red-carpeted church aisle hundreds of times. He'd walked it for communion and on Youth Sunday when it was his turn to take the offering and when the youth group put on the annual Christmas pageant. Last year, he 'd been Joseph and Katie had played the part of Mary and all of the adults had remarked how cute they looked together. Timmy had thought he might die of embarrassment, and die all over again when Katie squeezed his hand while they took their bow as the parishioners applauded. He knew the aisle like he knew the cemetery outside, but the aisle had never seemed longer or more crowded than it did at that moment. The heat was cloying, made worse by the crowd, and his suit felt like it was stuck to his skin. The air was a mixture of cologne and perfume and candle smoke. He pushed his way through and emerged at the front.
He stood in front of the coffin, looked down at his grandfather's corpse, and did his best not to cry. It was even worse up close.
Timmy closed his eyes, trying in vain to get rid of the image. The thing in the casket even smelled different. His grandfather had always smelled like Old Spice aftershave. This still figure had no smell. He opened his eyes again and glanced at the corpse's hands, folded neatly across its chest. His grandfather's skin had always felt rough and warm his hands deeply callused from years of hard labor. He wondered how they'd feel now. Shuddering, Timmy took a deep breath and held it. His ears rang, a high-pitched, constant tone, and his mouth felt dry. His heart thudded in his chest. He let the air out of his lungs with a sigh.
His mother put her arm around him and kissed his head. She smelled of lilac soap and hairspray.
“You okay, sweetie?”
He nodded.
“They did a real good job. It looks like Grandpa's just sleeping, doesn't it?”
Timmy wanted to scream at her. No, it did not look like Grandpa was sleeping. It looked nothing like that at all. In fact, it didn't even look like Grandpa.
At twelve, Timmy was well aware of the fallacies adults sometimes used. “Do as I say, not as I do” was a big one. Many times, he'd overheard Mr. Smeltzer promising Barry that he'd tan his hide should he ever catch Barry and his friends drinking or smoking cigarettes, yet Clark Smeltzer started and ended each day drunk as a skunk and smoked two and a half packs before nightfall.
“It's for your own good” was another. When he was younger, Timmy used to believe that he had an invisible accomplice named U'rown Goode who only his parents could see. Timmy had once shot a dove with his BB gun, and his father had grounded him and confiscated the weapon as a result (shooting doves without a license was illegal in the state of Pennsylvania).
Two days later, his father had left to go deer hunting in Potter County. He'd returned home bragging about how he'd shot three deer, one over the legal limit, and had given the third to a friend.
Why was Timmy grounded for shooting the dove without a license while his father had basically done the same thing? It was for U'rown Goode. Had his invisible friend actually fired the fatal shot?
Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny were adult fallacies, as well.
Grown-ups encouraged their kids to believe in them, only to yank the wool from their eyes and chuckle over the joke when they got older, killing whatever belief in magic the child still clung to. Killing their innocence. Sometimes, Timmy wondered if maybe God was just another fallacy, too. After all, his parents insisted that He was real, just like Santa Claus. Both of them lived at the top of the world and kept track of everybody, judging the populace on whether or not they 'd been good or bad. The only Santa Timmy had ever seen was at the North Hanover Mall, and that guy was a phony. The only God he'd ever seen was the one that hung from the cross at the front of the church. He'd never seen God, but was expected to believe in Him just the same. As he got older, would they tell
He stood in front of the coffin, looked down at his grandfather's corpse, and did his best not to cry. It was even worse up close.
Timmy closed his eyes, trying in vain to get rid of the image. The thing in the casket even smelled different. His grandfather had always smelled like Old Spice aftershave. This still figure had no smell. He opened his eyes again and glanced at the corpse's hands, folded neatly across its chest. His grandfather's skin had always felt rough and warm his hands deeply callused from years of hard labor. He wondered how they'd feel now. Shuddering, Timmy took a deep breath and held it. His ears rang, a high-pitched, constant tone, and his mouth felt dry. His heart thudded in his chest. He let the air out of his lungs with a sigh.
His mother put her arm around him and kissed his head. She smelled of lilac soap and hairspray.
“You okay, sweetie?”
He nodded.
“They did a real good job. It looks like Grandpa's just sleeping, doesn't it?”
Timmy wanted to scream at her. No, it did not look like Grandpa was sleeping. It looked nothing like that at all. In fact, it didn't even look like Grandpa.
At twelve, Timmy was well aware of the fallacies adults sometimes used. “Do as I say, not as I do” was a big one. Many times, he'd overheard Mr. Smeltzer promising Barry that he'd tan his hide should he ever catch Barry and his friends drinking or smoking cigarettes, yet Clark Smeltzer started and ended each day drunk as a skunk and smoked two and a half packs before nightfall.
“It's for your own good” was another. When he was younger, Timmy used to believe that he had an invisible accomplice named U'rown Goode who only his parents could see. Timmy had once shot a dove with his BB gun, and his father had grounded him and confiscated the weapon as a result (shooting doves without a license was illegal in the state of Pennsylvania).
Two days later, his father had left to go deer hunting in Potter County. He'd returned home bragging about how he'd shot three deer, one over the legal limit, and had given the third to a friend.
Why was Timmy grounded for shooting the dove without a license while his father had basically done the same thing? It was for U'rown Goode. Had his invisible friend actually fired the fatal shot?
Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny were adult fallacies, as well.
Grown-ups encouraged their kids to believe in them, only to yank the wool from their eyes and chuckle over the joke when they got older, killing whatever belief in magic the child still clung to. Killing their innocence. Sometimes, Timmy wondered if maybe God was just another fallacy, too. After all, his parents insisted that He was real, just like Santa Claus. Both of them lived at the top of the world and kept track of everybody, judging the populace on whether or not they 'd been good or bad. The only Santa Timmy had ever seen was at the North Hanover Mall, and that guy was a phony. The only God he'd ever seen was the one that hung from the cross at the front of the church. He'd never seen God, but was expected to believe in Him just the same. As he got older, would they tell
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