Alonzo is having a rough emotional time right now. He blames himself for Alberto’s death.
This chapter contains a mention of an adult situation. If that bothers you, please don’t read it.
Also, some of the pictures aren’t from my game. For some reason, a lot of the screenshots I took became corrupted files. Thus, a Google search helped me to find some pictures to illustrate the chapter.
It had been three days since his father’s passing. For three days, Alonzo had not eaten. He had barely risen from the bed. Today was the funeral. The early morning sun shone through the bedroom windows waking him. His bones creaked as he slowly rose from the bed. He had no choice. Today, he had to go out. He had to face his father. The bells of the church rang loudly and mournfully. His mother had scheduled the funeral for the morning, right after the morning mass. Alonzo shuffled to the basin and splashed cool water on his face. He sighed as he dressed in his finest suit.
“Alonzo,” called his mother from downstairs, “It is time to go”. He pulled on his shoes and headed down the stairs. The church was a short walk from their cottage and he wanted to be there for his mother. It would be hard for Angelica. She and Alberto had been married for nearly forty years. Alonzo, their only son, was born late in their marriage after a string of miscarriages. Alonzo took his mother’s arm gently in his. She looked stronger than he had expected her to. The two walked in silence to the church.
The church was decorated with flowers, lilies, his father’s favorite. The sweet smell filled the air. It was cool inside, despite the warmth of the morning outside. Alonzo slid into the front pew, next to his mother. He stared blankly into the eyes of the saints statues throughout the service, not moving, not speaking, as if looking for answers. The church was filled with the townspeople. Alberto was loved by all. Alonzo did take notice of how few young men there were. His father was right. They had all gone to Rome or to America. The morning light shone through the stained glass, dancing its colorful reflection on the lid of the casket.
It seemed like hours and it seemed like everyone in the village shook his hand and sent him their condolences. The casket stool alone in the church. Alonzo stared. He could feel the blood thumping in his temples, his ears reddening. His eyes burned with tears.
“Papa,” he spoke softly, “I’m so sorry. I never got to say goodbye. I never got to tell you I love you, that Mama loves you, that no matter what, I will lead the Rossi legacy. I will go to America. Goodbye Papa”. He placed his hand on the lid of the casket and closed his eyes.
At the village cemetery, a cool breeze blew. Alonzo and five of his father’s friends carried the casket to the site. It was silent aside from the click of leather soled shoes on the cobble stoned paths. In his mind, all Alonzo could think of was going to America, to fulfill his father’s wish for him. He bit his lip to fight back the feeling of dread that seemed to be overwhelming him.
The heavy wooden casket was placed into the ground. Each of the pall bearers threw a shovel of dirt onto the casket, making the sign of the cross and mouthing silent prayers.
Finally, it was Angelica’s time to throw a single lily onto the casket. Tears flowed from her eyes as she audibly sobbed as she gently let the flower go into the ground.