The Glass Top Coffin (standard:drama, 2220 words) [7/12] show all parts
Author: Stephen-Carver Byrd	Added: Dec 31 2002	Views/Reads: 2568/1939	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
***Part 7*** Funeral For A Friend

“THE GLASS TOP COFFIN” 

***Part 7*** Funeral For A Friend 

By Stephen Bryan (HurricaneWarning) 

If it is fitting to say, it was a beautiful day for a funeral. The
bright warm Sunday afternoon played a gorgeous host for the many 
mourners who had come to pay their last respects to Wendil L. Moore. 
Jordan sat quietly beside his mother in the car as they drove to the 
little church. The boy had not talked much during the last few days and 
Madelyn was beginning to worry about him. Last night she had asked if 
he would like to say a eulogy regarding Mr. Moore. At first, Jordan was 
horrified at the idea of standing in front of a large audience. 
However, after thinking it over the thought seemed appealing. Besides, 
he reasoned, he owed Mr. Moore at least this much respect in light of 
all that he had taught and encouraged him. Jordan wrote one page and 
handed it to his mother. She carefully read every word then told him it 
was excellent and not to change a word. Jordan slowly took the page 
from his mother and re-read it. Frowning, he balled it up and tossed it 
into the wastebasket. Madelyn looked surprised and confused. Jordan 
took out another sheet and wrote for ten minutes then handed it back to 
her. When Madelyn had finished reading, she hugged her son. This time 
there were large tears in her eyes. 

As their car passed S.L. Anderson's home, Jordan glanced at it casually
then shot up in the seat in total disbelief. There to the left side of 
the lawn was a freshly plowed garden. He only had a glimpse of it but 
there was no mistake. Long white strings had been tied tautly to wooden 
stakes marking the rows of beans, squash, carrots and other vegetables. 
Madelyn looked at Jordan, he was as white as a ghost. 

“Are you ok?” She asked in concerned voice. Jordan just stared out the
window, slowly nodding his head, never noticing Mr. Moore's boarded up 
country store. 

Earlier, Madelyn had phoned Pastor Ellis and informed him that her son
wished to say a few words on Mr. Moore‘s behalf. He was delighted and 
told her he would save them both a spot on the front pew. When Jordan 
and Madelyn walked into the little church, they immediately noticed the 
sweet and rich scent of floral that lingered in the air. The flowers 
surrounding Mr. Moore's light oak casket was overwhelming. Jordan 
handed his mother the small vase of flowers that he was carrying and 
walked straight to Mr. Moore's closed casket. The boy placed both of 
his small hands on top of it and began making tiny circles. Immediately 
his eyes began to burn. He quickly stepped away, trying desperately to 
control his emotions. Madelyn intervened, putting an arm around her 
son. “Why don't we read some of the cards that are attached to all the 
pretty flowers,” she suggested. 

Jordan knew many of the contributors but the vast majority of the
flowers were donated from people totally unknown in Falls Hills. Jordan 
thought of Mr. Moore's big-scarred hands and his earlier life -- the 
life he would never talk about. The boy wondered if perhaps these were 
some of the people who were a part of that past silent world. When 
Jordan and his mother had finished reading the cards, they both took 
their seats on the front pew. Jordan looked around as more people filed 
into the small chapel and began hunting for a place to sit. He had 
never remembered seeing the church so full, even on Easter Sunday. Many 
people had no place to sit and simply stood around the back and sides 
of the little church. Sitting off to his left, Jordan could see Wally 
Perkins, who actually looked half-sober for a change. Then he noticed 
some men he had never seen in Falls Hills. They looked strange, sort of 
like the Secret Service men he had once seen on TV, the ones who so 
professionally protected our President, John F. Kennedy. They dressed 
in expensive looking dark suits; some wore deep shaded aviation 
glasses. None of them sat, they stood in the back, talking among 
themselves and watching. 

When Pastor Ellis walked to the podium all the small chatter stopped.
For thirty minutes, he talked about Mr. Moore, listing his wonderful 
and generous qualities. The qualities that this small community knew, 
loved, and would dearly miss. When he had finished, the Pastor stepped 
away from the podium and nodded to Jordan. Madelyn nudged her son 
lightly and encouraged him not to be nervous. Jordan walked to the 


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