11
He leaves the room. Nélida asks him to follow her so he can sign the papers. They step into her office and she offers him a cup of coffee, which he turns down. Nélida is nervous; she shuffles the papers, takes a sip of water. He thinks that this should be routine for her, that there’s no reason to be holding up the paperwork as she is.
“What’s going on, Nélida?”
Nélida looks at him, disconcerted. She’s never been this direct, or this aggressive.
“It’s nothing, dear, just that I had to call your sister.”
She looks at him with a bit of guilt, but also resolve.
“These are the nursing home’s rules and there are no exceptions.
You know I adore you, dear, but I’d be putting my job at risk. Who knows what we’d be dealing with if your sister showed up and made a scene. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.”
“That’s fine.”
On other occasions, he would have consoled her and said something like “Don’t worry about it” or “No problem”. But not today.
“You’ll have to sign the consent form to cremate him. Your sister has already sent it back with a virtual signature, but she clarified that she won’t be able to attend the cremation. We can make the call to the
funeral parlour if you like.”
“Go ahead.”
“Of course, you’ll have to attend the cremation, to confirm it’s taken place. They’ll give you the urn there.”
“That’s fine.”
“Will you be wanting a simulacrum of a funeral?”
“No.”
“Of course, almost no one has them now. But what about the
farewell service?”
“No.”
Nélida looks at him with surprise. She drinks some more water and crosses her arms. “Your sister would like to have the service, and legally, she has the right. I understand you’re in denial, but she’s determined to say goodbye.”
He breathes deeply, feels a crushing exhaustion. The stone is now the size of his whole chest. He’s not going to argue with anyone. Not with Nélida, not with his sister, not with all the people who will attend the simulacrum of a wake, what they call a “farewell service”, just to be on good terms with his sister, even though these people never knew his father, and didn’t once take it upon themselves to ask how he was.
Then he laughs and says, “Fine, let her have the service. Let her take care of something for once. Just one thing.”
Nélida looks at him with surprise and a bit of pity. “I understand your anger and you have reason to feel the way you do, but she’s your sister. You only have one family.”
He tries to recall when it was, exactly, that Nélida went from being a nursing home employee to someone who believes she has the right to give advice and her opinion, and to fall again and again into
platitudes and irritating clichés.
“Give me the papers, Nélida. Please.”
Nélida recoils. She looks at him, taken aback. He’s always been kind to her, affectionate even. She gives him the papers in silence. He signs them and says, “I want him to be cremated today, now.”
“Okay, dear. After the Transition, everything was sped up. Take a seat in the waiting room and I’ll look after it. They’ll come get him in a regular car, just so you know. Hearses are no longer used.”
“Yeah, everyone knows that.”
“Right, well, I just wanted to clarify it because there are a lot of clueless people who think that things haven’t changed when it comes to these matters.”
“How could things not have changed after the attacks? It was in all the papers. No one wants their dead family member to be eaten en route to the cemetery, Nélida.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m nervous, and I’m not thinking clearly.
I cared a lot about your father and all of this is very difficult for me.”
There’s a long silence. He’s unwilling to concede an apology in return. Instead, he looks at her impatiently and she gets upset.
“I know it’s not for me to ask, Marcos, but are you okay? This is very sad news, I know that, but for some time now you’ve been a bit off, you have bags under your eyes, you seem tired.”
He looks at her without saying anything and she continues, “All right, well what’s going to happen is that you’ll go there in the car and you’ll be next to your father at all times, including during the cremation.”
“I know, Nélida. I’ve been through this before.”
She goes white. Of course, it hadn’t occurred to her, not until now. Nélida gets up quickly and says, “I’m sorry, I’m an old fool. I’m sorry.” She keeps apologizing until they reach the waiting room, where he sits down and she offers him something to drink before leaving in silence.