Free Two Bits Four Bits by Mark Cotton

is thrown
on and the tent is torn down. That may not be the way they do
things in Dallas or Houston these days, but the saying still holds
true in most small towns in the Lone Star State, and Elmore was no
exception.
    The ritual typically
begins in the morning, at the funeral home where the departed’s
body has been available for visitation for at least a couple of
days, usually with the casket lid propped open. The family and
those close to them will gather an hour or two before services are
scheduled and visit in whispered voices, as if speaking in a normal
tone might awake the central player. They’ll usually make comments
about how “good” the decedent looks, as if St. Peter acted more
like a doorman with a velvet rope, preventing anyone who looked
“bad” from entering Club Heaven.
    At some point, those
gathered will decide to make their way to the church, where they
will sit and listen to organ music and shush any children in
attendance. Meanwhile, the staff of the funeral home will transport
the casket across town and roll it into place at the front of the
church. The church is where the largest crowd will gather, and will
usually include many who were only slightly acquainted with the
departed, and those whose only connection was through a family
member.
    Once those gathered fill
up the church pews, the older men in the crowd will surrender their
seats to the fairer sex and stand at the rear of the church,
quietly talking football to each other. Eventually, the preacher
will make his entrance and preach a sermon that will mention the
fact that the departed had a relationship with The Lord, and invite
those in the gathered crowd who don’t to search their hearts and do
the same, the implication being that as long as you’re still alive
it isn’t too late to purchase an eternal life insurance
policy.
    After the sermon is
finished, the organist will play a few more songs and then the
preacher will announce the location of the burial. After filing
outside to watch the pallbearers load the casket into the hearse,
those in attendance will form a procession of vehicles that will
snake through the streets of town on their way to the cemetery.
Those who are only attending the services out of social courtesy
will sit and watch the line of cars form and depart, and then take
an alternate route back to their homes or businesses, feeling just
a tinge of guilt that they didn’t make the trip to the
cemetery.
    The local police force
will have formed a funeral detail that will race ahead of the
procession to block traffic at major intersections, and follow
behind the last car in line as a marker of where the procession
ends and regular traffic begins, lest any freeloaders try to run
the red lights with the rest of the mourners. All along the route,
old-timers that aren’t part of the procession will pull their
vehicles to the side of the road as a sign of respect, even if they
are in the oncoming lane of traffic. Farmers in coveralls will step
out of their pickups and stand beside the fender with their hats
removed and held over their hearts as they watch the line of cars
pass.
    At the cemetery, the
family and those closest to the departed will take their places in
the half-dozen rows of metal folding chairs that the funeral home
will have set up under a tent without walls immediately adjacent to
the open grave. The preacher will circulate among the crowd while
the funeral home staff and pallbearers place the casket on a device
that will ultimately lower it into the earth. The funeral home
staff will also bring the flower arrangements that traveled first
from the funeral home to the church, and surround the gravesite
with them. When everything is in place, and the summertime heat or
wintertime cold has become almost unbearable for those in
attendance, the preacher will say a few more words and talk about
what a glorious day it is for the departed.
    With the graveside
services concluded, the family members will mingle