Who's Really in the Casket?

“Has anyone seen Paula?”

“It’s a closed casket, ma’am,” someone responded.

“I know,” said Jane. “I mean before. When was the last time anyone saw her?” The small group gathered for the wake, which had been reported to be a private viewing, discussed this topic amongst themselves. Paula had left to travel for her gap year three years ago. She wanted to ski at places around the world. Occasionally, she would flit through town to visit but was always on her way to somewhere else. The odd thing is that she grew up and foster care and had no money. Gap years were for rich kids, not kids who aged out of the system.

“She was in town 6 months ago,” Clive announced. He was her friend in high school. The kind that had unrequited love and never stopped carrying a torch though there was never a reason to keep it alight.

“That sounds right,” Amber confirmed. “I remember because we got into an argument.” Amber also had unrequited love–for Clive. She had always resented Paula for receiving the adoration she so desperately wanted and rebuking it instead of appreciating it.

“To be honest,” Clive admitted, “We fought too.” Paula had ended their friendship because she felt being friends with someone who consistently crossed your boundaries was draining, and Clive took every opportunity to beg for a chance to be a couple despite Paula firmly demanding him to stop because it made her uncomfortable. Usually, she would shut down all communication when he brought the subject up, either by leaving the room if they were speaking in person or hanging up if they were talking on the phone. Clive just knew if they went on one date, Paula would realize she was in love with him too and felt love was something you should pursue at all costs. Love is something to fight for.

“You keep disrespecting my boundaries, Clive,” Paula had told him the last time she saw him. “Friends don’t do that. I will no longer remain in contact with you. Accept that we are no longer in each others’ lives.” She blocked him on everything and even got a new number.

In reaction, Clive had gotten violent. Not with any person though–he punched walls and hit things with his bat and broke many of his mom’s dishes. She ended up taking him to a rage room and paid for him to get it out of his system. He did for the moment. The rage never left. His mom probably should have followed up with a psychiatrist. Her intentions were good at least. His dad kicked him out of the house for all of the destruction he had left. He was 20 with no degree, trade, or real job experience because he had never lasted at a job more than a few months because he felt minimum wage jobs were beneath him. His grandma took him in.

Shortly before unfriending Clive, Amber had unleashed a torrent of built-up resentment on Paula for her treatment of Clive.

“What about his treatment of me?” Paula asked the person she thought was her friend. “Despite repeated and consistent requests for him to stop trying to make our relationship sexual, he still sends me dick pics. I’ve had enough. He doesn’t love me because he doesn’t respect me.” Amber didn’t take the news well. She had repeatedly asked for such pics and assumed Clive was just shy because he never sent any. She felt betrayed by them both.

“He treats you like a queen though you don’t deserve it. There’s nothing special about you that makes you better than me. You’re just some orphan your fake aunt took in when the state no longer wanted you,” Amber yelled in frustration.

“Wow,” Paula responded. “You’re worse than Clive.” She then blocked her on everything and headed to Clive’s parents’ house to end things with him.

She had ended things with “Aunt” Jane long before. She was once her biological father’s step-cousin before that marriage ended. However, she was the closest relative the state could find that would claim her and take her in when she turned 18. They had never met before. But once Paula had moved in the last few months of her senior year, Jane had realized how alone she had been. She had been living a life full of anxiety and depression in the house she inherited from her grandmother and living on disability checks. Over time she had left the house less and less and hadn’t realized how isolated she had become. Taking Paula in had saved her, and then Paula left. She sent postcards and called and texted from time to time, but it wasn’t the same. Despite this, she never tried to talk Paula from leaving. However, she expected after a year she would return to live with her as she attended college. There was a community college in their town and a state college a commutable drive away. As a former foster child, her tuition would be paid for.

Initially, Jane was glad she was gone. Two women had gone missing in the area about six months apart, and she feared there was a serial killer. She was a worrier though and tended to make problems out of nothing. However, nothing had been further reported about those women. She assumed they were long dead.

“I need you to keep your location on!” Jane had pleaded with Paula at that last visit six months ago. She had responded that she just didn’t see the need. She was a free spirit who needed to roam.

“Then call me every day,” she begged. Paula explained that she just couldn’t make that commitment. First of all, she was often in very different time zones. Second, a commitment like that interfered with her free spirit aesthetic. She said she would attempt a weekly message.

“There are serial killers everywhere,” Aunt Jane insisted.

“Then I’ll avoid them,” Paula responded, glibly. “You can live your life worrying. Come with me on this trip.”

“I don’t have a passport,” Jane explained.

“Oh, Auntie,” Paula scolded. “I told you to long ago.”

“Stay and help me get one,” she cried.

“Some things you just have to do yourself. I can change my plans. Let’s go to New Mexico for a couple of months. There are so many things I can show you. Have you ever been to Arizona? We can go there too!” Paula offered.

“What about my cats?” Jane said. “We can’t just leave them.”

“We can take them!” Paula exclaimed. “I’ll get an RV! It’ll be so much fun!”

“They will hate to travel,” Jane explained. “They hate riding in the car.”

“They just need time to get used to it,” Paula suggested. “Or I can hire a cat sitter to stay with them while we’re gone.”

“No,” Jane responded. “No, I just can’t leave them.” She had regretted it every day since. Jane pictured herself and her three cats riding in the RV. There would be cat hammocks in the windows so the cats could look out. She vowed to take her up on that offer the next time Paula came to town. But she never saw her again, and the phone calls and texts became less and less.

“Aunt Jane, you know I love you, but these guilt trips you use to try to manipulate me make me feel uncomfortable. It makes me not want to visit or call.”

“Paula, how can you say that,” Jane responded into the phone. “I’m lonely, and miserable here and you just left me.”

“You didn’t want to leave with me,” Paula reminded her aunt.

“You gave up too easily,” Jane replied. “You should’ve convinced me. I was just feeling doubtful. Why didn’t you just go get that RV and load us up?”

“Jane,” she said. “I can’t do this right now. I know when I call that you are going to try to make me feel bad, and as a result, the thought of talking to you makes me feel nauseated. It gets harder and harder to bring myself to do so. I love you, but you need to work on your independence instead of trying to make me feel guilty. I need a break. One day I’ll surprise you and pop in, but it won’t be anytime soon.” Jane hung up and got yet another new phone number. It was a tough decision, but she didn’t grow up in a family where manipulation and guilt trips were normal, so she wasn’t indoctrinated into it. She grew up without a family at all.

Now, all these weeks later, she was skiing in the Alps. She was unaware of her funeral at home.