Date: Sat, 7 Jul 2012 09:47:10 -0400 (EDT)
From: Pwrlftrbear@aol.com
Subject: Stepping Into Forever 7

					7

	"Are you sure about this?" I said when we got to the funeral home.
	"Not really," he said with a sad smile and opened the truck door.
	We walked to the door and he paused, taking a deep breath.  The
tension was clear on his face as he walked inside.
	 A few people were standing in the foyer, talking quietly, seeming
to not notice us.  He appeared to know where he was going.  He led the way
into a room filled with chairs and somber people milling around.
	"Why don't you wait here?" he whispered, the strain showing in his
eyes.
	"Are you okay?" I asked softly as I nodded.
	He gave me a brittle smile.
	"This is the same place where my family's was.  And Joe's."
	"Brian," I said, gripping his shoulder.  "You don't have to do
this."
	"Yes, we do," he said with that curious echo he had acquired.
	I slipped into one of the chairs in the back of the room, watching
him stride down the aisle.  About halfway down, he paused, his fists
clenching.  With a slight shudder he continued on.  When he reached the
front of the room he stopped.  A petite lady with a halo of silver curls
looked up, her face lighting up.  She rose to her feet and he dropped to
one knee to embrace her.
	"What the fuck?" I thought.  "She recognizes him, but doesn't seem
to notice anything different!"



	It was hard walking into that place again.  So many painful
memories and more than that.  This time was worse because I was feeling
everyone else's emotions as well.  Wasn't as...difficult when we were
shopping.  The stench of grief hung so heavily in the air I could hardly
believe no one else felt it.
	I guess I understand why Grandpapa lives so far from people.  I did
my best to block it all out.
	Instead, I focused on how I looked in the memory I had shared with
Paul that morning.  I had never been one to spend a lot of time looking in
a mirror, and even if I had been, figured it was better to know how others
saw me.  Grandpapa had hinted at some of the things he thought I might be
able to do.  I just hope this works.
	I left Paul sitting in the back row, his anxiety ringing in my mind
no matter how hard I tried to block it out.
	As I walked down the aisle, I was suddenly struck by a blast of
disgust.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe's cousin, Ken.  He had
spent most of Joe's funeral making snide comments about my relationship
with Joe.  I had to throttle down my rising anger.  Now was not the time to
lose my composure.
	I felt Joe trying to comfort me and I took a deep breath and
continued on.
	I reached the front of the room where she sat, looking forlornly
toward the casket.
	"Mary?" I said softly.
	She turned and looked up at me...well, her eyes rested about level
of my chest.
	"Brian!" she exclaimed.
	It worked.  She was seeing what I wanted her to see.
	She rose to give me a hug and I dropped down onto one knee.  I
might be able to make her see me as I wanted her to, but I'm not sure it
would affect what she felt.
	I expected grief as we touched, but strangely enough, she seemed
more relieved than anything.  Without meaning to, I saw the things her
brother had done to her.
	My anger rose again, and once more I had to thrust it down.  Now
was not the time.
	"I'm so glad you could make it," she said.
	Her arms tightened around me.
	"Have you lost weight?" she asked, pulling back, concern written
across her face.
	"Not really," I said, swallowing a chuckle.  "Actually, I've been
putting a lot of weight in the last few months."
	"Is everything okay?" she asked.  "I called the house and the
gentleman answering the phone said you weren't there."
	"Yeah.  Business has kept me out of town for the last couple of
months.  Got some friends to stay there and take care of things for me so
it's lived in."
	"When will you be back?" she asked.
	"I'm not sure I will be," I said softly.  "It's time."
	"Past time," she said, touching my cheek.  "He loved you so much."
	"I know," I said with a smile.  "And now I'm able to remember how
lucky I was for what time we had.  He will always be with me."
	She hugged me tightly.
	"Good-bye, Mary," Joe whispered in her ear.
	She tensed and pulled back.
	I smiled down at her.
	"Take care of yourself," she said at last and I kissed her
forehead.
	I rose and strode toward the exit, then paused by where Ken sat,
his sneer plastered across his face.  It was reckless, but at that point I
didn't care.  I reached into his mind and ripped out his most intimate of
secrets.
	"I hear Tina had her baby.  Congratulations," I said to him
innocently.  "Why didn't you bring her with?"
	His face went white while his wife, Melissa, turned an angry glare
towards him.
	"How's that glass house?" I growled and stalked out of the room.



	"What happened back there?" I asked as we headed back to the
house...Mike and Cliff's, that is.
	He had been walking up the aisle when he stopped the talk to
someone.  When he had turned back, his face was a frozen snarl.  The couple
he spoke to began arguing, the man trying to shush her.
	By the time I got up, he was out the door.  He was already in the
truck, eyes closed, hands pressed against his temples.
	"Which thing?" he asked, giving me a pained smile.
	"Are you okay?"
	"Yeah...no...I don't know.  Got a killer headache," he said.
"Do...do you remember the night we met?"
	"How could I forget?" I said with a sly grin.
	"Did you notice anything...odd about how everyone else...interacted
with me?"
	"Or how they didn't interact with you?" I said as he nodded.  "I
had noticed it, but didn't really think anything of it until Grandpapa
asked about it."
	"I think that without even knowing it, I was...making everyone else
ignore me."
	"So how come I didn't?" I asked.
	"Dunno.  Maybe because you have senses than I couldn't begin to
know.  Maybe it was because I wanted you to notice me."
	I reached over and rubbed his leg.
	"Well, if I could do that subconsciously, I thought I might be able
to make everyone see me as I wanted them to."
	"So that's why no one noticed the changes in you."
	He nodded and winced.
	"Seems to take more out of me, though.  My head is splitting."
	"My poor cubby," I cooed.  "But what about that guy?"
	"Ken," he snarled.  "Joe's cousin.  Used Joe's funeral as a
platform for his homophobia.  I... picked up a tidbit about his mistress
and I threw it in his face."
	"Let me guess.  That was his wife there with him."
	"Yep," he said with a wicked grin.
	"Damn, you can be brutal.  Remind me not to piss you off."
	"Hopefully, won't need to.  Just take me home."