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A funeral day had no right looking this nice.
Only a couple weeks earlier, Katie would have thrown her curtains open to let the natural desert light stream in as she tapped on her computer or gave the Roomba a few upgrades. Her mom might have even kicked her outside with orders to walk Bae Bae or visit the pool, with the promise of fruit smoothies or frozen yogurt when she returned. The desert sun was nearly unbearable, but even Colleen Holt could beat the heat with a stick if she had to.
Today, Katie’s dress blended in with the shadows cast around her dimly-lit room.
She only peaked through the curtains to check the weather, debating whether she should bring a raincoat. She hoped an umbrella would be in her future, giving her an easy way to hide from stray cameras. Instead, the bright light outside nearly blinded her from where it reflected off the silver accents of a shiny black limousine parked in front of her house.
Katie shut the curtains again and jammed her feet into a pair of black flats, leaving her jacket draped over her chair. She hurried down the hall to her mother’s room, giving the door a small tap to announce her presence.
“Mom, they’re here.” She said. The doorbell echoed her message.
“Can you answer the door, Katie?” Her mother asked. Her voice was strained, like she had been crying again.
Katie didn’t reply but she did make her way downstairs, treading heavily past the stack of cardboard boxes lining the hallway to the front door. She could see Commander Iverson through the glass on the door as she opened it, the same stern expression painting his face as always. It was almost a relief to see something look normal when her whole world had just shifted on its axis.
“Good morning, Miss Holt. The procession is ready whenever you are.” Iverson said.
“Mom will be down in a second.” Katie replied, leaving the door open but not inviting Iverson inside. The brightness outside reminded Katie of the day of the launch, which had been sunny and bright with a light breeze to cool the sweat under her bangs. It had been a picture-perfect day for the event of the century.
It was hot and stuffy outside—at least that was different. A picture-perfect forecast for a funeral.
Iverson left her alone at the door in favor of waiting by the limousine, although his gaze stayed on Katie. He didn’t look impatient or annoyed, although his resting face could be misleading. There wasn’t pity in his eyes, either. He had seen plenty of astronauts succeed on their missions, and just as many fail. Iverson looked like a grieving man finally turning numb to the pain.
“Your bow is crooked.” Her mother appeared behind her, tugging at the loose black ribbon around her waist that Katie had tried to tie herself. Her tone was light and teasing, like they were off to meet her father and brother at some formal event and Katie was scowling at the kitten heels she was being forced to wear. Katie left the bow as it was in a small act of defiance against the big publicity event the funeral was turning into, wiggling her toes in the soft flats she wore before following her mother down the front steps to the awaiting procession.
Garrison vehicles flanked the limousine on both sides, no doubt filled with other personnel who had worked on the mission or with her dad in some capacity. She wondered if there was a separate limousine going to pick up someone on Shiro’s side as well, although she didn’t remember meeting any of his family members during family day, a week before the launch. The funerals were public and joint, a media spectacle her mother had only agreed to because the Garrison would take care of it all—limos included. The wake, however, had been small and private. Katie has asked if they were going to Lieutenant Shirogane’s wake as well, but Colleen had asked the Garrison and they said no one had arranged one.
Colleen left three white candles burning in their living room window.
Katie was relieved when Iverson closed the limo door behind them and sat up front with the driver, leaving the space for her to be alone with her mom. It wasn’t a long trip to the military cemetery where the funeral was being held, but it was a tense one. Her mother anxiously twirled her wedding ring around her finger, a habit she picked up every time her father was away and dropped after he returned. Katie reached up to touch the matching gold band hanging from a leather cord around her neck, a gift from her father that she had promised to give back.
The ride ended up being too short. Katie had just begun contemplating whether she should fake an illness to escape the press that was undoubtedly going to blind her with the flashing lights on their cameras when Iverson opened the back door for them. Luckily for them, as her mother looked back on the brink of tears, a familiar—and friendlier—face greeted them outside.
“Colleen, Katie, it’s good to see you.” Rosa Fuentes had been her father’s primary research partner at the Garrison since before Katie was born. “The press is here, but they have strict orders not to bother you or they will be expelled from the premises.”
“Thank you, Rosa.” Colleen sniffled, accepting a tissue from Iverson, who apparently came prepared. “This is... bigger than I expected.” Katie nodded vigorously in agreement, looking around at the wide, open space the Garrison had set up in the cemetery.
Each empty grave had the official Garrison identification picture of the intended occupant blown up and propped up on a tripod, wreathed with birds of paradise and forget-me-nots. In front of each picture was a small gathering of offerings and flowers from funeral goers who hadn’t attended the wake. The space in front of the graves was split into two sets of at least a hundred folding chairs each, about half of which were already occupied by Garrison personnel in their crisp grey uniforms and a couple plain-clothed acquaintances. The press lurked around the edges, the nearest ones laser-focused on the people emerging from the procession—especially those emerging from the shiny black limousine.
Katie took a tissue from Iverson, using it to dab at the sweat beading on her forehead. If it had been a grey and gloomy day, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about sweating pit stains into her dress when dozens of people with cameras were waiting to catch her showing any emotion, good or bad.
“I’m going to get some water.” Katie declared, spying the beverage tent on the other side of the setup. Shade from the sun and fresh ice water, courtesy of the uniformed caterer hiding in the shadows. “I’ll bring you one too, Mom.”
“Thank you, Katie.”
“Colleen, I’ll take you to your seat.” Rosa offered. “Katie, we’ll be in the front row on the right side.”
Katie nodded, watching them walk down the center aisle before making her escape from Iverson’s heavy gaze. She skirted around the press, who pointedly pretended to ignore her until they were out of her direct line of sight and relatively free to take pictures of her departing back.
Despite the heat, the beverage tent was relatively full of ice and empty of people. Katie grabbed two cups, pouring a pink lemonade for herself and a water for her mom. The caterer nodded at her but said nothing, either instructed to leave her alone or unaware of who she was in the sea of people dressed in black-or-Garrison-grey.
“Your bow is undone.” A bored voice interrupted the peace of the beverage tent. A cadet dressed in his orange uniform stood near one of the tent poles, half-finished drink in hand.
Katie sighed, setting both drinks down on the table in front of her. “I can never get it right by myself.” She reached behind herself to find that her bow was hanging loose, coming apart at the barest touch of her fingers, and debated whether she should even try tying it again. She eyed up the boy, who was no more than a couple years older than her, with shaggy brown hair and a terrified look hidden in his eyes when they made eye contact. His gaze briefly flicked over her shoulder, where the picture of Matt was, and he appeared to go pale despite the high chance of sunburn.
“I can help you, if you want.” He offered nonetheless, meeting her gaze again with a guarded look.
“Thank you.” Katie let the ribbon fall to either side of her waist, turning away from the boy to face the crowds. More people were starting to get settled into their seats like a puzzle slowly being filled in. Katie had heard there was an assigned section for everyone except the press, who would be up recording the event for the news. Katie spotted most of the Garrison officials grouped in the front of the left side, presumably Shiro’s side, wearing matching grey uniforms and all their badges and medals. Only a few were on the right side, behind the front row reserved for her and her mom. She recognized several of them as other scientists she had seen work with her dad over the years, with a whole row of fresh-faced young adults dressed in black being the interns for the year.
She didn’t see any other cadets in orange.
“There, that should hold.” The boy said. The bow was a little loose on her waist but when Katie reached back, she felt a perfectly symmetrically, perfectly even bow resting on her back.
“Thanks.” Katie spun around, quickly scanning his scruffy hair and indigo eyes once more before he decided to disappear into the crowd or something to get away from her.
Not like he’d get very far. He’s the only cadet in orange at the reception, she’s sure of it. Everyone else his age is dressed in a classic black ensemble, like Katie. He’s the outlier, just like he was at family day before the launch; the only cadet in orange.
“You’re Keith, right?” Katie procured the name from her subconscious, pleased to see the startled look on the boy’s face that told her she guessed correctly. “I’m Katie Holt. I remember you from the launch.”
“Keith.” He seemed a bit stunned as he repeated the name she already knew, but he held his hand out to shake. He was at least a full head taller than her, probably a few inches more, but he looked like he was trying to make himself even smaller than her. It explained why he was hiding out at the beverage tent when everyone else was mingling, he was probably hiding from the crowds like she was.
“Are you sitting front row too?” Katie asked, reaching for her forgotten lemonade. Busying her hands with a drink suddenly didn’t seem as important as it had before, now that she had Keith to talk to. She’d rather talk to Keith than anyone else at the funeral.
Keith shook his head. “I’m with the rest of the cadets. All the Garrison officials are in the front row.” He jerked his thumb towards the middle of the pack, where two rows were filled with teens about Keith’s age. “I’m only allowed here because the fighter class pilots were invited.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Katie exclaimed. “Lieutenant Shirogane chose to spend time with you for family day. That means you’re his family.” She crushed the plastic cup in her hand, feeling the cool lemonade drip down her knuckles. Keith seemed to panic, grabbing napkins and thrusting them towards her. She threw the cup away, licking some of the stickiness off her thumb.
“Shiro doesn’t want me to cause any trouble, so I didn’t make a scene about it.” Keith grumbled, crossing his arms and showing more of the attitude she had expected when she saw his haircut.
“My mom always said there’s a family you’re born with, and a family you choose.” Katie said. “You can’t change the family you’re born into, but you can change the family you choose. Shirogane chose you, and I think he would want you to have the chance to say a proper goodbye.”
Keith held the same look Iverson had, a scowl on the outside to hide the pain underneath. It was a look he was too young to have, the quick anger of a boy forced to grieve his losses time and time again. She could see traces of pain and anger in Keith’s eyes, the prettiest eyes Katie had ever seen, but they were also filled with fire. He would keep loving and keep surviving, but he expected the world to keep taking from him.
He was terrified that one day he wouldn’t expect it.
“Why aren’t you wearing black?” Katie asked. For some reason, it felt important.
Keith flushed slightly at her observation, clearly embarrassed to be so blatantly called out about it. “I-I don’t really own a suit, or a dress shirt. I thought my uniform was better than a pair of jeans.”
Katie mulled over his answer for a second, but it only made her more confident in her choices. “You’re sitting up front with me.” Katie decided. She grabbed her mother’s water—the ice cubes long since melted—and Keith’s free hand and tugged him to the front row. They passed Matt’s picture, and Katie noticed someone had left behind a bag of Cheetos for him. He’d be grateful, if he was there.
Colleen and Rosa sat near the middle aisle, a space left in between them for Katie. Her father’s picture was positioned in front of the aisle, between the other two, and a bag of hard candies was nestled amongst the bouquets below him.
“There you are, Katie.” Colleen said, gratefully accepting the water with a long sip. “I wondered what took you so long.”
“Mom, this is Keith.” Katie wasted no time, even though Keith sounded like he was going to choke on his drink if he didn’t die of heatstroke first. All that surviving and a little water and embarrassment in the middle of a desert would be what finally does him in.
To Katie’s surprise, Colleen smiled. “I remember Keith. You were at family day.” She held her hand out, patiently waiting as Keith dried his hand on his trousers before shaking hers. “Shiro talked about you all the time when we had him over for dinner.”
Katie had missed some of those dinners for various reasons, including robotics camp and the common cold, but now that her mother mentioned it... the name Keith had been relatively easy to draw from her memories, despite only barely meeting him once, about a year ago.
“Can he sit with us, Mom?” Katie asked.
“Of course, I’d love to have him with us.” Colleen smiled brightly, motioning for Rosa to close the gap between them. Katie took a seat next to Rosa and pulled Keith down with her.
“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.” Keith awkwardly said, leaning over Katie to be seen.
“And I’m sorry for yours as well.” Colleen surprised both of them when she reached over, giving Keith a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. Keith tensed up at her touch, but gradually relaxed into it.
They sat in silence for a little bit, until Rosa and Colleen started a conversation between themselves. That was when Keith finally spoke up, fiddling with the rim of his now-empty cup.
“Your mom is really nice.”
“I think you mean ‘really embarrassing’.”
“Maybe she’s both.”
“Yeah,” Katie hummed, her hand reflexively going back to the leather cord around her neck. She felt Keith’s eyes on her, slowly putting the pieces together. The he reached behind the collar of his own shirt and pulled out a metal ball chain with a pair of dog tags hanging off it.
“Shiro gave me his dog tags during family day.” Keith explained, running his thumb over the indents spelling out Shiro’s name. “He said he was sorry he wouldn’t be there when I graduate, but he would always stay with me this way.” He held the tags out to Katie, letting her read the letters punched into the pristine metal. “I promised I would give them back when he came back home, but maybe he gave me them because he knew he wasn’t coming back.”
“Dad gave me his wedding ring for the same reason.” Katie revealed. “He was sorry he wouldn’t be there when I started high school, but I could carry his ring with me.” She felt tears forming in her eyes, wiping them away as quickly as they formed. “I think you’re right; they were more worried than they let on. Dad always took his wedding ring with him.”
“Maybe they’re still out there.” Keith whispered. She almost didn’t hear him, over the commotion of people rushing to their seats at the tapping of a microphone. It was something no one else had said before, but she liked hearing it.
It gave her hope that she wasn’t the only one that thought they could be alive.
They sat through the funeral in silence, occasionally brushing shoulders and sharing looks at certain anecdotes. Katie wasn’t giving a speech, but her mom was. Colleen had created waterworks with her heart-wrenching speech only to rush away from the podium the second she was finished to wrap both of them in a tight hug.
“Hang in there, Keith.” They stopped in front of Shiro’s picture after the ceremony, admiring the bouquets of flowers left behind. Lots of roses, Katie noticed. “This isn’t the end for us. Maybe I’ll see you again and we’ll go to space together and talk to some aliens.”
Keith smirked, the sadness in his eyes covered with humor. “Yeah, maybe.” He turned around, trying to avoid her gaze and the gazes of dozens of Garrison officials filing out in various directions. It wasn’t until just now that Katie realized everyone was giving them a wide berth, leaving them in plain sight for anyone to see. She wasn’t quite sure if that was her fault or Keith’s. “I’ll see you up there, Katie.”
As he walked away to merge with the rest of the cadets, Katie spotted a small bundle of desert wildflowers tucked into the wreath around Shiro’s picture, tied together with a neat red bow.