Page 23 of Dial A for Aunties

“I mean, this isn’t a funeral, technically. We’re not doing any burial rites or anything.”

Eyes shining, Ma snaps her fingers and points at me. “Meddy is correct. We just don’t bury body now. We—maybe we put him in freezer? Then on Monday, after wedding, we can bury body.”

Fourth Aunt blanches. “Uh, hang on, I didn’t mean—”

Big Aunt nods. “Okay, it sound good.”

Second Aunt chews her lip, hesitating, and Big Aunt glares at her. “And anyway,” Big Aunt says, “since hotel owner die, wedding probably cancel tomorrow, when he not show up. So we be back early, then we bury body.”

With that, they resume walking toward the garage, Fourth Aunt leading the charge, Second Aunt being pushed along by Ma, me trailing at the back.

“Ah, you leave light on,” Big Aunt says, walking through the back door into the garage.

“Yes, dead body cannot be in the dark,” Ma says.

Big Aunt nods. “Yes, good thinking.”

“More superstitious BS,” Fourth Aunt mutters.

“Just wait until you see what Meddy do to the body. She was very respectful,” Ma says.

I can’t believe she’s taking this moment to boast about me being respectful. This is peak Asian parenting.

We all crowd around the trunk of the car. My breath catches, my chest painfully tight, not enough room for my lungs to expand and take in air. I think I might faint. As though sensing my near-panic, Ma pats my arm before opening the trunk.

And there he is, just as I left him, lying in there with his long legs bent, knees at his waist, the hoodie covering his face. There is a mix of noises from my aunts—Big Aunt is tch-tching and shaking her head, muttering, “This what happen when parents don’t raise the son well,” Fourth Aunt is staring openmouthed with what I can only describe as horrified glee, and Second Aunt is...

“What are you doing, Second Aunt?”

She hardly glances at me as she goes into a deep lunge. “Snake Creeps Through the Grass,” she mutters.

“What?”

“She doing Tai Chi,” Ma says. “Doctor tell her do it for high blood pressure.”

“Uh. Okay.” I suppose we all have our ways of dealing with stress.

Fourth Aunt reaches toward the hoodie, and Ma smacks her hand.

“Ow! What?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ma demands.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want to see his face!”

“Aiya! You so disrespectful. People already dead, you want to see his face for what?”

“She’s right, Mimi,” Big Aunt says, gently. “We try not to disturb him too much.”

I have to turn away from the body. The sight of it brings back the trauma of the accident, and I can’t stop seeing flashes of Jake, again and again. Of him smiling, his hand on my knee. Now his hands are lying limply against his hips.

“Now what?” Second Aunt says, going through her Tai Chi moves a lot faster than they call for. “This boy so tall. How we get rid of him?” She shudders before going into a different pose with arms outstretched. “Maybe we can chop him up, cook some curry, then throw away bit by bit?”

“That’s a lot of curry,” Fourth Aunt says.

My stomach lurches. Calm. Down. They’re not being serious. They’re not. They’re just being their usual selves. Their usualmurderyselves. What is going on right now?! Maybe one of the Chinese dramas they’re always watching is a crime show. Or maybe this is a mom thing: once you have a kid, you lose the ability to be truly shocked by anything. I mean, this is not normal, right?Right?

“No curry,” Big Aunt scolds. Second Aunt glares at her.

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