled into the cemetery, the service had begun. I parked as far away from the other vehicles as I could. I watched from a good distance. The crowd of close friends hovered about Bradley, Beverly, and Summer like subjects protecting their royalty, but I was sure the photographers were still able to edge their way close enough to capture them sufficiently for magazine and newspaper front pages.

After the service ended, I stepped back behind a large oak tree to watch people leaving. When the last car pulled away, I stepped out. Two cemetery employees remained to finish. I saw a small backhoe with the driver waiting to operate it. They were talking but stopped when they saw me approaching. Neither said anything. I guess I really surprised them.

I stood on the edge of the grave and looked down at the coffin. I had this sudden vision that was both horrifying and glorious. The lid of the coffin was thrown open, and Ryder sat up, smiling.

“Hey,” he called up to me, “stop looking so sad. Remember, ‘for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so.’ ”

“How is this good?” I asked.

“I’ve escaped. Think of that.”

“But in escaping, you left me, too.”

“You’ll catch up with me later.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said.

“Think nothing of it.”

He smiled and then started to lie back in the coffin and reach up to close the lid.