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Jack walked casually over to the phone.
"Hello."
"Yes."
"Who is it?' said Mary.
"Tomachun."
"What does he want?"
Jack held the phone against his chest to answer.
"It's about someone called Patros Saviour. He died and Tomachun expects us to go to the funeral. Who
is he?"
"That's the fellow at the wedding. The one you wanted to throw out."
Jack had turned around and was listening intently to Tomachun's slow precise English and trying not to get angry. It wasn't Tomachun's fault that the Saviour fellow had been drunk and a pest. Mary could see Jack's shoulders tighten and his elbows jerking. It was a frozen moment.
When Jack hung up he turned to Mary and said, "Bloody relatives, Bloody obligations."
"What was that all about?"
"That Saviour fellow was a heavy drinker. He died in his sleep."
"Just as well you didn't punch him at the wedding. He probably would have died then." Jack nodded.
"Tomachun said that as a male member of the community, I'm obliged to attend the funeral."
"That's right, you're part of the Malayalee Community now," said Mary.
"He was such a pest at the funeral. No way I'm going to his bloody funeral."
The phone rang again. Jack was still standing beside and reached out.
"Hello again," he said when he heard Tomachun's voice again.
He held out the phone to Mary and said, "It's Tomachun for you."
"He keeps apologising for interrupting our honeymoon," said Jack.
"When is his funeral," Mary asked.
Two voices replied. "This afternoon at four in Our Lady of Lourdes Church."
"That's between Roche Canal and Arab Street, isn't it? Near the thieves market, isn't it?"
Mary was too busy listening to Tomachun's laboured explanations to respond.
Jack sat down and began eating." All of this just when we were about to eat," he thought. Mary turned to look at Jack and nodded.
"Uncle Victor will be shamed if we don't attend," she said, as she hung up the phone. Mention of Uncle Victor and the thought of going to the Thieves Market swung it. "OK, we'll go then," he said, "but only for Uncle Victor and for Tomachun."
It was a cloudy Wednesday afternoon and the humidity was rising when they got to the church. Jack noticed the stale rotting smell from the canal.
Tomachun came over and greeted them both warmly and Uncle Victor, though quite formal, smiled. About twenty men from the Roman Catholic Malayalee Community were gathered in the courtyard in front of the church talking quietly. They were dressed in sober grey suits. Several people came to greet Jack and Mary. Faces Jack had only vaguely recalled from the wedding. Jack had only met Tomachun and Uncle Victor at the wedding for that matter. There were some family groups and the women smiled shyly.
The priest, a tall thin Eurasian father appeared at the front door and announced that the coffin was open should anyone wish to view the body. Some people went up to peer at Saviour. As Jack and Mary moved past, neither of them looked at the corpse, but Jack read the silver name plate on the lid with interest:
PATROS ANDREW JOSEPH SAVIOUR
Taped pipe organ music played a Josquin transcription softly as the group seated themselves. Periodically, people bobbed up and down to kneel or reach forward to collect the "order of service" which was expensively printed and embossed.
"They'll send one of these to all the friends and relatives in India." said Mary as she leaned briefly on her new husband.
The front of the church looked like a mud wall painted with frescos. "This is an exact replica of the church in France," she said. "That's where miracles happen."
Jack looked over at the open coffin and thought grimly, "I hope there is no miracle here today." He kept looking at the coffin, half expecting a head to pop up and say something.
Jack had to have lessons on faith from the priest at the Cathedral they had been allowed to marry in the church He told the holy Catholic father that he didn't believe a word of it and that he liked the Buddhist ideas better. Despite the differences they had lively and interesting discussions about the meaning of life and death.
Jack sat through the whole service in a day dream. is eyes wandered around and he studied the backs of heads, the wall in front, and kept returning his attention to the open casket. Mary was busy standing, sitting, kneeling, doing the sign of the cross and talking in Latin or English as required by the order of service. She only lifted her head to look at Jack when the blessings were done.
The pall bearers carried the coffin unevenly from the church. One man was a good bit taller than the others. Two others carried the lid with the silver name plate. The rest of the congregation followed on to the concrete courtyard. It was quite bare. Not even a potted palm. Jack and Mary went through the side door. The sun had penetrated the clouds. The light was good. They stopped in surprise and nearly walked into the photographer who had his back to them.
The men of the Malayalee Catholic Community in Singapore were lined up formally staring towards them in solemn concentration. "Patros Andrew Joseph Saviour" was standing with them inside his coffin, dressed in a grey suit. His tie was green with yellow flecks. In fact it was the best and brightest tie. A pall bearer stood on each side of the coffin leaning towards the camera. They had hands on top of the coffin and hands in the centre of Saviour's chest and belly to keep him erect. The tall pall bearer stood looking over the top of the coffin. The lid was held in front of the group so that the silver name plate was clearly visible. It was Saviour's moment of glory.
"They'll be sending the photo back to his widow and the family in India," Mary said quietly. Jack turned towards her and rolled his eyes.
It was a day of miracles after all.