Death was popular this spring. Women sacrificed lives for children. Men succumbed to inner demons, some to passions. And for a few hours the town came together to cry, to hug, to reflect and look inside. Audrey Rose liked the simplicity of funerals. At funerals every realized a common bond. No one person was all that different from another. They all felt pain. Closeness extended beyond words to touch, to a look that cupped a heart or a shoulder that held a head. Fingers were bathed in tears which nourished the earth. The loss of a person brought back memories, good and bad, but for a day, the person who was gone could finally feel the love the world had for them.

Audrey Rose rubbed the goose bumps on her shoulders. This was the first funeral she had been to since she married Mitch. Even though the marriage was for his citizenship, he was becoming more than a husband, he was becoming a friend. They had fallen into a comfortable pattern – Audrey Rose made lunches for him filled with chocolate, mini-cokes and two pieces of bread with something stuffed between them. Mitch was gone by 8:00am and didn’t come home till at least 6:00pm, working in a world with fluorescent lights and large salaries. At night, if Audrey Rose was home, they drank wine and wandered barefoot under the stars sharing endless words.

Today, the town stopped. Everyone was remembering Bailey, a girl whose lack of fear led her up rocks and mountains. It was El Capt that finally took her, at only 22, frozen to death in a storm. She was still climbing when she died, fingers holding onto the rock. Sky above her, ground below, Bailey somewhere in the middle. Bailey was one of the few people no one could say anything bad about. At the funeral Audrey Rose caught wisps of conversations.

“…she had no idea who I was, but she gave me a shit ton of beer and helped carry in every last box I had.”

“She was an angel.”

“It’s not fair.”

“At least she died doing what she loved.”

“…too young.”

Mitch squeezed Audrey Rose’s hand. Her body felt heavy. Everything around her moved slowly, so slowly. People talked, ate and drank.

“Do you think they’ll bury or cremate her?” Mitch asked.

“I don’t know, but I’d rather be buried, soil packed heavily on top of me like a blanket, close to the heartbeat of the earth. Worms tickling me and maybe someday an aspen rising through my heart.”

“So you don’t want a coffin?”

“Nope. Dig a hole, drop me in and give me a book or two to read.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Ask the Dust and Stones of Summer. That should keep me for a while. Oh, and a couple of Tennessee William’s plays. What about you?”

Betsy interrupted them. “How are you doing?” she asked.

“Okay,” Audrey Rose and Mitch answered. “Are you okay?”

Betsy burst into tears which brought about more hugs and more tears and more wine and more tears. Betsy headed on.

“You never answered. What about your body?”

“I haven’t given it a whole lot of thought,” said Mitch.

“Seriously? Cause you’ll be dead longer than you’ll be alive. A lot longer.”

“Easy there. I guess I’d want to be cremated. Let the wind carry me in every direction.”

“But you won’t be whole,” said Audrey Rose.

“As soon as the first worm goes in, you won’t be whole either.”

Audrey Rose laughed and got a few stares. “I see the body like a secret. Here, write a secret, something no one knows on this napkin.”

Mitch does and Audrey Rose places it on a table.

“Now everyone can see. If you bury it, like this, it’s safe. It will seep into the earth, nourish it and something new will grow from your secret.”

“Ashes fertilize,” said Mitch.

“But not in specks,” said Audrey Rose. “You might blow into someone’s eye.”

Audrey Rose twirled around, trying to imagine being separated into thousands of ashes, the wind carrying her here and there, never knowing when she might be able to rest. People glared solemnly, a couple smiled.

“It’s okay,” Audrey Rose said. “Bailey loved debates.” Audrey Rose curtsied to them. “You might end up in someone’s belly, an ash in their intestines.”

“A desperate camper might dig you up looking for their morning’s relief,” said Mitch.

“Gross.”

“Besides, if I’m ashes, I can fly. You will always be confined.”

“Protected,” said Audrey Rose.

“Semantics.”

“I guess we can agree to disagree, but whatever Bailey chose, I hope her climb to peace is a 5.14a.”

The energy that filled the air that day permeated people. Some were inspired to take adventures they had been putting off. Another stopped smoking. A girl of six put on a harness, felt the rock under her fingers, found a hold and lifted off the ground.