Days of Love and Blood

harbored no ill feelings - no resentment. Before she could say anything, I wrapped my arms around her.
    “I’m so sorry, Ivy.” The phrase had a thousand different meanings and I meant every single one.
    “Thank you.”
    “Are you alright?”
    “I am. I am now. Thanks for coming. I was worried you hated me.”
    “Me? No. I could never hate you. I was upset but I understand why you couldn’t…” I let my voice trail off and looked away, my eyes finding a picture of me and Ivy on an oversized armchair taken at some county fair.
    “Do you? Do you really?”
    “Of course I do. I was just shocked, that’s all. I never came across someone I knew as a homicidal, so I hadn’t dealt with it yet. I don’t think I could ever kill someone I know either.”
    “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
    “It’s okay. But I want you to know that you don’t have to hide anything from me. You can tell me anything, Ivy. I’m the one you should be able to trust. And it’s still me, Ivy. I haven’t changed. It’s still me. I promise.”
    “I was scared.”
    “Don’t ever be scared of me. Please.”
    “Thanks for coming.”
    “Of course. I think they’re ready to bring him out. Are you ready?”
    I held Ivy’s hand as we walked behind the men carrying Mr. Fielding’s body . He was wrapped in several white sheets but patches of blackened pus and blood were beginning to slowly grow, radiating out from the armpit, groin and neck areas. They carried him on a makeshift stretcher of used boards nailed roughly together. Behind us were the rest of the people, somber and quiet.
    Cooper and Johnson stood waiting for us, both holding onto the shovels next to a freshly dug hole. I avoided eye contact. After Mr. Fielding was gently placed down into the hole, there was nothing but silence cut only by the cackling of passing crows. Ivy began to cry and I realized I was the only person besides Ivy who knew Mr. Fielding. Everyone else was simply there out of respect. I didn’t want to speak but regrettably knew it was the right thing to do. I cleared my throat and let go of Ronan’s hand to step forward.
    “Mr. Fielding - Tom - was like a second dad to me. He was a good man. A family man. A hard worker. A kind person. I’ll always remember the time when my parents couldn’t make it to this school play me and Ivy were in. Tom and Mary drove me there with Ivy. When I was done saying my two lines, Tom stood up and clapped and whistled for me, like I was his own daughter. I remember feeling a hundred feet tall when he did that. I remember another time when I got too drunk at a party when I was a teenager and I wanted to go home. I was terrified to call my parents, so I ended up calling Tom instead. It must have been around one in the morning but he was there in five minutes to get me. I remember him telling me how proud he was of me for calling someone. He never did tell my parents. He was very good to me. There was one year when my parents were struggling and Tom knew it. My dad was too proud to ask for help but he didn’t need to ask, not with Tom. I think I was eleven or twelve at the time. Tom came over with a bag filled with Ivy’s old clothes for me and asked if I wanted them. I remember he made it sound real casual so that Dad wouldn’t take offense. For that whole year Tom picked me up and drove me to school each day and every single day he gave me extra food for my lunch. Every day. Without fail. When I left town and went away to college, he wrote letters. He picked up the phone and called. Just to say hello. And he would always talk about Ivy. He loved his daughter. She was the best thing he ever grew, he used to say. I think Ivy was all he ever talked about, at least to me. I remember him always calling Ivy his moon . One time I asked why he referred to Ivy as his moon and he said it was because he thought of her as the moon and the stars in the sky. He said Ivy brightened the night and all of the dark places. He only had to think of his daughter whenever he was in a bad place, and everything would always be okay. That was Mr. Fielding if you didn’t know him. I’ll always have good memories of you, Mr. Fielding - Tom.”
    I stepped backward and took Ronan’s hand , feeling slightly embarrassed for such a pitiful eulogy. Ivy was still too choked up to say anything and so Brigham stepped forward.
    “I didn’t know Mr. Fielding. But I know that he raised an exceptionally kind young woman who has allowed all of