Not including James, the death toll rested at six. Marie Del’Amici, shot in the chest and head, lingered three days in a coma and died Wednesday. Her husband had her body cremated and took the ashes back to Italy. Likewise, Allison Pierce’s body had been flown home to Indiana for burial.
The remaining victims were Pennsylvanians and Erik and David went together to pay their respects. Neither of them owned a decent suit, so Christine took them shopping. Groomed down to the shoelaces, they went on Thursday to Trevor King’s wake in Allentown. The next day—on what should have been opening night of the dance concert—they went to South Philly and attended Manuel Sabena’s funeral in the morning, Aisha Johnson’s in the afternoon. Will, finally discharged from the hospital, came to Aisha’s as well, his arm in a sling, his hair brushed back into its ponytail by Lucky.
Taylor Revell’s funeral, on Saturday in Narberth, was the hardest. Daisy desperately wanted to go but her incisions were still open and she was confined to the hospital. Erik said he would go for both of them. He didn’t want to. He was sick to his stomach over it, thinking of how Taylor had switched roles with Daisy. A simple act of goodwill and she signed her own death warrant. What did you say to acknowledge such cruel, karmic events?
“Thank you”?
“I’m sorry”?
Words were useless.
He sat in the pew of the church, bolstered by Christine on one side and Will on the other, needing their bodies pressed right up against his arms. David and the Biancos sat in front of him. Behind were Leo Graham and his wife, and Kees with his lover, Anton. Safe at the center of this battle formation, Erik got through the funeral service. They drove back to Colby Street but he could not get out of the car. Hunched over in the passenger seat, his body refused to move. He didn’t cry. He felt quite calm. But the reserves were depleted. He was an old, weary man. It took the combined effort of David and Leo to get him back inside where he fell on his bed, still in suit and tie, and slept.
Christine made one of her rare executive decisions and declared she was taking him home. Erik was grateful to regress into a childish state, let her take charge and pull him out of school.
It wasn’t as dire as it sounded. Only five weeks remained in the semester but the vice-chancellor of student affairs made a blanket ruling: anyone affected by the shooting could take an incomplete on their spring semester coursework and pick it up in the fall, with no loss of tuition dollars.
Even though Will was taking the incomplete and going home, Lucky decided to stay and finish her finals. David chose to stay as well, although he was crushed by the loss of his senior project. With a heavy heart he watched his treasured sets for Who Cares? dismantled and put into the storage room. Leo declared the project complete and David could graduate. But David was unfinished and unsatisfied with a sympathy degree. He deferred graduation and planned to come back in the fall and do at least another semester. Leo pledged to support him.
A community network came together to send Erik and Will home. The landlord guaranteed the apartment to them in the fall. U-Hauls were provided free of charge. A squadron of stagehands, led by Leo, showed up at Colby Street to help Erik, Christine and the Kaegers pack up the boys’ belongings. Briskly they sorted out what was necessary to take and what could be left behind in storage at Mallory Hall. The crew made the apartment spotless, then went across the backyard to help the Biancos extricate Daisy from Jay Street.