Bette Porter L Word Tomb Raider
St Paul’s Episcopal Church – Bette
Filing out with the other mourners, and into the parking lot after Dana’s funeral service, I get that Republicans in Orange County are a different species. I realize that a hundred years of evolutionary science has proven that diversity is the key to any species’ survival. I am not an against the grain theoretical nitwit.
But what I am is solidly convinced of the following –
Number One: There was no soul inside the walls of that church just now, and Dana’s soul certainly wasn’t there at all. She had kept herself safe from that at least. But as her friends we came out here – to the deepest red of Orange County – for whatever it was worth. I feel robbed. There was no healing, no closure, no coming together during the hymns and psalms. I feel sick that she’s gone, and angry.
I get that not everyone would pick a bar for their father’s memorial. Granted, it made sense to me and Kit, but could these people – and the hideous red brick building behind me – possibly be anymore soulless and sterile? Irritated beyond belief I watch, as couple after couple in search of tomato aspic, golf tees, and tedium drive away in their Lincolns and Cadillacs. But Alice’s impromptu from the back of the church? That had made me happy. Our team had tried to bring some truth to the minister’s misguided eulogy.
Number Two: Tina’s new community of white, straight, coupled-up, customized and galvanized for shiny reflections back unto itself, bullshit sours my mood hourly. I think about Angelica growing up in it, and after this godforsaken funeral – I’d like to burn something down. Like Henry’s house, as an example, with him in it. Then, I stop.
Why is Alice raiding the parking lot garbage can for a Starbucks cup and lid?
“Alice did you drop something in there? Can I help you?” Alice, I need to pay attention to for the next several weeks. My meltdown time is over, it’s someone else’s turn now.
“Come here. Come inside. I need you to stand guard.” Alice presses the sticky cup against me, and pulls me toward the back door of the church.