Cold ethereal light filled the small parish church to the
rafters, spilling from its windows. Two morose figures clad in customary black
occupied the front pew. A middle aged gentleman, whose brown hair had begun to
turn prematurely grey; standing next to him a younger carbon version of
himself.
“Eternal rest grant unto them, O
Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful
departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen,” intoned Rev. Amos
Cabot from his perch at the pulpit, his voice ringing out through the almost
empty church.
A modest pine wood coffin was positioned
in front of the alter; inside rested the body of a young woman. Dressed in a
white lace gown, her deep brown hair arranged over her shoulders had been
combed until it shown. A cross had been tucked neatly between her clasped
hands. A ray of light flashed across her face, for the briefest moment her
eyelashes seemed to flutter.
“Surely fate could not be this cruel; to take
away the only daughter he had left,” thought Dr. Brown distraughtly. First the
disease had taken his wife, then his eldest daughter Mary and now Mercy. It was
torture to watch on helplessly as the disease devoured his loved ones. As eyes
sunk deeper into their skulls and flesh sank around them. Watching him as he
paced around the room, knowledge of their imminent fate sealed in their gaze. For
each, death had come swiftly, stalking in the night.
Once the liturgy had been recited,
two pallbearers strode forth from the back of the church. Placing the pine lid over
the coffin, they drove in nails securing it in place. With each nail Dr. Brown visibly
winced as if they were driving the nails straight into his heart. Then the
pallbearers lifted the coffin; slowly escorting it down the aisle of the church
accompanied by My Soul There is a Country
on the organ.
Outside in the bitterly cold air a
simple horse and cart waited; stomping hooves, steam billowing from the horses nostrils.
The pallbearers lifted the coffin onto the platform of the cart. “Walk on,”
said one of the men in a deep voice, flicking the horse with a crop. Dr. Brown
and his son followed behind as the cart made its way to the stone crypt at the
end of the graveyard. This was where Mercy’s body would rest until the thaw and
she could then be interred in the ground with her mother and sister.
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