Southern Fried by Rob Rosen Read Free Book Online Page A

tinged with
    honeysuckle, jasmine, the faint scent of roses.
    We three entered the church, Pearl in the middle. Like the
    lone survivors of a great war, we were. Place was filled to the
    rafters, too, the whole town turning out, people I hadn’t seen
    since I was a child, plus a host of strange faces, most of them
    turning our way as we entered, eyes glued to us.
    “Now I know what Brad Pitt feels like,” I whispered out of
    the side of my mouth.
    Pearl snickered. “Guess that makes me Angelina Jolie.
    Damned if we don’t have the same lips.”
    I stifled a laugh. All things considered, it wouldn’t have been
    appropriate. Ironically, Granny would’ve found it downright
    hilarious. Same thing for the hordes that turned up for her
    34 Rob Rosen
    funeral. Hilarious, since she hated most everyone, tolerating
    them at best. Still, the name Jackson was synonymous with the
    town. Somehow or another, everyone was tied to it, to her, even
    if it was from generations earlier. Still, these people had come
    to pay their respects, despite the fact that they probably couldn’t
    stand her.
    In other words, she would’ve despised this spectacle. Doubly
    so if no one, had in fact, shown up. The paradox of it made
    me smile. And yet, Granny pretty much still won in the end:
    everyone showed up and was miserable all at the same time. Chalk
    one up for Granny. Victorious even in death. I held on to Pearl’s
    hand. She turned and smiled at me. I was pretty sure she was
    thinking the same thing I was. Jeeves, naturally, looked somber
    all the while.
    Though Jeeves pretty much always looked somber. I
    remember seeing pictures of him once at Disney World for a
    family reunion. He was the only one frowning in every picture,
    in the whole park, more than likely. If there was a happiest place
    on earth for Jeeves, it was certainly where there were no other
    people. Or cars to drive. Or doors to answer. Or grannies to
    answer to. I wondered what he’d do now that she was gone.
    Then, all too soon, we found our pew, up front, Granny’s
    coffin only a couple of feet away. Thankfully, it was a closed
    casket. Granny, apparently, had already made her wishes known
    on that one. “Last thing I want is for people to remember me
    looking peaceful,” she apparently told her lawyer. “They wished
    I’d shut up when I living; far be it from me to give them what they
    asked for once I was dead.” Sounded like her, anyway. Besides,
    she was probably worried that someone would swipe the family
    jewels, which Pearl told me where dangling down from her good
    clothes inside that coffin at that very moment. Thankfully, she
    was wearing some of them when she died because the jewelry
    box was still missing. And, man, I sure hoped Gabriel liked pearls
    and platinum because Granny found diamonds far too showy.
    I turned around before the funeral got underway. The rest of
    the staff was scattered about nearby. My eyes roamed down each
    southeRn FRied 35
    of the pews, finally landing on Zeb’s sapphire peepers. He smiled
    and waved when he saw me, my heart fairly skipping a tra la la
    beat. I know, inappropriate in my timing, but I needed the boost
    right about then. And it wasn’t like I popped a boner at Granny’s
    funeral. Mostly.
    Then the organ started and all systems were go. I gulped,
    sweat trickling down my forehead, quickly turning into a torrent.
    Preacher Woods moved to the podium. He’d baptized me,
    married my parents, and now was sending Granny off. I’d always
    hated him. Guy gave me the willies. The way he’d put his hand on
    your shoulder and clamp down. The way he’d whisper in your ear,
    face too close up. Fire and brimstone for the masses, butt plugs
    and nipple rings in his bedroom. Molester for sure. Would’ve put
    money on it. I shuddered at the thought.
    Though the sermon was nice and all: Granny’s favorite Bible
    quotes, stories about her good will, her commitment to the
    community, her tireless work on behalf of the down