She died sitting in her old chair where she could watch TV and look out the window as well. It was good she died sitting because they couldn't unbend her. They just set her in the back seat of the car where she looked quite natural.
The thing was she'd died in Tacoma and she'd made it plain to all her kids she wanted to be buried in Santa Maria though no one knew why.
The others all said ``She's dead now, she can't know. Let them bury her in Tacoma.''
No one had money. They'd cremate her. Fine.
But not fine for Karen.
``I'm taking her to Santa Maria,'' she said, ``I'll say she died there.''
``Just take her ashes for Christ sake!'' her brother said.
``That ain't what she wanted!''
``She wouldn't have cared!''
``I'm doing what she wanted.''
And she took her daughter Ivy and her dead mother and started south on the freeway.
They played country music loud. They drank Diet Cokes and smoked Salem Ultra Lights. Once in a while they looked in the back seat.
``She don't look good,'' Ivy said, just south of Centralia.
``Its just the dark,'' her mother said, ``No one looks good in the dark.''
But in the cold light of dawn somewhere near Eugene they knew they had to fix her up. She looked dead. No two ways about it.
``We have to go through the inspection at the California border,'' Karen said, ``we got to make her look better.''
Ivy got in the back seat and rubbed liquid make-up into her dead grandmother's face. She kind of enjoyed it. Like playing with dolls.
``Don't get carried away - don't make her look like a cheap whore,'' her mother yelled.
``Mom! She's oozing!'' Ivy answered.
``Yeah, she'll do that,'' Karen said, ``We got a long way to go, but I don't want to get a ticket for speeding.''
Ivy was spraying the dead woman's hair. It really looked pretty when she was through.
``She looks better than either one of us,'' Ivy said.
``Well she did always like to look nice,'' her mother answered.
At the inspection station the woman scarcely looked in the car. She did notice the smell though. Cigarette smoke, cosmetics, and something else she couldn't place...
When they pulled into Santa Maria they called the police. ``We thought she was sleeping.'' they said.
It didn't take long to dispose of her. Some questions. Some papers to be signed.
They bought a Mexican blanket and covered the back seat and started home.
``It ain't no fun without her,'' Ivy said.
They were both weeping as they passed through Sacramento and didn't quit until they stopped for gas and olives at Corning.