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Short Story by Jude Kearney
The drive home with Eddie is almost never this quiet; usually his eyes bounce from the road to me, to his phone, and back to the road, but they stayed fixed on the traffic. Two arms on the wheel, only the wheel when changing gears. Most of the time music would play in the car, with both of us fighting over who gets to choose the next song, but now the silence would only be interrupted by the occasional click of the handbrake.
“So, how are you doing?” I asked.
Eddie, his eyes still on the road, replied:
“Yeah, fine. How come?”
“Nothing, you're just quiet, is all”.
“Oh, just not used to driving this way is all”.
Bullshit. Eddie continued.
“How are things with you then?”
“Also fine, a load of people there”.
A slight exhale left his nose.
“Haven’t seen most of those lads since graduation”, he paused, probably wondering what to say next, “Nice to see Conor’s beard fully grown out”.
Conor, a guy we used to sit with during lunch, was friendly enough. For the first few years, a small bit of stubble below the nostrils and chin was the most he could muster.
“Yeah, he’s even got the sideburns faded to match his skin fade”, I answered.
Eddie laughed.
“You know, that makes you wonder. Did he get a haircut specifically for the funeral?” Eddie asked.
“Probably just poor timing”, I paused. “How good would you even want to look for a funeral?”
Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, Eddie furrowed his brows.
“I’d say just enough to look presentable”, he replied, curling his lips and muttering, “even if we have different ideas of presentable”.
My head slowly craned from the windshield to Eddie’s blank stare.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He scoffed before lifting his hand to gesture at his open button-collared shirt and suit trousers.
“You basically forced me to change into a suit!” Eddie exclaimed.
I shrugged my shoulders in confusion.
“What are you on about?” I snapped. “That’s what you’re supposed to wear at funerals.”
“Charlie’s dad wasn’t wearing a suit”
“Charlie’s dad."
“Yeah, Charlie’s dad."
“The guy whose son passed, whose funeral we’re just leaving”.
The silence returned for the next few minutes; despite planning to go to the wake together, and leave together, we had hardly mentioned Charlie’s name at all. Like Conor, he was someone we only knew in small doses. When was the last time I even spoke to the guy? Maybe a wave when crossing paths in College, or bumping into him on nights out? I looked over at Eddie’s collared shirt again.
“You didn’t even wear a suit jacket, let alone a tie”.
“Jacket didn’t fit”, Eddie retorted.
“Didn’t fit?” I paused, glancing at the trouser legs, the hem hanging just above the ankles to reveal white athletic socks. My mind, occupied with my own mortality, had kept me from noticing this until now.
“Eddie,” I asked, “how long have you had that suit?”
Eddie, finally glancing over at me, was slightly confused.
“Why’s it matter?”
“Just answer."
He mouthed a few numbers, most likely dating back to when he last visited a clearance rack at the nearest menswear shop.
“I think I got this maybe three years ago, just before college anyway."
Three years ago? Looking back, I couldn’t recall a single event in the last three years where Eddie had to wear a suit. Even as one of his closest friends, I couldn’t imagine him beyond a tracksuit or plain jeans on a night out. A night out, yes, one that involves a suit- it finally hit me.
“Jesus, Eddie, is that the suit you wore at your debs?”
A certain tension rose in his shoulders, stemming from sudden embarrassment and confusion.
“So what, it’s a suit for crying out loud!”
“You’re like twenty kilograms heavier since your debs; how are you fitting into that?”
“I am not twenty kilograms heavier, what the f-”
“-you need a new suit, Ed."
He shook his head in disagreement.
“Not spending money on something I’ll wear a few times a year; I’ve gotten away with jeans before at other funerals."
“Well, there’s also weddings, job interviews and-”, I paused, “you’ve been to other funerals?”
He grumbled a ‘mhm’ as he made a right-hand turn.
“What was the last funeral you went to?”
Eddie mouthed a few numbers again, except this time it was clear he was pretending.
“About three months ago, Uncle, Dad’s side”. ‘
Three months ago, Eddie and I were deep in exam territory. Working weekends and spending early mornings and late nights in the library; after that, Summer break celebrations began. In almost none of those months together would I have assumed Eddie was mourning a relative.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dunno, I was busy, you were busy,” He answered. “Just one of those things that happens."
“You could’ve talked to me about it, you know."
He nodded his head slowly,
“For sure, for sure."
I had a gut feeling that this time, Eddie could smell the bullshit from that question. Three months ago, if he approached me, I wouldn’t have known what to say. Buy him a dairy milk maybe? Or a pint? He glanced over at me as I was deep in thought.
“That your first funeral?”
This time it was my turn to stare off into the distance.
“Knew it”, Eddie smirked, “go on then, tell us”.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed.
“About Charlie, talk”.
A few ideas entered my mind, but none of them was enough to form a coherent sentence.
“Well, we hardly knew the fella, did we.” I pondered.
“School for six years, has got to mean something, no?”
“I suppose”, I continued, “remember the party he threw on Halloween”.
“With the firework?”
I laughed.
“The very one, surprised the house didn’t burn that."
“Still can’t believe how little he cared”, Eddie replied.
It’s true, when the firework tipped over while the fuse was lit, it shot straight at the wall of his house. Surprisingly, no one was hurt. When the smoke cleared, everyone looked to Charlie, assuming he was gonna kick us all out, but he just laughed and prepared the next rocket.
“You know, he always loved hosting people”, I remarked.
“Definitely a rare quality”, Eddie responded, “but he did always insist on having all kinds of people over."
“Yeah, he wasn’t short for friends, I’ll tell you that."
“Explains the large crowd at the funeral."
Among all of his old classmates at his funeral were also a handful of family members, coworkers from his part-time job, and a large group of strangers who I assume were from his University. Eddie and I had to stand on the far side of the chapel once the seats were all filled.
“It’s sad, you know."
“What is?” Eddie asked.
“The one time everyone in his life was able to get together on his behalf was at his funeral."
My lips pursed as I looked out the side window; we were almost at my house. Eddie sighed again.
“Could look at it the other way around, you know."
“What do you mean?”
“I think he really would have loved knowing that he brought all these people together, his last big achievement."
The car rolled up to my driveway, and we both sat in the car for a moment. Before I opened the door, I looked to Eddie.
“Does wisdom like that often come after funerals?” I asked and he laughed.
“Not really; a perspective change can be handy, though”, he smiled. “Talking about it helps too”.
"Yeah, I wonder who said that,” I replied leaving the car.
“The lads are having drinks later, little chance to catch up, you coming?”
“Sure, why not”
“I’m gonna switch into jeans, like a normal person."
“Alright, alright, see you."
“See you."
Charlie would pop up in and out of conversations for the next few years. I never really know how Conor truly feels about Charlie’s passing, but he always listens to me when I speak about how I feel. In some ways, it feels unfair. But I think he prefers it that way.