Cafe Hitch-hike


We're here, Baby, we're here.

My sis Beads arrived in Florida this morning with her son. They will be here for either a week or 10 days, and will stay with our brother in Tampa. She is determined to get her daughter's remains back and to take them back to the hometown.

This past Thursday and Friday, things just about fallen off the rails. As if losing her only daughter to a violent crime wasn't bad enough, she had to endure logistical fuckery (nothing to do with the Orlando PD). Some outsiders also talked too damn much and stuck their noses into places they didn't belong, and caused some serious drama. Beads also wasn't getting square answers about her daughter's remains or their arrangements for being handled. She decided to come down and kick down some doors if she had to if it would help her get her kid home. The fundraising site we set up for B. made it possible.

At first, Big Momma and I weren't so sure about this, but once we talked it over, we agreed she should come down. Maybe if the medical examiner, detective, and cremation lady actually saw and talked to Beads in person, it could get things moving. The Thanksgiving holiday is in a few more days and things slow down, but at least Beads will be around for a few more days in case things take that long.

BM was also feeling some burnout. I told her she could tap out for the time Beads is down here, and our brother Deebo (mostly him) and I will look after her. Deebo and our cousin Drew live together, and B. is very close with them.

We will having a Thanksgiving meal together at their place and in the same manner we did last year. The guys will get the turkey, rolls, and desserts (low-level stuff that only requires refrigeration and a purchase), and I supply the (mostly homemade) side dishes. Everything will be pre-made so all we'll need to do it reheat it in the over. We'll probably watch the Detroit Lions get killed by the Green Bay Packers as usual, and we'll have the smell of turkey and Grandma Edie's stuffing to help us forget about that loss.

B. broadcasted her arrival in the airport. The family recently discovered a low-cost airline that provides direct flights from their region to the west coast of Florida (where all the midwesterners settle when they move here). She's never flown, and doesn't even like roller coasters or carnival rides, but was willing to do it so she can get Arielle back. B. looks like she's aged at least 10 years. I've never seen her eyes look the way they did: a mix of intense sadness and and tired from crying too many tears.

If all goes well in the next few days, a bunch of forms will be signed. I'll send some money to the cremation company to get it done; I'll also get reimbursed through a victim's service that provides compensation for-- cases like my niece's. Hopefully, my sister Ms. B. will be able to return to the hometown with Arielle's remains, and feel some relief from that and spending a little time with us in the sunshine.

Beads concluded her broadcast, as she walked into the airport, "we're here, Baby, we're here."

downwind | upstream