They Stole My Grandmother's Coffin for a Wedding Bed

The next day, the uncle brought Homer back to the village early.

The courtyard of the new wedding house was packed with relatives and neighbors.

The burial casket still sat in the middle of the master bedroom.

Red cloth was draped over it, with a thick mattress laid on top.

Gold wedding decorations covered the carved longevity patterns on the coffin lid.

The uncle bragged about it to everyone who came.

This was a hundred-and-sixty-thousand-dollar solid-wood marriage bed.

Relatives crowded around it taking photos, saying the eldest grandson was using burial wood to press good fortune into the marriage.

It would add years to the old woman's life, they said, and it would guarantee the Pruitt family a son.

The moment the lawyer and I walked in, the voices in the courtyard dropped low.

The uncle pointed at me and pronounced his verdict in front of everyone.

"This burial wood belongs to the Pruitt family."

"Homer is the eldest grandson. Using it for a few days before the wedding is a rule the ancestors left us."

"Tessa made a scene in the wedding room over money, got Homer hurt, and now she wants to sue her own uncle."

Several of the older relatives blocked the doorway and would not let me near the casket.

One said the red cloth had already been laid over the coffin, so it could not be carried out until after the wedding.

Another said if I insisted on taking it away, I was cutting off Homer's bloodline.

The aunt helped Homer into the middle of the crowd.

"Homer, tell everyone."

"Wasn't it Tessa who barged into the wedding room and made you fall from up high?"

Homer's face was still a little pale.

He looked at the uncle, then at the marriage bed covered by the red cloth.

"You're all saying this is old wood from the family home that nobody wanted?"

The uncle answered fast.

"Of course."

"You used to play on it when you were little."

"Later Tessa insisted she'd bought it."

Homer said nothing.

He walked into the wedding room and grabbed a corner of the red cloth.

The aunt rushed to block him.

"Once the red cloth is on, it can't come off. Taking it off ruins the luck!"

The relatives at the door joined in.

"Seeing a coffin before a wedding is bad luck!"

"Whatever you've got to say, say it after the wedding's done!"

Homer raised his arm and pushed the aunt aside.

The red cloth was torn back all at once.

The whole body of the casket came into full view.

On the inner side, gold lacquer spelled out Grandmother's name and birth date.

Beside it was the custom order number from the woodworking workshop.

Below the gold wedding characters, the longevity carvings had been punched clean through with long nails.

The people crowded at the door all stepped back together.

Someone covered their mouth.

Someone spat on the ground and muttered about the bad luck.

But it did not take long for someone to shove the blame onto me.

"Tessa's the one who had to pull it off in front of everyone. That's what let the bad luck out."

"The coffin's already in the wedding room. Carrying it away now would only wreck Homer's fate worse."

The uncle forced his smile back.

"You hear that?"

"Everyone understands the rules. You're the only one who has to make trouble."

Homer stared at the name on the casket.

"Didn't you say this was old wood?"

The uncle's smile stopped for a second.

"Your head's not right yet. Don't worry about all this."

He reached out to pull the red cloth back over it.

"Hurry up and tell everyone whether Tessa's the one who got you hurt."

Homer dodged his hand.

The uncle's voice dropped.

"Homer, I'm your father."

"You know what you're supposed to say."

Everyone in the courtyard was watching them.

The old Homer would cave the instant the uncle so much as frowned.

The uncle was clearly waiting for it too.

The look of a man holding a winning hand came back onto his face.

He even threw a glance at the relatives blocking the door.

But Homer did not go to him.

He looked at Grandmother's name on the casket.

Then he looked at the bruises still fading on my arm.

The uncle reached out to pull him to his side.

Homer flung that hand off hard and turned, putting himself between me and the casket.

"Tessa didn't take anything from anyone."

"You're the ones who pried the lock in the middle of the night and stole the burial casket she spent a hundred and sixty thousand on for Grandmother. And now you want to force me to frame her in front of the whole village."

He looked up at the uncle and aunt and said it one word at a time.

"Dad, Mom, you're the thieves."

"I only trust Tessa."

"Every single word out of your mouths, I don't believe!"