Larry is killed in a car accident along with two other teen boys. His father has visited the site of the accident and is very upset to discover a piece of his son’s skull overlooked by the cleanup crew. He calls my dad about it. Dad goes there, finds the skull fragment, puts it in a pizza box he had in the trunk of the car, and delivers it to the funeral home.
John’s sixteen-year-old son has hung himself. “No father loved or was more proud of their son than me.”
I am in the church late at night typing an essay when I hear a knock on the door. I shouldn’t answer it but I do. An unkempt young man is there with a velvet bag in his hand. He tries to give me the bag. I refuse to take it. I expect to find a severed body part in the bag as if I’m in a David Lynch movie.