CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Father Lonigan read from the good book as the mourners stood with stooped heads by the gravesite where Martha Camp would momentarily be laid to rest. The good Father spoke concerning the loss of such a person and how it would surely have a profound effect upon the community.
Mayor Carver and Chief Hudson each gave illustrious benedictions; touching on how Martha had touched so many of the townsfolks with her good deeds, and charity work for the less fortunate. Both men would later laugh over the lies they told about Martha; for she never made any attempt to aid the poor; nor provided any of her time assisting any kind of charity, unless it benefited her personally.
All-in-all, Father Lonigan gave her a splendid sendoff as Beau Camp’s crying and hysterics would attest. There was a modest turnout; mainly those who professed themselves to being the most devout of Christians. Her casket was of mahogany, with six brass handles adorning the shiny, polished vessel she would spend eternity within.
One hour after Martha Camp was interned six feet under, the funeral for Terri Helms was held. She was laid to rest in the rear section of the cemetery; a placed reserved for the indigent. There were no mourners, no relatives, no friends, no good-hearted Christians there to send her on her way toward the pearly-gates.
Father Lonigan none-the-less spoke from the good book, even though it wasn’t clear if she was Catholic or not, he crossed himself as the grave-diggers lowered her cheap, wooden-framed, unlined coffin into the hot, dry dirt. Amen.