Morgan Ann Bennett

"—Maybe there's a God above; but, all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you? And it's not a cry, that you hear at night, it's not somebody, who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah..."

I tuned back into the service after having had my gaze lost on the stained glass windows for quite some time that it escaped me.

My mind was blank. There were no thoughts, no emotion, no reaction.

"Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah," the singer performed the last bit of the Jeff Buckley song. I used to like hearing it in the movie Shrek - the rendition I preferred. I learned every word and would even sing it around the house at random times for years.

I never want to hear it again. That word doesn't even sound right anymore.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid," Jasmine's pastor, Reverend Clarke, spoke.

I laughed. Everyone around looked at me.

I kept my head down and sniffled.

"This is such bullshit," I mumbled.

"Morgan..." Chris whispered, squeezing my hand to get me to be quiet. Be respectful.

Callie didn't even belong to a church, neither of us really believed in religion. So it was bullshit that this conman of a "preacher" got up there and "preached" about how good of a person my sister was and how Quinn's life was taken far too soon. Only one of those things were true.

"Now, we ask that if anyone under the sound of my voice has anything on their hearts they want to get off, to come up and speak." Clarke announced, stepping away from the stand.

I looked around at all the grieving faces. Bullshit. All of this.

No one cared about Callie this much when she was alive. It even shocked me so many people came to give their condolences.

My parents sat behind me, my mother crying on her husband's shoulder. She kept a tissue in one hand, never having to worry about running out because the ushers made sure that a box of them stayed near her.

My father had on dark sunglasses which would've been okay if the sun was out but this was one, dark, gloomy November day. He had the right idea with the shades but I knew there was emotion pouring from his usually jaded eyes.

I listened to the people's cries and sniffles, wondering what they were even doing here. Who were these people?

My eyes recognized the citizens of Penshaw but I hated that they shed tears over this when no one was ever the kindest to Callie at the best of times.

I felt guilt.

This is what she meant: no one appreciates her.

Well, now they do, because that's what people do when you die, they gather around and act like you were fucking Mother Theresa for two hours and put you in the ground so they can move on with their lives. Callie and Quinn don't get to move on with theirs.

Jesse sat opposite of my mother, sobbing with her as Sherry stood to speak first.

She was in all black for the occasion, of course, and addressed the crowd.

"I know this isn't easy for the Bennett family, nor for the town of Penshaw that has been touched by the light of Callie and her little girl Quinn. It's not everyday that we part with someone so young, so full of life. I had the pleasure of working with Callie and getting to know her heart. She could make you want to slap her but feel bad at the same time. That Quinn, though, I think the city adopted her on day one. They'll be missed," she concluded.

I swallowed hard. That was nice of her, almost too nice about Callie, she hated her.

Mary went next and said, "Nobody knew that one day in May, a brave girl named Morgan would set out here and make this place her home, bringing two beautiful people with her. Penshaw wasn't ready for their newest mascot: the princess that was Little Quinn. But, to be thankful for her, we must also remember the spirit that was Callie. I ask that moving forward, we all take our mental health a bit more serious, and remind our loved ones just how much they mean to us."

Mary sniffled and then continued. "Red Sage won't be the same without those little giggles coming from the backyard or the pitter-patter of her footsteps running throughout the hallways. She kept us young, that's for sure. My heart is with the Bennett family at this time."

I shut my eyes and just listened as more and more people got up to talk about how great Quinn was and the fact that Callie was just her mother.

Jesse squeezed my shoulder as he rose from the pew to go up and give his speech.

Chris replaced Jesse's hand with his own and rubbed my arm.

My eyes followed Jesse to the pulpit. He was clean for once, dark blonde long hair slicked back with entirely too much grease, but clean-ish. His fingernails were still dirty, but one step at a time, I guess. Who had time for self-care with all of this going on? I know I barely did, but if I didn't take the time at least once a day to shower anymore and slap on some products, I would've gone completely mad.

"H-hi, everyone. I'm Jesse for those of you who don't know me," he spoke into the mic meekly.

Like usual, he was a bit weird, fidgety.

"Uh, I had a whole paper written but times like this, you just speak from the heart, right? My heart says I'm devastated. Completely torn up that my future wife and child were taken from me. I never lost anyone so close to me before so you'll have to forgive me if I— if I can't get through this. I hadn't known Callie that long but it seems like a lifetime, all that we been through. She was a special girl, with a special mind, had an interesting outlook on life. Some people would call her crazy, dramatic. I say she's passionate."

His eyes shot right to me and I glared back.

"She didn't want much from life, just a man to love her. I did that.But you know what else she wanted? Just a 'thank you' - for her family to acknowledge how far she's come and reward her for it. Her life wasn't always easy yet she managed to be a ray of sunshine in mine. Morgan, she told me you already knew it but she's sorry. For everything. I know her dying wish would be for you to forgive her once and for all. Thank you everybody."

No one clapped. The choir just quietly hummed as they waited for anyone else to say a few words.

Jesse avoided eye contact with me as he took the seat behind my back.

My blood boiled as he was consoled by my parents. The fuck did any of them know about Callie, what she was really like?

Just as Pastor Clarke stood and separated his thick lips, I brought myself to my feet.

I smoothed out my black velvet midi dress. The flared ends of the long sleeves were soaked with the tears I so quickly brushed off of my bare face.

I didn't wear glasses because I didn't care about crying or anyone seeing me cry. I wiped the tears away because I felt guilt.
With all that Callie had put me through especially in the last week, saying she hated me, I almost shared the feeling. So why then would I be standing here today with sorrow?

"Morgan, you don't have to say anything," my mother whispered to me. The way she said it, with the scared look in her eyes, I knew she wanted me to stay seated before saying anything that would make people uneasy. That's exactly why I did it.

"I'm Morgan, Callie's younger sister. If you don't know that, you probably shouldn't be here. From the looks of it, a lot of you shouldn't be here because if you knew the real Callie, there would be a lot more dry eyes in the building."

"Morgan!" My mother yelped, being held back by my father and Jesse.

I briefly let my eyes fall on her in the second row before continuing.

"Speak from the heart, right, Jesse? Okay, well, let me just say what we're all thinking: I'm surprised she didn't kill herself. I mean, isn't it ironic? Suicidal her whole life, but dies from a car accident. I know it was an accident because as much grief as I give my sister, I know she'd never do that. Especially not with Quinn. That's what I've been trying to tell myself. The last time I saw Callie, she was smiling - hopeful. Said it was the best she's felt in a long time. And this smile wasn't forced, just to get me off of her case, no. I think that's why this is so hard to fathom. Once in her sad life she was finally happy, things going her way, and then it just... stops. I'd speak on Quinn but that would take too long and we've been here for two hours already, reciting bible scriptures and looking at slideshows, and frankly, it's really pathetic."

I sniffled and blinked, taking a pause. "My love for Quinn runs deeper than anything you could even start to imagine and I'll miss her forever. Nothing can take this back or fill the void. I think a part of me died with them." I said low and all in one breath.

"If Callie's dying wish was for me to forgive her, then I forgive her. She's my sister and that won't change; it never has, and trust me, there's been times I wished she wasn't. I have no tears today because, well, I feel like she left me on this Earth long time ago. I don't have anything else to say, just stop with the Bible verses. I don't care what any of you say about him wanting one of his angels back, if God was real he wouldn't have taken Quinn away from me."

I ignored everyone's baffled stares as I stormed out of the church to go get some air.

*

In memory of
Caleen Rae Bennett
&
Quinlann Mae Palmer

I pitied myself for glueing my eyes to the frame of Quinn.
She really stole my face and got away with it.

Some men had dug two holes right beside each other on top of a hill in Penshaw.

I watched my mother and father be escorted to a couple of chairs under a tent with the caskets feet in front of them as everyone else gathered around.

"Oh!" My mother cried out, collapsing into my father's arms.

"Why?! WHY?!" She screamed, falling onto Callie's body over the open casket.

This was the most I'd seen this woman emote and while it was refreshing, the feeling was also heartbreaking when you realized she cared almost two decades too late.

Chris helped me to the front of the tent and I prepared myself to lay eyes on Callie and Quinn for the last time in person.

I didn't think I'd break down the way I did because I knew what they looked like already - like each other.

But my chest inflated and I swallowed hard, becoming weak in the knees the closer I got.

Yup, looked like them.

Two big, blue-green eyes. Straight noses and heart-shaped lips.

But that wasn't the Quinn I knew, her face could never be that cold. That pale. That lifeless.

All her fingers were there, and toes. Everything was whole, she was perfectly in tact and that was scary because she just looked like she was sleeping and I wanted so badly to wake her up.

I'd seen Callie overdosed and passed out so many times she almost looked like she was in her natural state, like she belonged like that.

I gazed down at her and held her hand for a second.

"I love you," I whispered in her ear.

My lips pecked her cheek then I willed myself to Quinn's casket.

They shouldn't even make caskets that size, I thought in my head.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember her alive, talking and bouncing around.

"I can't see her like this." I sniffled, pushing off of the casket.

Chris grabbed my arm and held my back, walking me to a seat for the service to proceed.

***

"—Hey, Teddy. I've been texting you like crazy. This is, like, my fourth time trying you. Sorry I missed your call before, I'm sure you heard what happened." I sniffled, staring out of the window at the clouded sky.

"Chris is trying, but I don't know, I really need a big, bear hug right now. Aheh. Maybe you're mad at me because you didn't want to keep getting involved with the Malcolm-me-Chris stuff, so I'm sorry, but I really could use you right now. You usually have some pretty good advice. Chris said you're like Chef from South Park, ahah. Everyone keeps talking about God, how 'the Lord giveth and he taketh away.' I wish you were here to hit them with the facts, tell them their God isn't real. There's no white man on a cloud in a silky robe determining who makes it passed the gates, or not. I hate him. I hate everyone who's said that to me today. Damn, that was a lot, I'm sorry. Well, um, I have to go, so please call me when you can. Please. Bye."

***

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I woke up to the sounds of knuckles against the door. 

People talk about ghosts and not wanting to sleep where their deceased loves ones used to, but I didn't mind it. It made me feel closer to them.

Everything in the room was a memory.

I remembered when Callie and Quinn first moved into that master suite at Red Sage Bed and Breakfast - how excited Callie was for a bigger bed. The way Quinn used to jump on the bed. The little things.

"Want something to drink, sweetie? Food? Anything?" Mary asked me.

I shook my head, sitting on the edge of the mattress, staring down at my feet in the black stockings.

"Okay, love. Just come down when you get your appetite back, everyone's here for you."

Understood, but I couldn't bring myself to say any words.

After the door closed properly, I lifted myself from the bed and walked around the room.

I was told to gather their things, make a pile of what to keep and donate.

The hard part was that I wanted to keep everything. How could I part with anything of hers? Quinn's favorite toys that I bought for her? Or Callie's best dresses, the ones I used to always compliment her in?

I dropped to my knees, spotting a variety of Quinn's clothes and shoes in a bottom drawer.

At the service they said something good would come out of this, that this was just a beginning. What the hell could come out of this that's good?

I don't think I agreed with anything anyone said except myself. The fact is they're dead and have been buried under the ground and there's no way they'll come back. All I have of them is their memory.

"Hey, sweetie," my mother's soft voice crept in.

I didn't say anything.

She met me on the floor and offered a box labeled "keep."

"If you have a girl you can-"

"No, Mom," I barked immediately.

"It was just a thought." She sighed, going through the clothes.

"I know how much she meant to you. I wish I could've known her in that way, been there for her earlier."

I just looked at her plainly.

We dug through the pile of Quinn's belongings in silence for some time before my father walked inside.

"Morgan, are you going to eat anything?" He asked.

"I don't want to eat," I grumbled, pushing the hair behind my ears.

"Well Chris thinks you should," he said, holding the door open. "for the baby."

I released the tension in my jaw and stood with a hesitation.

I chuckled, walking towards the door. "The baby."

My head at that shook as I exited the room.

I went on to have some fruit and three meatballs with a roll, something small. I wasn't in the mood to eat, that was obvious, but since I was carrying a human, I couldn't be selfish.

This had to be the longest day ever. Even when the sky rolled over into the night, it felt like forever until everyone retired to their own homes.

Most people like having a repast, saying this is a time for everyone to come together, but I just wanted to be alone.

I was shocked that after how she acted so distraught at the funeral, my mother was laughing and carrying on at Mary and Carter's bed and breakfast.

Everyone kept coming to me telling me how sorry they were, that they're there if I need anything. I appreciated it but could only nod and wave, if that sometimes.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted," one of the old fisherman from Black Elk café recited a scripture to me, patting the top of my hand as he held them.

Seeing me coldly peer at him through my naked eyelashes, Larry's face fell from a warm smile. He dropped my hands and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry," he said, walking off.

What am I supposed to say to that? "Thanks?" "Me too?" So I didn't say anything.

Everyone was just talking.

"Honey, I know this is hard but this should be a celebration of life. Look, it brought us closer." My mother tried to make the best of this.

I pushed the plate away from me at the table and blinked.

"I just can't bring myself to smile right now," I replied solemnly.

"And that's fine," my father said, rubbing my back.

He smiled at my mother and then walked around my chair to give her a squeeze.

"I know this isn't ideal, but I'm happy we're here, getting this chance to reconnect."

I nodded, forking the last meatball that I couldn't bring myself to finish.

"And we're going to be here for you, and our grandchild," Mom added, palming my cheek.

"Come on, honey, let's give her some space," Dad said lowly, trailing off.

"Try not to let this get the best of you," my mother proclaimed. "I promise something good will come out of this. After death, there's life. I'd start thinking about baby names, everyone could use some good news."