NOVEL NEXT Chapter 17: Little Things --- End of Shorties Arc
Event Reminder: June 29th, 2024, 11:00 am. Funeral for Jasson Boar. Video call link Below.
Jasson stared at the notification, nearly identical to so many reminders he swiped away. Potlucks, parties, the type of things that intruded like a social flu of guilt. But now his own funeral stared him in the eyes.
It’s 10:01, Jasson thought. I don’t have to be part of it. But…
“He will be missed.”
Jasson flushed with heat thinking about those sappy words at his death. They barely noticed him for years and suddenly they miss him? Yeah, they’re his family. They’re supposed to. But Jasson couldn’t imagine his family saying a single thing beyond the rote platitudes. Except for Madysyn.
Jasson felt a pain of guilt at the thought of his youngest sibling. Surely he could attend his funeral for her alone. And for mom. Dad would make some jokes that he had to hear. Maybe Lillye would cry a bit.
He had to know.
“Excuse me,” Jasson stood, “I need to take this.”
“Take what?” Petra said, but Jasson didn’t respond. Only looked at his phone as he walked away from the twins.
“Do you need any help?” Clara stood and followed Jasson, but Jasson didn’t hear her.
“I have two bars right now,” Jasson said, “Maybe it will b-”
The signal dropped to one bar. That quickly? Jasson stopped and looked around, wishing he could see these mysterious connection points that he kept walking away from. Why was it that-
Jasson’s eyes fell on Petra, sitting in her chair a good thirty feet away. Clara caught up to Jasson but Jasson kept ignoring her. Jasson took a step towards Petra, and the second bar flickered. Two more steps and it stood solid beside the first, a pillar of signal.
It’s not based off of Petra. Jasson thought. I’ve had a good signal without her. Especially in the guild, where I have max bars. But it’s never as fast as when I’m with these two…
“Clara, could you stand there for a bit?” Jasson said, walking away from her, “I want to test something.”
Jasson walked another thirty feet from Clara and watched as the final bar dropped away only to flicker back with a passing shopper bumping into Jasson.
“It’s my connection.” Jasson breathed, “My connection to them. To people. The better our connection is the further I can go. What was Kami thinking?!”
Jasson walked back towards Clara and pocketed his phone as soon as the bar of signal came back. What to do? He needed to be with someone, but he couldn’t just explain that he needed to attend his funeral. Jasson felt a profound desire not to share this moment with these practical strangers in another world, but he needed someone.
“Clara,” Jasson said, “I…need to go somewhere private. With you. Wi-would you be open to coming?”
“With you?” Clara said, “Where?”
“I can’t say,” Jasson said, “And I can’t explain. Just…will you trust me on this? Take me to wherever I can be alone, and stay with me until I’m ready to leave. No questions. No worries. Don’t tell Petra. Please.”
Clara hesitated, then looked back toward Petra. Jasson’s heart sagged like a bridge of hope. She would go running to her sister and Jasson would never get to know what his family said.
“Sure,” Clara said, turning back to Jasson, “I’ll come with you. Lead the way.”
“Really?” Jasson sighed, “Thank you. Umm…I don’t actually have anywhere in mind. Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh!” Clara tapped her chin for a few seconds then said, “Yeah. I have an idea. You want to be alone right?”
****
“Here it is!” Clara said, showing Jassone the cliff she’d brought him to, “Come check it out.”
Jasson checked the time. It had taken forty minutes to get here from the city, but he still had a few left. Jasson walked up beside Clara and looked out.
“See down there?” Clara pointed to a cave entrance, “That’s the Risen Stars dungeon. It’s where me and Petra usually go to hunt monsters and stuff.”
Jasson watched as a group of adventurers entered the dungeon. Another couple of groups were sitting around a communal fire. There were a couple food carts selling lunches and a river that flowed along the road. The vibe was cozy, despite the presence of monsters within.
“It’s beautiful,” Jasson said, “Stand guard, please. I’m gonna sit back here.”
Jasson found a large tree and nestled amongst the roots and soil, as safely as he could manage. Jasson wished he had a blanket to complete the safe space, but forced himself to move on. To stop procrastinating. Jasson joined the group call.
Saturday the 29th of June, 2024. 10:55 am. Loading.
Doot.
It was only natural that, being dead, Jasson’s video call didn’t allow for video. He was muted as well, leaving him as a ghost on the screen. Unseen, unheard, barely even there.
Jasson was expecting the camera to focus on the podium, transmitting crystal clear video and audio. His Uncle Tomas was the family techie and had a passion for cameras and sound equipment. But that was shrunk and muted as Jasson watched and Aunt Elanor’s shaky five-generation-old feed took center stage.
“Thanks for tuning in everyone,” Aunt Elanor said, “I wanted to give a tour of the photos before we start. David is going to be late as well, so we’ll be starting a few minutes later than usual.”
“Probably crying in the car,” Someone said from the family feed in Idaho. Jasson could hear his Aunt Charlotte scold her kid before another one of his cousins muted the feed.
The table of pictures was filled with a depressing clutter of home-printed soggy paper and professional but outdated photos. The handouts featured Jasson’s Junior year photo in the middle of flowery design, along with the sappy words that announced his lifespan.
Jasson Boar
Beloved Son, he will be missed.
September 1st, 2006 ~ June 24th, 2024
The families on video call expressed their condolences and how loved Jasson had been, just like all those empty posts right after he’d died. Sticky Sweet (™) words that tightened the knot of bitterness in Jasson’s chest. He’d never been close with these cousins, and every time he’d come over they’d be holed up in their rooms. Granted, that’s what Jasson did when they came over but he wasn’t the one commiserating with everyone’s Instaglam tears.
SMH, it was his funeral but Jasson was having a hard time believing that at the moment.
His paternal Grandparents gushed about how handsome Jasson had been and how there was a girl without her soulmate out there now. This was said in the stuttering monologue of their call going in and out as they didn’t realize it and kept going. Grandma and Grandpa didn’t have the best connection at their place but hadn’t learned to recognize when they weren’t being heard, so Jasson pieced their words together in a verbal puzzle.
“Can we see the body?” Jasson’s cousin in Idaho said, “I saw the news article but…”
“It’s a closed casket funeral,” Aunt Elanor said, making her way over, “but here he is.”
It wasn’t elaborate, not that Jasson could tell through the Zoomer call. It was wood and covered in flowers, with what gilt edging there was being hidden behind the pixilated feed. With only his Junior photo on top of the casket and no opening, it was painfully obvious that the morticians considered Jasson beyond help. Considering how he’d died, Jasson found himself wishing that he’d been cremated. It would have been cheaper and implied a lot less than a forced-shut casket. Still, his mother was a stickler for tradition.
“I guess I’m not feeling well,” Jasson said, “I’m having a Coffin fit.”
Jasson could hear his mother crying from the front row, and the little knot of bitterness started to tease out of him. His mother loved him. She was a tired mom who was working all day just to help them through this economy. At least she’d have one less mouth to feed, insurance to pay, and a future to worry about.
Jasson felt his eyes dampen and was glad when someone called off-screen.
Uncle Thomas, Jasson thought. Must be time to start. I guess my dad got here- er- got there.
“Alright,” Aunt Elanor said, “I just wanted them to get a tour. Goodbye, all!”
The view flicked over to the main camera feed and Jasson saw the world from a higher angle in the middle of the chapel. He could see the pulpit, the coffin, and the sad little group huddled in the front row.
A man stood, an empty flagpole without the rippling humor that buoyed him through life. He made his way up to the pulpit and patiently pressed a button. The pulpit raised until it couldn’t go any further, and the man looked at it like it was a personal gallows just for him. He took a breath and leaned forward, pulling the mic down to his slouched lips.
“Hello,” The man said, “Welcome to my son’s funeral. I’m glad everyone could make it- at least in spirit.”
Jasson’s mom burst into tears and his dad flinched, but Jasson couldn’t help but smile in shock. He really did it. David Boar made a joke at his son’s funeral.
“Sorry,” Jasson’s dad said, “I- er…I’ll be speaking first. Followed by my wife, and then our eldest Mykael. Then Lillye and Jass- I mean…”
Jasson’s dad stopped and glanced out to the gathering, then stared back at the microphone like he was in some kind of confessional. Jasson felt his heart beat harder as he waited for his dad to keep going. He’d never seen his father like this, empty exhaustion far beyond that of an overworked man.
“No father should have to hold their child’s funeral,” Dad said, “Especially when they- when I haven’t even hosted his wedding. I wish I could say that he died fulfilled and happy, but I really don’t know. He- I didn’t reach out to him as much as I could. Now I regret every moment I collapsed on the couch rather than spending time with him.”
Jasson whispered to his phone and said “It’s okay. You needed your rest, Dad. I hate when you push yourself too hard for me.”
Dad shifted, seeming to get ahold of himself as he pulled a tear-pasted piece of paper out of his coat pocket. Jasson watched his father unfold the paper, pulled reading glasses out, and coughed as he read over his last words to his son.
“I always wanted a family as big as mine.” Jasson’s dad said, “I was the middle child, and I loved the feeling of so many loving siblings around me. Yeah, I didn’t get much attention. But it was the Eighties. We played outside with our friends and each other and didn’t come back until the streetlights came on. I figured that he’d be okay since I was, and to a degree he was. But I can’t help feeling that I could have stopped this. I could have given him a ride to his job, a ride home from school. Anything to make him not there in that moment. Of everyone that died he was the only one Fate chose to throw under the truck for no reason.”
Jasson sniggered but no one else laughed, and he was glad that he wasn’t there to interrupt. (Literally speaking he was there in mind and body, just not in the same place.)
Jasson’s dad put the paper down and looked out to the audience, saying “The rest of this is an old man’s rambling memories. The first time I took him fishing. That week I played catch with him every day to prepare for Little League. The first time I let go of his bike and he didn’t- didn’t fall. I-um… He- Jasson- was eight when I realized he didn’t know how to ride a bike yet. I learned to ride when I was five, I even took his training wheels off the year before. He used to love biking before I did that. I spent a couple of hours teaching him that night, and he managed to get the hang of it just before we had to go in. I never saw him biking after that, even when he had to walk to work. If only I had taught him earlier, maybe he would have biked right past that accident.”
Jasson’s dad stared into the camera, into Jasson’s eyes, and then up to heaven as he said “I’m not making any sense but… I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention more son. I know you would have hated this, but I’m sorry I didn’t push you harder. Farther. Maybe you would still be biking on your own if I had given you enough momentum to fly.”
Jasson wiped tears from his eyes as he watched his father slump back to the pew beside Mom. There was some talking as Jasson tried to work the lump out of his throat in preparation for his mother, but to his surprise, it was Mykael who made his way up. Mykael, the eldest child, waved to his fiance before stepping up to the pulpit. Jasson felt the bitterness swell and tighten, remembering all the mean little comments that Mykael thought would be wiped away with sweetly worded posts. Mykael gave a cocky smile that cracked as soon as he bent the mic up to his mouth.
“Jasson was the first birth I remember,” Mykael said, meeting the eyes of the audience, “And I always knew that I had to pro- protect-”
Mykael froze and stared down at the pulpit, then looked up and said “Sorry bro.”
Jasson raised an eyebrow. Mykael was apologizing? Someone must have died- right. Jasson kept forgetting about that part.
After a few more moments Mykael bent once more to the mic and said “I prepared a glowing speech about how perfect everything was. I miss him. A lot. More than I thought I could miss anyone. But I imagine that he was screaming at my posts about his death. Hamming it up like we were close when recently… all I used our time for was picking at him for not doing enough with his life. I guess I felt jealous about how much freedom he had.”
Jasson frowned. This wasn’t at all how he’d thought Mykael would talk.
Mykael breathed for another second before saying “I really did- do love my brother. He was my first brother, and I remember when we used to wrestle and fight. Mom said to go easy on him because he’d get stronger than me one day. He never outgrew me, and I’m kinda sad now. I’m still the strong one. I’ve always wondered what would happen if he got stronger. He used to be so passionate about things. I remember the day he came home asking me to go kill a couple punks who beat him in a fight. I still don’t remember what he was fighting over, but I don’t think that he ever trusted me again when I said no. I wish I could have been there to protect him earlier this week. To truly protect him for once in my life. Wherever you are bro, I hope you get stronger. That way we can have one more arm wrestle once I go. Thank you.”
Jasson wiped at his tears and said, “Shut up. I thought you didn’t remember that. And it’s just like you to tell me to get stronger!”
Jasson sniffed and wiped his eyes as Mykael made his way back to the pew. Another huddled whispering and Jasson could see his mother shake her head, then the recognizable figure of Lillye stood and walked to the pulpit. She tapped her foot impatiently as she lowered the pulpit, and finally gave up and took the mic and bent it down to her mouth. Then she went back to the controls and lowered the pulpit enough for her to see the crowd. Jasson rolled his eyes and braced himself. Lillye was the one he wanted to hear from least. She’d whip up some kind of sickening tale spun to make herself look better.
“Mykael was too soft on Jasson,” Lillye said, “I’m suppOsed to name good things about him. HOw much of a blessing he was in my life. He was a little (*&^ that didn’t do anything. Except the dishes. He was good at those, good enough to get a job doing it. Mom doesn’t have the best eyes, so I can say that he dramatically improved the cleanliness of the dishes in our house. No more gunk between the forks or patina on the plates. He was saving up for a new phone before senior year, like a good little drone of capitalism. Of course, I’m going to college in a couple months so it wouldn’t matter to me what he did. He wouldn’t matter to me once I was gone-”
Lillye stopped then, to Jasson’s shock, she wiped her eyes and said “Of course I *^&%* miss him. He’s my little brother. I might be a little self-obsessed, making this all about me. But I swore to make his wedding all about him, not his *&^% funeral-”
Lillye looked up and Jasson could make out tears streaming down the sides of her face. A bolt of numb denial shot through Jasson’s chest and ricocheted in his ribs. Where was the bottle of tears? Did she cut some onions? Was that snot dripping from her nose? Why didn’t she stop crying already?
“They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder,” Lillye said, “But all I’ve been doing this week is looking where he should have been. Doing the dishes. In his spot on the recliner. Keeping me up with his endless TikTik dances. I never got to tell him but…he got kinda good at those. Really good, actually. He was *&^% at camera work and lighting, but…well, I always wanted to dance. It was a dream I had, I even took classes in high school, but I quit after stagnating. I was angry at him for being better than me. I- I wish I could be angry at him again. Now all I am is angry he died with such a bad sister as me. All because I was jealous of him being better at my dream. I’m sorry bro. Wherever you are, I hope you’re chasing something.”
“No &^%,” Jasson sat, processing what his big sister had said, “No *&^% ^%&*. Lillye you- no…”
Jasson felt his tears pour from his eyes as Lillye rushed down and someone nudged the next speaker. Jasson forced himself to look as Allyxander stood, looking around himself as if shocked that everyone didn’t take longer. He stepped forward, then turned back to Mom and said a few things. But the family pushed him out and he made the slow walk to the pulpit.
“Serves you right,” Jasson said, “You never liked talking to people that weren’t your friends.”
“I feel like everything has been said already,” Allyx said, “I guess…he was my big brother but I didn’t feel like it. Mykael was the big brother, and Jasson was just part of the house. Like a light in the corner or the creaking of timbers at night. I…I thought that I was like Lillye. Didn’t really think of Jasson, just let him have his space and ask him to stop dancing in the middle of the night. I guess… I was wrong. Now I feel like- Jasson was never cool, ya know? Not to me. Madysyn loved being with him, but he wasn’t the one with all the older friends.”
Jasson grunted. He could relate to what his brother said, but Allyxander wasn’t going to burst into tears like Lillye. At least Lillye felt something about Jasson, even if it was normally hatred.
Allyx shifted and said “I…I told my friends I wouldn’t cry here. That I’d be mature and let him go but…he was real. He mattered to everyone. He really did. I thought I didn’t care but…the house is emptier now. I keep expecting to run into him while getting a midnight snack or pass him walking home from school. He’s supposed to be here, you know? He was supposed to speak before me as the third child. I guess…I’m the third child now. The second son. There’s four kids in our family, and the fifth is nev- never coming home.”
Allyx choked off and grabbed a tissue from the box on the pulpit, but he hesitated and only dabbed at his eyes.
Jasson raised an eyebrow and said, “Didn’t know I meant so much to you little bro.”
Allyx planted his hands on the pulpit and said “I guess there’s more in a home than just the people you want to spend every moment with. Our world turns and wobbles without his weight, and I don’t know how we’ll recover. But Jasson, if you’re seeing this, I hope you find another home that loves you like I should have. Somewhere where you can belong at the center of things. A home that holds you closer than a group hug and doesn’t push you away. I-I’m sorry for that.”
“Wow,” Jasson said, feeling his exhausted heart stretch a bit further, “Wow. I guess…I guess I did matter to you.”
Allyx walked down but wasn’t halfway back when the final sibling shot to her feet and marched to the pulpit. Jasson prepared himself for seeing the tear-stained face of his favorite sister. She’d be a weeping mess that mumbled into the mic before-
“Jasson was an awesome brother!” Madysyn shouted into the mic, then hauled a step stool out so she could stand over and glare at the crowd. A tiny girl burning with passion. A precious ball of love and acceptance for Jasson.
Jasson let out a guttural sob, his walls breaking as he turned the volume all the way up. He needed to hear them above his crying. He caught Clara move in the corner of his eyes, but when he checked Clara was staring out like she found eternity in the opposite direction.
Jasson looked back at the feed as Madysyn took a bracing breath, “Everyone keeps saying how they failed him, how they regret what they didn’t do. That’s not what we’re here for. We’re here to celebrate the life of Jasson. The life we knew, not the one we wished for. He was a patient, generous, and mindful human being.”
“Ouu,” Jasson groaned, tears blurring the screen
Jasson’s little sister seemed to have relaxed a bit when she said, “Jasson was always there for me. I didn’t need a big brother to fight the world for me, I needed someone to share the world with me. But when I was upset, I always went to Jasson and he’d somehow know what to say. He took the time to share his world with me. The creators he followed, the trends he did. We even recorded some dance videos. I spent so many hours in his room, we watched Skippydatoilette together and theorized on the meanings. We cried together when Techyknife died. Affmeow’s WeTube series was the most focused I’d ever seen him. I- I never got to finish those episodes with him.”
Jasson chuckled, remembering those little moments as he fought back a new wave of tears. Those were some good times.
Madysyn wiped brave tears from her eyes and said “People call it brain rot, but I was always excited to come home and hang out with him to watch it. Maybe not every day, and sometimes I needed my own space, but I love those times. Those memories. I…I haven’t believed in any religion for a while. But there must be a next life, right? So if you're watching this bro, I hope you’re making memories wherever you are. You’re a special guy, and I’m sure that whoever you’re with appreciates your time. Share your world with them, and let them share their world back. Then tell me all about it when I see you again.”
“I will,” Jasson said, nose filled and voice stuffed with a sad whine.
Madysyn hopped off the stool and made her way back to the seats, blowing her nose as she sat by Mom. There was muttering and Uncle Tomas stood, but was cut off as Jasson’s mother pushed herself up. Jasson watched as a misery-hunched woman, the definition of beauty and kindness in his childhood, hobbled toward the pulpit. She pulled the mic up to her lips and took several shuddering breaths before she spoke.
“Jasson was my third angel,” Sarah Boar said, “my third precious baby. Having been raised as an only child, I always wanted a big family. It’s what attracted me to David in the first place. And I wanted my kids to have unique names, but I guess I didn’t do very well at that-”
“Mom, no! You did great!” Jasson gripped his screen, “It’s okay. I’m okay!”
Jasson’s Mom choked back a sob and continued, saying “I wish I could have been a stay-at-home mom. Maybe I would have been able to prevent all this regret I’m hearing about today. But what’s done is done and…and we will have to move on-”
Cries tore through the speakers, tiny tweeters attempting to capture the sound of his mother’s splitting soul. Jasson looked up at Clara, wishing for headphones, but Clara didn’t turn around. Didn’t even react.
It only took a couple pregnant minutes for Jasson’s mom to get ahold of herself, even with Jasson’s Dad having run up to help. The ripping screams fading to guttural sobs like the echoes of thunder. The tissue box ran out, its remnants clutched between Mom’s white knuckles as she once again faced the mic.
“I didn’t think that I could speak today,” Mom said, “But after Madysyn I couldn’t cower away from this. But I have to agree with David. A mother should not need to speak at her son’s funeral. He should have outlived me with a life full of friends and a future he made for himself. I…I don’t know what it’s like on the other side. We talk in church about how it’s heaven, but what else? Can my boy grow over there? Can he make things? Can he get married and know the joy of commitment? I hope so.”
“Me too,” Jasson chuckled, dabbing at his eyes with his soaked shirt.
Mom chuckled and looked at the camera, then said “I know that if he was alive right now, he’d be on the video call. Holed up at home after I tried to get him out here. Camera and mic are off, scrolling through dance videos or something. I miss that now, despite how angry it made me when my parents died. He is the type to miss his own funeral. But wherever you are up in heaven Jasson, keep going. There’s an eternity of future out there for you, go out and seize it. Who you’ve been is not who you’ll always be. You can walk to infinity in baby steps. And when I see you again, I want you to show me what you’ve made like when you were a kid. I’m proud of you son, I love you and-”
Mom looked a bit strange then smiled and said “Stay safe, stay true, and be good to your new friends.”
Jasson watched, stunned as his mother walked back from the podium. The pastor stood and made his way up, but Jasson closed out before he could get there. Why had Mom said that? And why did everyone have to be so much better than he’d ever hoped?
“Thank you, everyone.” Jasson said, feeling the tears roll down his face as he looked up. The blue sky and golden sun shone through emerald leaves, a dappled display of a weeping god raining warmth.
Good enough. Jasson thought as he smiled. Everything is good enough.
Then the sunlight hit his eyes directly and Jasson sneezed.
“Let’s go,” Jasson groaned as he stood, rubbing his nose, “It’s- owowow. Dang leg’s asleep.”
“Are you okay?” Clara was immediately by his side, her dry face contrasted by red eyes. Jasson spotted a handkerchief poking from her dress pocket and smiled. Good friends indeed.
“Better than ever,” Jasson said, standing, “Let’s get moving. We have a village to save.”
****Jasson’s Status****
| Strength | 104
| Agility | 132
| Intelligence | 154
| Wisdom | 100
| Charisma | 97
| Magic | 70
| Stamina | 117
| Luck | 160
End of Shorties Arc