I already knew too many dead people.
I knew that time would now pass for me differently than it would for him—
that I, like everyone in that room, would go on accumulating loves and losses while he would not.
And for me, that was the final and truly unbearable tragedy:
Like all the innumerable dead, he’d once and for all been demoted from haunted to haunter.
And then one of Gus’s brothers-in-law brought up a boom box and they played this song Gus had picked out—
a sad and quiet song by The Hectic Glow called “The New Partner.”
I just wanted to go home, honestly. I didn’t know hardly any of these people,
and I felt Peter Van Houten’s little eyes boring into my exposed shoulder blades,
but after the song was over, everyone had to come up to me and tell me that I’d spoken beautifully,
and that it was a lovely service, which was a lie: It was a funeral. It looked like any other funeral.
His pallbearers—cousins, his dad, an uncle, friends I’d never seen—came and got him, and they all started walking toward the hearse.
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