The rain fell steadily, as if the sky itself mourned alongside the small gathering of family and friends at the funeral. It was a cliché, but it always seemed to rain on days like these. Pastor John stood at the podium, offering words of comfort and solace to the somber crowd. The number of attendees was modest, mostly consisting of immediate family.
Beside me, Buttons remained by my side, her head resting on my shoulder. She appeared serene, her eyes closed, as if finding peace in the moment. I couldn't help but wonder if my father had found his own peace.
The pastor's question broke the silence, inviting anyone to step forward and share their thoughts. I didn't see anyone immediately respond, but a few moments later, my mom stood up. Dressed in a black dress with a scarf around her neck, she prepared to speak. I, on the other hand, felt a wave of discomfort in my black and white suit. Suits always made me feel constricted, like I was pretending to be someone I wasn't.
"You should say something, Ray," Buttons whispered, her voice filled with encouragement.
I glanced at her and shook my head. "What am I going to say? That he was a good dad? That we used to play ball together? That I miss him?"
"Well, I guess... Whatever comes to your mind," she replied, understanding my hesitation.
"No. I'll keep my peace. They still don't know who did it, and I doubt they ever will," I stated, a hint of frustration seeping into my voice.
"These things take time," Buttons attempted to reassure me, but she changed her words as she caught my look. We both knew the truth. The system was flawed, and unless a case was particularly high-profile or lucrative, progress moved at a frustratingly slow pace. Justice for my father seemed like a distant possibility.
Would they eventually find his murderer? Maybe in a year, or perhaps even longer. But I couldn't rely on the authorities alone. Once I returned to New Vegas, I was determined to uncover the truth, no matter the obstacles in my path.
"Yeah, I know. Once I make it back to New Vegas, I'll find out who did it, no matter what," I affirmed, determination coursing through my words.
As the rain continued to fall outside, mingling with the tears shed for my father, I vowed to myself that I would seek justice and bring closure to his memory. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but I was prepared to face them head-on. For now, I remained present in this moment of farewell, cherishing the memories of my father and finding the strength to do what must be done.
"Do you even know when you're going back?" Buttons asked me, her voice laced with genuine concern.
"After this is done with. I'm mostly here for my mom, but I can consider staying a bit longer with a bit of convincing," I replied, searching for a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she raised her head. "Oh really now?"
I chuckled softly, appreciating her playful response. "I'm just saying," I replied, my gaze meeting hers.
Curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she leaned closer. "And what exactly are you saying?"
My smile widened, but instead of answering her directly, I decided to tease her a little. Sometimes, it was easier to hide the vulnerability beneath a veil of playfulness. "Well, if you're that worried, you can always join me," I suggested, a glimmer of hope dancing in my voice.
A fleeting expression of hesitation crossed her face before she shook her head gently. "No, there are still things I have to do here," she explained, her tone laced with a mixture of determination and regret.
Understanding her reasons, I nodded, though a part of me still yearned for her companionship in the upcoming challenges. It wasn't easy to let go of that desire, even if I knew it was temporary.
Her shoulder bumped against mine, a gentle reminder of her presence. "Come on, Ray, don't look like that. You weren't being serious," she said, her voice filled with warmth and concern.
"Yeah, you got me alright," I responded, a touch of humor in my tone, even though the slight pang of disappointment still lingered within me.
As the weight of our unspoken emotions hung in the air, we sat in silence, allowing the words and memories of the funeral service to envelop us. My mom's resolute strength shone through as she spoke, holding back her tears. Her courage inspired me, reminding me of the resilience that ran through our family's veins.
The service drew to a close, and it was time to move from the church to Parkin's Memorial, the final resting place of my father. The rain persisted, casting a melancholic aura over the somber procession.
After the ceremony, as we prepared to part ways, Buttons approached me. She mentioned that she, Kiki, and Ricky would be heading to the cemetery as well, paying their respects. Our hug held a mixture of comfort and support.
I rode with Derrick, while my mom joined my aunt and uncle. The drive offered a moment of respite, a chance to connect with Derrick and gain insight into his experiences.
As we made our way to the cemetery, I engaged in a conversation with my cousin Derrick, who had returned a couple of months ago from his service in Europe. He looked more serious than I remembered, his rank higher and his uniform displaying alterations. With a sigh, he rolled down the window and pulled out a cigarette, a sign of his weariness.
Curiosity and concern filled me as I asked him about his return. "When did you come back?"
"A couple of months ago," he replied, lighting his cigarette. "I was able to leave the base after I heard the news."
I took a moment to process his words. It seemed that my father's passing had reached even the confines of the military. The fact that Derrick had taken the time to be here meant a lot to me.
"How are you holding up?" Derrick asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Alright, I guess," I responded, my tone reflecting a mix of emotions. "Just trying to stay calm and focused."
Derrick nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette. "That's one way to approach things. It's better than diving headfirst into an investigation, seeking revenge. Most guys I know would have been consumed by that desire, but it seems you've matured."
His words struck a chord within me. Revenge had crossed my mind, the desire to uncover the truth and bring those responsible to justice. Yet, I had chosen a different path, one that required patience and clarity.
"Thanks," I said. "How was Europe?"
I leaned in, eager to absorb every detail of Derrick's firsthand account of the war-ravaged Europe. His words painted a vivid picture of the chaos and devastation that had consumed the continent.
"The war in Europe was a complete nightmare," Derrick began, his voice tinged with weariness. "The aftermath of the Russian invasion and the subsequent civil war left the region in shambles. It was a battle fought not only with conventional weapons, but also with the power of crystals."
He went on to explain how crystals had become a prevalent force in warfare. These mystical artifacts endowed individuals with extraordinary abilities, rendering traditional firearms obsolete in many situations. The sheer destructive power of these crystals was staggering, with some enabling their wielders to cause earthquakes, manipulate elements, or even control minds.
"The mutations that occurred sixty years ago changed everything," Derrick continued, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "People with these crystal abilities emerged, altering the dynamics of warfare. It was no longer just about bullets and bombs. It became a contest of unimaginable powers."
His voice carried a mix of awe and disbelief, reflecting the profound impact these mutations had on the nature of conflict. The idea of wielding such immense power in the palm of one's hand seemed both fascinating and terrifying.
"The war zones were like scenes from a dystopian nightmare," Derrick added, his tone somber. "Entire cities reduced to rubble, and people caught in the crossfire of battles fought with these extraordinary abilities. The devastation was unfathomable."
As he delved deeper into the war's effects, Derrick highlighted the ripple effects of the conflict. The population was divided, with some embracing the crystals and utilizing them as weapons, while others became victims of their destructive force. Governments and military forces struggled to adapt to this new reality, as conventional strategies proved ineffective against crystal-wielding adversaries.
"The world was forever changed," Derrick concluded, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and relief. "I'm just grateful to be back here, away from the chaos. New Dawn City may have its problems, but it pales in comparison to what I witnessed overseas."
His words resonated with me, bringing into focus the importance of perspective. While New Dawn City had its share of challenges, the devastating war in Europe reminded me that there were far worse horrors unfolding in other parts of the world.
As we continued our journey, Derrick and I fell into a contemplative silence, each lost in our thoughts. The impact of the war in Europe weighed heavily on my mind, the realization of the immense changes and dangers that lurked beyond the city's borders. It served as a stark reminder that the struggles we faced in our own lives were just a fraction of the broader conflicts unfolding in the world.
As we arrived at the cemetery, my mom, aunt, and uncle were already waiting. The atmosphere was heavy, the weight of loss palpable. The four of us, Derrick, uncle Luo, uncle Mike, and I, carried my father's casket to its final resting place.
In that moment, standing among the tombstones and the drizzling rain, I held onto the memories of my father and the strength of my loved ones.
My father did not have a large circle of friends, so it was nice to see that a few of them were present. Their presence offered a sense of solace amidst the sea of distant family members. While family was often touted as a pillar of support, my own experience had taught me that trust and dependability were rare commodities.
As we gathered around my father's gravesite, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of emptiness. It was in these moments that I wished for the company of those who had stood by my father's side, even if they existed within the realm of a different world.
"Is Gin still around?" I whispered to Buttons, standing beside me, our eyes fixed on the lowering casket. A sense of nostalgia and longing swirled within me.
Buttons glanced at me with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Ray, Gin's dead," she replied softly.
I should have been shocked, but the reality of a dangerous world numbed my senses. Death was an ever-present companion, claiming lives without remorse. The fate of Gin and his crew didn't surprise me, yet it still weighed heavily on my heart.
The gravity of the situation began to sink in, and I contemplated the course of action that lay ahead. Revenge simmered beneath the surface, fueled by unanswered questions and a thirst for justice. I wanted to confront Gin, to demand answers, but now that opportunity had slipped through my fingers.
"Are you thinking of doing something?" Buttons asked, her voice filled with concern.
I paused, torn between the desire for retribution and the need to protect what remained of my family. "Maybe," I replied, my tone ambiguous yet tinged with determination.
Her eyes searched mine, a mixture of worry and apprehension. "Don't. Just keep your head down, Ray. What would your mom do if you were to meet the same fate?"
Her words struck a chord within me, reminding me of the responsibility I held as a son. I couldn't risk endangering the only family I had left, especially when their well-being depended on my choices. I had witnessed firsthand the pain that loss could inflict, and I couldn't bear to subject my mother to that same agony.
"Relax, Buttons. I was just looking for answers, but since Gin's gone, it seems my questions will remain unanswered," I assured her, attempting to ease her concerns.
She studied me intently, seeing through the facade I had constructed. We knew each other too well to be fooled by empty words and feigned indifference. It was a testament to our shared history, the times we had relied on each other's intuition and vulnerability.
I gazed at the open grave, my father's final resting place, and pondered her question. The weight of my past and the uncertainty of my future collided within me. "I'm just trying not to end up like him," I confessed, my voice tinged with a mix of determination and vulnerability.
The realization of mortality loomed over us, a constant reminder that life was fragile and fleeting. But in that moment, as I stood by my father's grave, I vowed to chart my own path, one that would lead me away from the darkness and towards a semblance of peace. Though death was an inevitability, the choices I made and the legacy I left behind were within my control.
"Everyone dies, you can't change that," Buttons reminded me gently, her words a bittersweet reminder of the transient nature of life.
"I know, and I'm not trying to. I just don't want to be a nobody, have no one around to mourn me."
Buttons looked around at the small crowd gathered at the gravesite. Raindrops cascaded around us, adding a somber atmosphere to the moment. She sighed softly before responding, her voice laced with a mix of understanding and frustration.
"So what, is this not enough? At least he has people here. What do you want, the entire city to be here for you?" she questioned, her tone tinged with exasperation.
I paused, contemplating her words. It was true that my father had loved ones present, individuals who would remember him for who he was. But a part of me yearned for more, for a legacy that extended beyond the confines of a small gathering. I wanted to leave a mark, to be remembered for something significant.
"Why not?" I finally replied, my voice tinged with defiance and longing.
Buttons shook her head, her expression a mix of concern and disbelief. "You have your priorities all messed up, Ray. Your dad has people here who love him and will remember him for who he is. You want people around you that don't give two shits about you and will remember you for what you are or what they think you are? Who do you think will live on longer? Him or you?"
Her words struck a chord within me, forcing me to confront my own misplaced desires. She was right, and deep down, I knew it. Yet, the fire within me refused to be extinguished. I couldn't simply sit back and let someone else handle the problem. It went against my nature, and Buttons understood that better than anyone.
"Buttons, I know. I just need to do something," I admitted, my voice filled with a mixture of determination and restlessness.
Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, we exchanged an unspoken understanding.
"Then come hang with us for a few days. Stop by the school, check in with old friends, just don't do anything stupid," she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of hope.
"Yeah, you're right. I might stop by," I replied, considering her offer. The thought of reconnecting with old friends, of immersing myself in the familiarity of the school environment, held a certain appeal. It could provide a temporary respite from the weight of my current situation.
As we continued to discuss my plans, a sense of clarity began to emerge. I needed this time to gather my thoughts, to strategize my next move upon returning to New Vegas. Buttons had raised a valid point earlier—I lacked trustworthy allies in my current city. But perhaps, in revisiting my past and spending time with familiar faces, I could uncover new leads or gain valuable insights.
But in the midst of our conversation, a realization struck me—I had spent so much time talking about myself and my struggles, I had neglected to inquire about Buttons' own well-being. I shifted my gaze towards her, recognizing the burden she carried beneath her tough exterior.
"Hey, how is your family doing? Little Jenny alright?" I asked, finally addressing the concern I had carried silently.
For a brief moment, Buttons seemed taken aback, her composure faltering. I could see the mask she wore, the forced smile that belied a deeper truth. But she quickly regained her composure, refusing to burden me with her own worries.
"It's fine. Today is about you, don't worry about me, Ray," she replied, her words laced with a hint of evasion.
I knew there was more to her story, that she bore her own struggles and secrets.
Glancing over at where Kiki and Ricky stood, deep in conversation with my mom, I wondered if they held the key to understanding what was going on. Ricky, in particular, had always been straightforward with me. I made a mental note to reach out to Kiki later and see if she could shed some light on Buttons' situation.
Buttons nudged my shoulder, attempting to divert my attention. "Don't think about it, Ray. Everything is fine," she repeated, her words lacking the conviction her eyes betrayed.
"Yeah, alright," I replied, though the uncertainty gnawed at me. It was clear that something troubled her, and as much as I wanted to respect her privacy, I couldn't help but worry. The bond we shared went beyond surface-level friendship, and I couldn't stand idly by while she carried her burdens alone.
But for now, I chose to respect her boundaries and focused on the present moment.