Free o 7d2acff2003a9b7d by Unknown Page A

room. We just picked at them.
    “You know what?” I said after awhile [sic]. “I’d kind of like to see Ducky.”
    “You would? Now?” said Dawn.
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, let’s call him. He’d like it if you called him. I’m sure he’ll come over.”
    So we called him and he came over.
    Good old Ducky.
    When Ducky arrived one of the people downstairs let him in. Dawn and I didn’t hear the
    doorbell ring, so suddenly Ducky was just standing in the doorway to my room. The second Dawn and I saw him we burst into tears. Both of us. Poor Ducky.
    Ducky hugged me first, then Dawn. Then he started to cry too. I thought that would make things worse, but it didn’t. After a moment or two the three of us just looked at one another and then we started to laugh. And cry. Everything was all mixed up. We were trying to pull ourselves together a little when we heard someone say, “Hi.”
    We turned around and there was Maggie. It was not like her to drop by without calling first, so I was surprise. But mostly I found that I was very pleased. There was more hugging. We weren’t saying much. We’d cry a little, then someone would hug someone, then we’d laugh a bit.
    Later Dad called upstairs, “Sunny, telephone!”
    For some reason I checked my watch as I headed for the phone. I found that hours had gone by.
    Hours with my friends, crying, laughing, just being together.
    The caller was Amalia. “Can I come over?” she asked.
    “Yes,” I said. “I’d like that.”
    A half hour later Amalia had joined Dawn, Ducky, Maggie, and me. Now the five of us were sitting around crying, laughing — and talking a bit more than we had been earlier.
    When was the last time the five of us were together in one place other than school? Was it the night of that dreadful party, the night we met Ducky? That was months ago. It seems like forever ago.
    I have been so horrible to most of my friends lately. And here they all were, gathered around me like a cocoon. Protecting me. Loving me. Not caring how horrible I’ve been. For just a second I felt a teeny, teeny bit better. Then I remembered what is going to happen tomorrow.
    Please, please let me get through the funeral. It is going to be wretched. All I want is for it to be over.
    8:50 P.M.
    Carol came up awhile [sic] ago. She sat on my bed and talked to Dawn and me. Dawn wants to spend the night here. Carol said it’s okay. Dawn’s going to the funeral tomorrow. Everyone in her family is going. Carol has told Dawn she does not have to go to school afternoon. Dawn would be in no shape for it.
    Maggie, Ducky, and, and Amalia are going to the funeral too. I will be in my cocoon again.
    This afternoon I asked Dad if I can sit with my friends during the service.
    “Well,” he said, “family members are supposed to sit together in the first two pews.”
    My face must have shown my dismay. (Dismay? It was more like shock, horror.)
    “How about if we let Dawn sit with you?” he said. “If she doesn’t mind not sitting with her family.”
    So I talked to Dawn and Carol about that.
    “It’s up to you, honey,” Carol said to Dawn. “We’d like for you to sit with us, but we’ll understand if you want to sit with Sunny.”
    Dawn looked pained. I stopped just short of saying to her, “PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE sit with me. I need you. You’re like my sister. You HAVE to sit with me.”
    Maybe my face showed what I was thinking, though, because finally Dawn said, “Of course I’ll sit with you, Sunny. I’ll do anything you want.” But she sounded uncertain.
    Carol spoke up then. “How many funerals have you girls been to?” she asked.
    Dawn and I looked at each other. “One,” said Dawn.
    “One,” I said. “My great-aunt’s. Two years ago.”
    Carol nodded. “Funerals are difficult no matter what, but when you haven’t been to many …”
    I guess that’s why Dawn looked pained. It isn’t just that tomorrow is Mom’s funeral. It’s the whole idea of a funeral.
    “Dawn, if