The Funeral of Moofi Rizzo

The sky was heavy, dark with clouds that seemed to press down on the earth like a weight too great to bear. Rain fell in thick sheets, pouring relentlessly, soaking the grass, the trees, and the rows of black umbrellas that dotted the cemetery like dark flowers blooming in the mud. The air was cold and wet, and the wind carried the scent of rain and earth.

Bella wore a black dress. Simple, no jewelry, no adornment. Her face was bare of any makeup, her hair pulled back in a low, tight bun. She looked pale, tired and older than her years.

Leo stood beside her, his face expressionless. He wore a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. His gray eyes were fixed on the casket in the distance but Bella could see the tension in his jaw and the tightness in his shoulders.

He opened a large black umbrella and held it over both of them. The rain drummed against the fabric in a steady, mournful rhythm. He helped her out of the car, his hand on her elbow, guiding her across the wet grass.

Bella’s flats were soaked within seconds. She did not care.

She looked around. Mourners were scattered across the cemetery, including guards from Leo’s team, friends of Moofi, and a few faces she did not recognize. They stood in clusters, talking in low voices, their breath fogging in the cold air.

But her eyes caught on two figures standing near the front.

A young boy, maybe eleven years old. He stood straight, his shoulders back, his chin lifted. He wore a black suit that was slightly too large for him. His face was pale, his eyes red, but he was not crying. He just stared at the casket, his expression blank.

Beside him, a smaller boy, maybe five years old. He held his brother’s hand, his tiny fingers wrapped around the older boy’s palm. He wore black pants and a black sweater and his hair was messy, wet from the rain. He kept looking around at the people, the umbrellas, and the gray sky.

Bella’s heart clenched.

Leo had told her their names. The older one was Jordan. The younger one was Milo.

So young, she thought. Both of them are so young.

The rain fell harder. The wind picked up.

Jordan did not move. He just stood there, staring at the casket, his brother’s hand in his.

Milo tugged at Jordan’s sleeve. His voice was small and confused. "Jordy. Where is Moofi?"

Jordan did not answer.

Milo tugged again. "Jordy. Where did he go?"

Jordan’s young voice was rough, barely holding together. "He is gone, Milo."

Milo looked around, searching. "Did he go to work?"

"No."

"Did he go to the store?"

"No."

"Then where?"

Jordan’s lip trembled. "He died, Milo."

Milo’s forehead wrinkled. He did not understand. "What does that mean?"

"It means he is not coming back."

Milo was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "But I want him to come back."

"I know."

"I want to show him my new drawing. I drew a dinosaur, our favourite t-rex."

Jordan’s eyes filled with tears. "He would have loved it."

Milo tugged Jordan’s sleeve again. "Can we call him? Maybe he forgot to come back."

Jordan’s voice cracked. "We cannot call him."

"Why not?"

"Because he cannot answer."

Milo’s face became sad. He did not understand why, but he could see that Jordan was hurting. "Jordy, are you crying?"

Jordan wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "No."

"Yes you are. Your face is wet."

"It is the rain."

Milo looked up at the sky. Rain fell on his cheeks. He wiped them with his hand. "Oh."

Silence.

Milo looked at the casket. "What is that box?"

"It is where Moofi is."

"In the box?" Milo’s eyes widened. "He is going to be cold in there. We should get him out."

Jordan pulled Milo closer, wrapping his arm around him. "We cannot."

"Why not?"

"Because he is not really in there. Not anymore."

Milo did not understand. He leaned his head against Jordan’s arm. "Is Moofi coming to tuck me in tonight?"

Jordan’s voice was barely a whisper. "No, Milo. He is not."

Milo’s lower lip pushed out. "But he promised. He promised he would tuck me in every night."

Jordan squeezed him tighter. "I will tuck you in. I will do it."

"But you are not Moofi."

"I know." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Milo’s eyes filled with tears. "I want Moofi."

"I know."

"I want him now."

Jordan could not hold it together anymore. Tears streamed down his face. "I want him too."

Milo saw his brother crying and started crying as well, even though he did not fully understand why. He just knew that something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He wrapped his small arms around Jordan’s leg and buried his face in his brother’s pants.

"Jordy," he sobbed. "I am scared."

Jordan knelt down and hugged him tight. "Do not be scared. I have got you."

"Is Moofi scared?"

Jordan swallowed hard. "No. Moofi is not scared anymore."

"Where did he go?"

Jordan looked up at the gray sky. "Somewhere better."

Milo looked up too. The rain fell on his face. He waved his little hand at the clouds.

"Bye, Moofi," he said. "I will be good. I promise."

Then he looked at Jordan. "Can we go home now? I am cold."

Jordan nodded. He took Milo’s hand and led him away from the casket.

They walked together through the rain, two small figures, one holding the other.

Milo looked back once. "Jordy, is Moofi coming later?"

Jordan did not answer. He just kept walking.

Bella’s eyes burned. She pressed her hand to her mouth.

Leo stood beside her silently. His hand was on her back.

"He knew the risks," Leo said quietly.

Bella’s voice was barely a whisper. "That does not make it easier."

Leo was silent for a moment. Then he said, "No. It does not."

The rain kept falling. The mourners were starting to leave, walking slowly back to their cars, their umbrellas bobbing like dark flowers in the gray. The priest closed his book and stepped away from the casket. The gravediggers waited in the distance, patient and respectful.

Bella watched Jordan and Milo walk away. The older boy had his arm around his little brother, guiding him through the mud.

"Can we meet them?" Bella asked.

Leo looked at her. He hesitated. His jaw tightened. His gray eyes flickered with something she could not read.

"I cannot?" Bella asked, seeing his expression.