The dead live on the far side of town. None of the trains go far enough east, so I had to walk the 2 miles from June Station where the Old Train turns to go back to the city. It’s so the dead can’t walk back into the city. They’re safer like this. They designed it like that, the Developers. They made everything with the “Greater Good” in mind, or at least that’s what my primer school teacher Ms. Loralyn told the class when Kerria asked about why the walls were so tall. The “Greater Good” was explained as if it was paved into the streets, like it would make all of our questions go away: just a click of the ruby red “Greater Good” and you’ll be home in no time!

The Greater Good wasn’t all that great when you’re walking two miles to go see a dead person.

My grandmother has been dead for about two years now, and every Thursday I hike up that hill from June Station to go visit her. She’s always waiting in her room, dark brown eyes only sharper with the wrinkles around them. She is sitting across from her casket when I reach her room on the third floor. “Look at it, Briony, look at this.” Her lips are pouted as she points to a tear on the lining of the coffin’s interior. “I swear, it’s been only two years from the funeral and it’s already gone and broke itself. Now I’ve outlived my husband and my casket.” She stormed across the room and closed the door behind me.
“It’s a casket G, it doesn’t need to look pretty.” I really didn’t see what she was so worked up about.
“I didn’t get any respect while I living,” she slammed her hand on her small coffee table. “And now I get no respect when I’m dead.” She looked around her barren room until she found me. “Where’s your Mama anyway? I sure didn’t get any respect from that one. Nuh-uh.” She sat down heavily on the only other chair in her apartment.

“G, you know how she is.” Here I was again, it always came back to this. Usually this line would calm her and my grandmother would just lean back in her chair and nod and tell me a story of my mother’s total disregard for her Mama. But it didn’t this time.
“Oh, I know how she is. Life’s just so easy over in that big city of hers.” G washed the City off her hands. “Life’s just so easy, now that her Mama’s dead.” She laughed but her eyes were hard. “Look over here, there’s a coffin and everything. Done deal.” She patted the coffin amiably.

“But to her you are dead. You saw how she was at the funeral.” I could barely choke out the defensive words, but it was my mother we were talking about.

“The funeral. Sure, she was crying buckets.” She rolled her eyes and continued. “I remember, back in my grandmother’s day they didn’t have the funeral until the person was actually dead. Nah- that was my birthday, don’t you know? I lived my 80 years and now I’m here.”

“That’s the way they made it. For the Greater Good.” I really believed that, I was nothing without the Greater Good to turn the Old Train at June Station and take me home.

“The Greater Good, as if. It’s just to make it easy for people like your Mama living up in the city. It’s easy to forget that I’m up here, now that there’s nowhere for me to go.” The way she said easy made it feel harsh, like it was a sin to live like that.

“Your Mama cried and cried, yes she did. She was there, with her paid day off from whatever city job she’s working nowadays. She was prepared, she had it easy. With my gravestone already carved and in the ground. It wasn’t like that with your Grandfather. He died before he was supposed to, he died so that it wasn’t easy for anybody.”
This was the first time G had ever mentioned my grandfather. “I remember them city men telling me it was some sort of anomaly. Like that was supposed to make it easy for me. But it wasn’t easy.” She went to her dresser and dug through it until she found a piece of paper. She held it up to show me a cut out list of the obituary. Her name was halfway down the long list of names.
“They didn’t put his name in the paper. For the Greater Good, they told me. So it was easy for the people. So the people like your Mama could have it easy. Forget about me, it was all for this Greater Good you keep going on about.”

G sat back down, like she was carrying weights on her shoulders. I looked out the window, where I could see the June Station in the distance. “Is that why I have to walk so far?” I ask the window instead of her. I couldn’t bear to see those brown eyes staring at me from under the charade of wrinkles.
“Yes Briony, so it’s easy to forget us. To let that train turn you around and go back to the city.” I nodded, “But I haven’t let it turn me around yet.” I hoped that maybe something of the Greater Good still existed, that I wasn’t just a girl in love with the idea of the world being easy.

“Tell that Mama of yours that I’m not dead, tell her to ignore the dates on the gravestone. Tell her that her Mama ain’t gone yet. That I’m not gone ‘til I’m in the ground.” G looked up at me, tears only making her brown eyes stronger.

“Tell her not to turn around at June Station with all the others. Tell her that life isn’t easy like she pretends it is.”