Crazy Cornelius & the Magic Pills Ch. 08

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Now the dysfunctional Hawkins family road trip has come to a shattering end, what will happen to them now they are back to reality and famous not only in Australia but overseas too. Will they get back to normal, well as normal as can be for such a dysfunctional family? Or does is there one final twist in this very strange tale?

Read the 8th & final chapter of this story series to find out. Take note of the strong adult themes and content that might not be to every readers' taste. All characters and events depicted are fictional, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. Please enjoy and rate and comment.

*

The day of Alistair Hawkins' funeral -- a Friday - dawned bright and sunny across Sydney, but in the Hawkins house Faye felt as gloomy as the darkest night on the coldest and wettest day in winter. Had Alistair died from natural causes such as a stroke or heart attack then it would have been hard enough, but to actually see Alistair simply vanish into a furnace of flames with no source, every part of him consumed apart from his lower right leg and foot with his clothes sporting not even singe marks was just overwhelming for the widow.

Adding to the despair was the relentless intense media coverage the Hawkins family had been subjected to following the bizarre road trip that culminated in the death of the father, who exploded in a rare case of spontaneous human combustion in front of many witnesses in Hyde Park. It seemed that every media outlet in Australia was providing round the clock coverage of the events, and it was big news in other countries too. Still, Faye tried to put on a brave face and donned a black dress, hat, stockings and shoes to farewell her husband and the father of their three children. Bracing herself, the petite red-haired widow knocked on the door to the granny flat where eldest son Brendan hid.

"Brendan, it's your father's funeral today," Faye pleaded. "Please get dressed and come with us to the chapel." No answer. Faye continued. "Brendan please, come out and come with us, the car is on its way." Still nothing. "Brendan, it is very important to me and the rest of the family that you be there today to farewell your father. Cornelius and Erica will be there, you need to be too."

Her pleas were met with the same stony silence. It was the same when they had arrived home -- Brendan found hiding in the roof space drinking his own urine after hiding up there for over a day from the police forensic teams who had secured the property as a crime scene - and Faye had tried to talk to Brendan in person about his father's mysterious and tragic death in Hyde Park. Brendan had refused to come out to see his mother and it was left to Erica to write a note to her older brother advising him that their father was deceased. Brendan had not reacted to the note, either personally or by writing something down on a piece of paper and sliding it under the door.

"He won't come out," Faye lamented to Erica as she and Gavin stood behind her.

Erica, wearing a black dress, stockings and shoes, gave her mother a reassuring hug. "It's okay, Mum. He probably was never going to come out, even for Dad's funeral."

"It was worth a try," sniffed Faye, her eyes watering, Gavin pulling some tissues from the top pocket of his suit pocket and handing them to his girlfriend's mother, who used them to wipe her tears away. "Thanks Gavin."

Minus Brendan, the Hawkins family waited for the car to arrive to take them to the funeral home, where they would then follow the hearse to the cemetery in the Ryde area. There was Faye of course, along with Erica and Gavin, and Cornelius and Danielle. Like Faye and Erica Danielle wore a black dress. Gavin wore a smart dark suit with a black tie and Cornelius a dark suit and tie too, although somehow he managed to make it look scruffy.

One bright light over the past ten days -- Alistair's funeral delayed due to the involvement of the NSW Coroner's Office as it was an unusual and suspicious death -- had been the funeral directors, who had done a marvelous job and a picture of professionalism working with an unusual family in a very high profile and very unusual death.

The large black funeral company limousine pulled into the street and drew up alongside Number 9, the family climbing into it to go to the funeral home where Alistair's body lay in state pending the funeral. Well that was supposed to be the case, but with Alistair a victim of spontaneous human combustion most of the job had already been done and all that remained of him -- his right leg below the knee -- had been cremated since then. As it was Alistair's ashes were already in an urn, which in turn was in a small wooden coffin usually used to farewell babies and small children who died prematurely.

Approaching the funeral home, a second limousine pulled in for the Hawkins funeral and Faye cringed as she saw the wheelchair on a special hoist on the roof of this car. She knew whose wheelchair this was and she cringed even more at the sight and sound of the woman who occupied it -- Mrs. Edna Hawkins -- Alistair's mother.

Faye hadn't wanted her mother-in-law at the funeral, she was so far gone it would be doubtful that she would be able to understand what was going on, and depending on her state of mind she would either go straight to sleep with drool running down her face, or far worse be disruptive. However, Alistair's two awful sisters Joan and Patricia who were here with their husbands and Alistair's brother David younger than his late sibling by a year, and just as misanthropic as Alistair had insisted their mother be there. Next to David stood his wife Wilma, who as usual looked like she had been sucking unripe lemons and limes.

The moment Faye stepped out of the limousine it was clear that the Hawkins family matriarch was in one of her disruptive moods. "Get your hands off me!" the old woman spat at a young man from the undertakers who was trying to assist her out of the funeral car and into her wheelchair. "I thought you were a homosexual, but obviously I was wrong. If you're going to be a sex pervert young man, at least do it with girls your own age not a woman in my time of life."

When the bad-tempered old woman was finally out of the car, she said, "I want to see Alistair. At funerals you always get to see the body. It was the same with my husband. Why can't I see Alistair and why can't we have an open casket like his father had?"

David Hawkins sighed. "Mum, we've been through this already. Dad had a heart attack, Alistair died in a fire, you can't have open coffins for burns victims, it's too upsetting."

Edna Hawkins snorted in derision. "How did Alistair die in a fire? Serves him right if he was playing with matches again. Silly man."

Granny Hawkins thankfully seemed to fall asleep in her wheelchair and it was up to her remaining son to push her into the funeral home. All was pretty much standard except of course for the family being unable to see the body, and Erica and Faye signed some necessary paperwork as an undertaker carried Alistair's coffin out of the funeral home to go into the hearse, the young man admonished by the Hawkins family matriarch a wreath of flowers.

Despite the fact their sister-in-law was clearly distressed at seeing her late husband's coffin carried out to a hearse and was being comforted by her daughter and daughter's boyfriend, perpetually squabbling sisters Patricia and Joan chose this moment to get into a spat, carrying on like seagulls fighting over a chip on the beach while their useless husbands stood by and did nothing as usual.

"So Mrs. Hawkins we'll get you into your cars and follow the lead car down to the cemetery in Ryde," said Christine to Faye, a lady from the funeral company who had been a God-send with arranging the funeral.

Faye nodded in acknowledgement, wiping her eyes with tissues. "Thank you Christine."

"And I should warn you, the people at the cemetery let us know that there's a bit of a media contingent waiting down there, so be prepared as we drive in," Christine warned them.

"I expected as much," sighed Faye. Nine days after the family returned from their strange road trip and her husband had died her family were still all over the news, both in Australia and around the world.

Cornelius seemed angered by the presence of the media, with whom he seemed to have developed something of a personal war. "I'll tell them to fuck off!" he yelled.

"No Cornelius, you just keep quiet and ignore them," warned Faye.

The funeral company staff and David Hawkins were attempting to get Edna Hawkins out of her wheelchair and into the car, and while the old woman was clearly still aware that she was at a funeral she had clearly forgotten whose funeral she was attending.

"Where's Alistair?" she demanded, her harsh voice carrying. "Why isn't he here with the rest of the family? Just like him to be late. Typical. He never thinks of anybody but himself."

Erica spoke to her grandmother in a soft, reassuring voice. "Granny, you know Dad is travelling in the hearse."

"The hearse?" demanded Granny Hawkins. "You silly girl, what on Earth would your father be doing in a hearse? What a retarded thing to say. Only dead people and the undertakers go in the hearse. Don't you have the common-sense you were born with, you stupid little half-wit? Dopey Dora is what your late grandfather and I always called you. No wonder the other kids at school bullied you so much, if you'd gone to school with me and my friends we would have bullied you too."

She looked dispassionately at her granddaughter, and in disapproval as she noted that Erica's black skirt came to above her knees. "Your skirt is way too short for a funeral young lady and is completely inappropriate. Weren't you raised properly or are you just plain stupid like those brothers of yours?"

The old lady's wrath transferred onto her daughter-in-law. "Why didn't you bring up Erica properly Faye? You always were a useless mother. And look how skinny Erica is? Is she anorexic? Or does she have that weird bulimia thing where girls eat too much then make themselves vomit?"

"Granny, I don't have an eating disorder," Erica said in a small voice, Gavin holding her hand to try and reassure her, seeing how emotional she was getting.

"Of course you would say that you little liar," snapped her grandmother. Then in a louder voice the old lady asked, "When was the last time you had a menstrual period, Erica? That's a sure sign that a girl is anorexic or bulimic, they stop menstruating. Faye, have you checked to make sure your daughter is having her period every month? No of course you haven't because you're a bad mother."

"Edna, that's enough," warned Faye, fast losing patience.

"Come on Mum, the hearse is waiting," said David Hawkins. He and the understandably nervous young man from the funeral company tried to get her out of her chair and back into the limousine, but the old lady was still busy diagnosing potential medical reasons for her granddaughter's skinny frame.

"Erica might have intestinal worms Faye," she shouted out. "You need to give that girl a dose of Castor oil and an enema to clean her out and then supervise her while she's on the toilet, checking her feces and the toilet paper she uses for evidence of worms."

Understandably Erica was blushing bright red as she got into the first funeral car with her mother, brother, sister-in-law and boyfriend, and was glad to be away from her grandmother, aunts and uncles who would be in the car behind.

The hearse transporting Alistair with the funeral company staff in the front left the funeral home first, followed by the car with the immediate family and the other car with Granny Hawkins' wheelchair on the roof brought up the rear. The procession made its way through Sydney's northern suburbs and to the cemetery in Ryde, where Alistair's funeral service would be taking place in one of the crematorium chapels.

A large media contingent was waiting outside the cemetery gates, filming and taking photographs as the hearse arrived and pulled in, followed by the two cars. Cornelius was so incensed that he wound down the window and yelled, "Fuck off, cunts!" out the window, giving them the V-sign.

"Cornelius!" warned his mother, but her son didn't seem to be listening and to everyone's horror stood up preparing to pull down his pants to moon the journalists.

Fortunately for once Danielle was acting like a responsible daughter-in-law and prevented this debacle. "Cornelius, sit down and be quiet, this is really hard for your family, don't make it any worse."

Faye glowered at her son as he did up his belt. The last few weeks had been a nightmare and Cornelius had only made things worse, either waging war with the media or treating things like a huge joke. Like when the family were meeting with Christine and Gordon from the funeral company discussing what songs should be played at Alistair's funeral.

Cornelius had amused himself suggesting some songs that were inappropriate in the extreme given his father had died by spontaneous human combustion. One was by American country singer Johnny Cash, another by Elvis Presley and others sang by Bruce Springsteen, the Pointer Sisters, The Trammps, Billy Joel and The Platters were just as inappropriate for a funeral for somebody who had died of fire. Worst of all Cornelius's suggestions was a late 1960s one hit wonder by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, and other songs by ACDC, the Bee Gees, Queen and Kool and the Gang were probably not appropriate for any funeral, and nor was the theme tune for a popular American sitcom from New York that was wrapping up production this year after nine seasons on air. Fortunately though the funeral company people had helped the family come up something more suitable, starting with the hymn 'Old Rugged Cross' at the start.

Outside the rest of the people there for Alistair's funeral were there, holding funeral cards for the service. Gavin looked out the windows of the car and saw his parents, his sister Lisa and her boyfriend Pete. There were the nieces and nephews of Alistair's siblings, other members of the Hawkins family some very old, and from Faye's side her own aging parents, her brother and his wife and kids plus various relatives around Sydney, her sister and brother-in-law having flown in from Adelaide. Also in attendance were Danielle's parents and several sibling from up in Newcastle, Alistair's work colleagues, Faye's boss from work and various friends of Alistair and Faye and the Hawkins family, some of Erica and Gavin's friends there to lend moral support to her having lost her Dad at such a young age and in such bizarre circumstances.

The hearse drew to a stop as did the cars following, and Cornelius and Gavin got out of the front car, David Hawkins out of the back to act as pall-bearers and walk alongside the hearse. There was an uneven number, Faye had held out hope until the last minute that Brendan would change his mind and attend his father's funeral and be a pall-bearer, but when this did not happen it was left to David's eldest son to take the fourth place.

Slowly, very slowly the hearse drove through the cemetery to the crematorium, the two cars following and the rest of the attendees following the procession on foot. When the hearse and two cars stopped at the crematorium the first logistical challenge was to get Granny Hawkins out of the car, into her wheelchair and into the chapel for her son's funeral.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the dotty old lady had spent the journey thinking about ways that one could have a funeral for a burns victim that involved an open casket, and was now keen to share these thoughts with everyone.

"On television or in movies they put black make-up on white people to make them look like coons," she yelled out. "Alistair wouldn't want to look like a coon, he always hated Sambos, but why didn't they do the reverse and put make up on Alistair to make him look like a white person again?"

"Mum, shush, it doesn't work that way," hissed David Hawkins.

His mother then looked into the back of the hearse as it was opened and recoiled in horror. "That is a child's coffin! We're at the wrong funeral. We're at some kid's funeral, and a whole lot of strangers are at Alistair's funeral! What is going on?"

David again sighed. "Mum, remember we already talked about this. The way Alistair died, he had to be cremated before the funeral."

"Whoever heard of a cremation before a funeral?" scoffed Granny Hawkins. She glared accusingly at her son's widow, clearly not caring that Faye Hawkins was weeping as she prepared to farewell her husband.

"You stupid, stupid, stupid girl Faye!" yelled out Granny Hawkins. "You cremated Alistair before his funeral, how could you even be that stupid!"

Yelling so much affected the old woman's lungs and she fell silent catching her breath as she was wheeled to her place for the service, but unfortunately it wasn't to last. She looked at her son's coffin as it was placed down at the front in front of a large photograph of a solemn looking bearded Alistair, the same photograph as was on the funeral cards with 'In Loving Memory of Alistair John Hawkins, 1946-1998' underneath.

Her memory failing, her mind confused and only remembering snippets of recent conversations out of order and not in context Granny Hawkins pointed at the coffin and yelled out across the chapel, "That kid that died and is in the casket, was it a white kid that died or was it a nigger?"

Christine, the lady from the funeral company who would be conducting the service today as a funeral celebrant was understandably relieved when the deceased man's mother appeared to fall asleep, her head in her chest snoring and not able to blurt out anything more.

The rest of the funeral proceeded pretty much to plan. David Hawkins read out a eulogy for his late brother in a gruff, military-like way devoid of any emotion like he was reading a resume for Alistair, and Erica with the assistance of Gavin had put together a Power-point presentation about her father, which was shown to the attendees.

Unfortunately due to Alistair's personality finding photographs of Alistair smiling was quite difficult, even those of him from childhood and as a teenager showed him looking either cross or solemn. Those taken on Alistair and Faye's wedding day showed a smiling bride and a solemn groom, and those taken in the 1970s of Alistair meeting his infant children for the first time showed Alistair looking annoyed as he held Brendan, a mixture of puzzled and disapproving as he held Cornelius and bored as he met his baby daughter Erica in 1979.

Among all the holiday and family gathering shots that seemed to indicate that Alistair would have been happier not being there came one of him smiling and laughing uproariously in front of the Christmas tree, taken just before Christmas 1989. It was a good shot but Erica knew that it was best not to disclose what had brought her father so much mirth. That night Alistair had been watching a funny home videos show, one of which showed a little black kid losing control of his new bike with training wheels and riding straight into a little Asian girl, knocking her over with both kids going into a stagnant lake and both bursting into tears and crying hysterically, Alistair Hawkins convulsing in laughter.

The slideshow came to an end and then the funeral itself, with the playing of a Frank Sinatra song often played at funerals and somewhat appropriate given Alistair's stubborn and obstinate personality in real life. Holding Alistair's wake at the Hawkins house would not be possible as the presence of so many people would freak out Brendan plus parking was an issue, so a small event was held at a hall at a local park. Looking out across the field as she sipped at some coffee, her glasses still misty from crying at her father's funeral, Erica saw some press photographers loitering on the field, leaning against the H-shaped rugby league goalposts. The young girl sighed. Would the media ever lose interest in their family and let them be?