The cemetery was located three miles out of town on County Road 4-East. The road curved to the north and into the cemetery. The gravel road led around the back of the cemetery and connected to three other roads that led out. Situated on the west side of the cemetery was a beautiful old stone church. A small crowd gathered around a purple tent and golden brown casket. A gentle breeze blew across the cemetery but it was going to be a humid day. The funeral was for Larry Shamus who had lived in Williamsburg, New Jersey for most of his life and lived in a white Victorian-style house on Nursery Street with his wife, Irene; youngest son Joe and daughter Nicki. Larry's oldest son, Harold, sat next to his brother and mother, wiping tears from his eyes.
Harold was a successful certified public accountant for Jackson Accounting and worked there with his best friend, Adam Barry. Harry's brother, Joe, was a sleepy-eyed twenty-something who still lived at home. Joe worked at CAAF Oil Refinery and although he liked his job, he still wanted more. His best friend, Buddy Culver, encouraged him to find something better but Joe never followed through. Nicki was just a year away from graduating from high school and she was the one falling apart.
Behind Larry's immediate family was Harry's wife and kids. His wife, Marilyn, was an attorney in the Preston-Searl law office. She finished college and law school all while raising their first three children, Myrna, Benjamin and Holly. Myrna was a very beautiful and tall girl with wide brown eyes and a childish smile. Ben was about to start college and was admittedly the most mature of the five children. He was twins with Holly, who wasn't at the funeral, and they looked exactly alike except Holly's hair was straighter and had a long, more feminine chin.
The other children at the funeral were Brandon and Lindsay. Brandon had unruly shoulder-length brown hair and was a gifted student at Williamsburg High School but chose to stay in mostly regular classes except for Social Ebonics, which was taught by Amy Kensington, and focused on many aspects of the world and its cultures. Lindsay was a quiet girl in junior high but had Lena's perfect beauty. After doing as little as possible to graduate from high school, Holly moved in with her boyfriend, Dean Trolick, and essentially estranged herself from her family.
The funeral wore on and came to an end. The Shamus family proceeded back to the family house where close family friends had set up a buffet table full of the food given to the Shamus family. Dr Arnold Fish was Harry's next door neighbor and a popular gynecologist. He was always there for Harry, Marilyn or any of the kids. Mariska Nodell was a lawyer with Marilyn and the law firm and had known Marilyn since law school. Soon the house was filled with distant relatives and mourners who offered condolences and stories about Larry.
As the hardest worker of all, the sun, lowered in the western sky creating an orange-purple haze, the Shamus family was looking through photos and a foot locker that Larry kept in the garage. Joe finished emptying out the locker and looked around confused.
“What's wrong?” Irene asked.
“Where's Dad's old high school stuff? I wanted to look through his yearbooks,” Joe replied.
“I think it's all in the old trunk down in the cellar,” Irene recollected.
“I'll go down and look,” and with that, Joe bounded away to the cellar door in the kitchen.
Nicki stood up and walked over to Irene and placed her hand softly on her mother's shoulder. “Mom? Isn't it in that trunk?”
“Oh my. Yes it is. Well, don't worry. It's been almost ten years, surely that thing won't have that much control over him after all this time,” Irene reassured but there was some doubt in her voice.
Down in the cellar, Joe pulled the string to turn on the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The old trunk was tucked away in the corner covered by a small pile of useless keepsakes: an old easel, three pairs of beyond-repair overalls and, for some reason, a map of Germany.
Back upstairs. “What are you talking about?” Brandon asked. “Does Uncle Joe have a hideous deformed brother?”
“No, Brandon,” Harry began. “When Joe was seven, he didn't have many friends and therefore he created one.”
“Oh! So he has an imaginary friend?” Brandon queried.
“Not exactly …” Harry said haltingly.
In the cellar, Joe pulled an old football jersey out of the trunk and unfolded it to look at it. A sock fell to the ground. The sock had two big black buttons sewn on for eyes. “Oh my God,” Joe said in a hushed voice as he bent down to pick up the sock. “I haven't seen this in years,” Joe slid the sock on his hand, looked at it and smiled.
