Just as I was planning to walk there, Dad showed up on our front porch, wearing his dark gray overcoat. “You’re home early,” I said. Dad looked me over. “Going to Mrs. McKenzie’s viewing?” I nodded. I’d put on my best pair of pants and a fresh white shirt. I didn’t have a suit, so my navy school blazer and tie would have to do. “Can I come?” he asked. “Sure,” I said. We walked slowly into town together. Dad didn’t know Mr. McKenzie well. I didn’t think he’d ever met his wife. I guess he figured he owed it to him because of all the trouble we’d caused him. Or maybe Dad liked the idea of people in a small town sticking together. Or maybe Dad was just there for me. In any case, I was glad to have him along. When we arrived at the funeral home, Dad went off to speak to Mr. McKenzie. He was talking to someone I thought must have been the cousin from Chicago, since they both had the same burly build and bushy eyebrows.
