Last Rites

"Thank you! You have a nice night!"

Milo gave a plastic smile to the patrons leaving the restaurant. As soon as the two left, Milo stretched their arms and cocked their head to the side with a satisfying pop. They had been on the clock for an hour already and had two and a half more hours to go, but it had felt like an eternity had passed. Working in the food industry wasn't easy, nor was it Milo's idea of work, but at least they were pulling in some cash now and again. Just as they were going to bus the tables in the back of the establishment, the archaic cordless phone perched at the host stand rang. Sighing, Milo picked up the phone and exited the restaurant. the chatter of the crowd made it hard to hear inside. 

"Thank you for calling Upcountry Grill!" Milo spoke into the phone, using a fake yet sweet tone.

"H-hello," the person on the other end spoke shyly, "I was wondering, uh...if I could talk to one of the h-hosts here?" The voice seemed familiar to Milo, but they couldn't place it.

"Well, I'm a host," Milo responded as more patrons entered the restaurant, and Milo hoped that one of their coworkers or their manager would be able to serve them. "or did you have someone specific in mind?"

"Er, well," the voice continued, "Is Allan-- er, Milo working today?"

"That would be me." Milo responded, their face flushing slightly.

"O-oh! Milo! It's you! L-listen, please don't hang up, but it's your mother."

Milo's stomach felt as if it had risen into their gullet. They swallowed thickly. They wanted to hang up, but what if she tried to call back? If they ignored a call, they'd get snapped at by their boss for sure.

Milo cleared their throat and added venom to their tone. "We don't do reservations on weekends, if you want a pickup order then I'll guide you over to the bar staff, if you have a question I'll guide you over to the manager, and I don't appreciate you calling me to make chitchat on company time."

"No, no! I don't want any of that! Why do you always have to be so-- look, please, please don't hang up!" the voice sputtered on the other end of the line. "Look, I don't want to order anything! I want to tell you something, but you blocked me on your cell phone! But one day I saw you in the window while you were working, and I--"

"Yeah, fuck this," Milo snapped, "I've got work to do. Thanks for calling."

"PLEASE!" the voice screeched over the phone, "Milo! It's your father! He's dead! And you're going to speak at his funeral!"

Milo's face grew pale. They were silent for a long moment.

"Milo? Are you there? Milo?" the voice called over the phone before Milo ended the call, walking back inside, their entire body numb from the sudden news.

Diesel was thankful that he didn't have to work like Milo did, but it did get lonely in the house without his partner. He missed Milo's gentle humming, the incessant noise of their video games, their pencil scratching as they doodled on their homework, their occasional puns. It just wasn't fun at home without Milo. Diesel sighed slightly as he sunk into the plush couch in the living room. Suddenly, Diesel heard a knock at the door. Cautiously, Diesel stood and walked to the front door. Neither Milo nor Diesel's parents should be home by this time, so who could it be?

"Who is it?" Diesel called to the other side.

"It's me." the voice of Diesel's partner surprised him, and he immediately unlocked and opened the door and ushered their partner inside, shutting the door behind them.

"What are you dong home so early?" Diesel asked Milo, who's deadpan expression and fluid movements unsettled Diesel. It wasn't like Milo to be so ghostly. "Are you feeling sick?"

"Well," Milo began, sitting on the couch as Diesel joined them, "I got some conflicting news at work."

"Oh." Diesel replied sympathetically, prepared to hear that Milo had been fired. It wasn't that Diesel thought Milo was a bad employee, it was that Milo always complained that they never knew what they were doing in the restaurant and nobody was inclined to help them. It would be an understandable surprise if Milo had been cut.

"So, guess who called the fucking restaurant phone and asked to speak to me, specifically?" Milo took on a snarky tone.

"They called the restaurant...for you?" Diesel asked. "Weird...well, who?"

"My mom. Not our mom, but, y'know, my mom." Milo responded.

Diesel grew a bit pale. "Oh. Ew. What'd she say? Did she order something weird?"

"No, but she told me something, and I was so shocked that I clocked out early. God, I'm gonna get fired..." Milo covered their face with their hands.

"No, no," Diesel rubbed his partner's back comfortingly, "they'll understand if it was really that shocking. But what did she tell you?"

"She said," Milo paused to take a breath, "that my dad just died, and that I'm gonna speak at the funeral."

"Woah..." Diesel breathed. "But wait, didn't you say that you'd be happy when your dad died?"

"Yeah, I'm really happy!" Milo responded, "I'm fuckin' overjoyed that the bastard is dead! I just don't wanna go to the funeral and be expected to say nice shit about him!"

"Well," Diesel coaxed, "nobody said that you have to go, or that you have to say nice things..."

Milo suddenly looked up as if an idea had struck them. "You're right...if I were to write something that tells them the truth, then..."

Milo stood up. "And then, I could wear something trashy like I don't care, or-- no, no, a dress! I could wear a dress! That'll shake them up! And then I could say all the bad things about him and just leave, and then--"

A smile spread across Milo's face. "My God, Diesel, you're a sexy genius!" Milo dashed upstairs and into their room, yelling, "I'll give them a show they'll never forget!"

"Here we are." Diesel had driven Milo over to the site of Milo's father's funeral. 

"I'm a little nervous...I still have my cards, right?" Milo fumbled over themselves until they realized they were still holding their cue cards in their hands.

Diesel chuckled. "Silly," he remarked, "you're gonna be great. I wish I could watch."

"If you hide behind one of the graves, someone is bound to see you!" Milo giggled. But yeah, I'm just...phoooo, I'm anxious..."

"Hey," Diesel patted his partner's shoulder, "just go in there and fuck shit up! your dad is dead! Why not celebrate like the world is ending?"

Milo nodded as they stepped out of the car, clutching both sides of the lacy black dress they were wearing.

"Have fun, lovebug! I'll get lunch for us on the way back!"

"I will! See ya!" Milo responded as Diesel drove out of the church parking lot.

Milo watched Diesel leave and took a deep breath. They clutched their cue cards and walked towards the church. Old and young people slowly entered the church, all dressed in black, giving Milo strange looks as they entered, to which Milo responded with a middle finger or a scowl. 

Milo entered the church and walked up the aisle. There were many people in the grand building, all talking in hushed whispers, some taking a moment to look at Milo with confusion or disdain. Finally, Milo made it to the front of the church. A large, black, lacquered coffin was placed front and center, adorned with flowers and wreaths of all sorts, and Milo knew what lay inside. Milo hoped that their father didn't want an open casket; or, if he did, that the congregation would just decide not to open the thing. Milo spotted their mother perched near the coffin, her eyes watery and red. She caught sight of Milo, and her expression shifted from shock to happiness to disgust all in a moment. 

"Well," Milo greeted their mother, "isn't this a warm welcome?"

Milo's mother swallowed audibly. "I'm...surprised you actually came. Did you, er, not have anything more appropriate to wear?"

"All you said was to wear black." Milo stated plainly. 

"But did you have to--"

"You want me to just leave? 'Cause I'll do it." Milo barked, causing a wave of silence to wash over the church.

"Sh-h-h!" Milo's mother hissed. "Okay, I'm sorry. Just, uh...go sit down or something. People are looking at us weird."

"Let them." Milo retorted, seating themselves in the first pew of the leftmost row.

"And we are blessed today to have his own son, Allen "Milo" Audrey, present with us today, to give a speech honoring the life of his father." The pastor paused his sermon to look at Milo and gesture, ushering them up to the preacher's stand. Milo winced at the incorrect pronoun usage but stood anyways, walking to the front of the church as the pastor took a seat. Milo clutched their cue cards and cleared their throat, watching the crowd focused on them, some leaning over to one another to whisper and point. Milo looked at their mother, who gave a weak smile through a teary-eyed, flushed face.

"So, it's come to this." Milo read in a loud, affirmative voice, their voice filling the church. "I have long since awaited this day since I was no taller than five feet."

A rumble of whispers passed over the crowd. Milo's mother reflected shock on her countenance. 

"At 7:45 PM two days ago, I was called from my workplace on the restaurant's phone. My mother had called and asked to speak to me. She informed me that my father had passed, and that I was to speak at this...at this wretched seminar. God, how I did not want to attend, but through the words of my wonderful boyfriend, I was able to procure a speech and a lovely outfit for this hallowing occasion."

Milo's mother's face was red from shock. Milo heard a few whispers among the front rows, saying things like, "Lovely outfit?" "Why did he come, then?" "Who is he?"

"If I actually cared for the life of my father, then I would be much more sad about this occasion. But-- and I know you know this, Mom-- I am more than happy to send this bastard in this box six feet under.

The chattering grew louder and more discontent. Anxiety swelled in Milo's chest. They flipped their cue cards and continued,

"This is the man who ruined my life. This is the man who hit me, who pulled my hair, who threatened me, belittled me, called me worthless, hopeless, a freak, a faggot, and every word in between. Many nights were spent crying over the scars he inflicted, and if it had not been for a chance encounter with my boyfriend, then I would be where my father is now. SO, every day I waited for today. I wished for it, prayed for it, chanting every way I could towards the starry night sky in hopes that I would belt out the right words to make today real. But now, now it's here."

Milo's voice began to break as the weight of what they were doing began to fall upon their shoulders.

"And I'm happy. Goddamnit, I am so happy. I am happy that this bastard, this abusive dumbfuck is finally dead. I've wanted this day to come for years, and now it's here. I can barely fathom my happiness. And do you know why?"

Milo paused to wipe their eyes as the crowd fell silent.

"Because I've won! I've finally won! The demon is dead, and the hero has overcome the trial!"

Milo's voice raised to a yell. "Do you hear that, Dad? I've won! I've won, you rat bastard! I hope that this accursed box you'll call your home collapsed under the weight of the earth! And do you know what I'm gonna do after you're buried? I'm gonna drive over here and piss on your grave! Fuck you, Dad! I win! My win! I hope you go straight to hell!"

Milo quickly fled from the stand, throwing their cards on the ground. As an unplanned added measure, Milo passed by his father's coffin and flicked spit onto the surface, then knocked over the floral arrangements on top just before they broke into a sprint in the aisle, dashing out of the church as the crowd began to murmur once again.

"And then I knocked off all the flowery shit that was on top, and...yeah. That's when I left."

Milo took a big bite out of the burger Diesel had bought for them. Steadily chewing, they listened to their boyfriend's startled laugh.

"That was hella brave of you."

Milo smiled as their boyfriend gave them a kiss on the cheek. "You're such a brave little bug. I know you can do anything you put your mind to."

Milo nodded and swallowed. They were still in their dress, which was now speckled with crumbs and spots of mustard and ketchup. The quaint atmosphere of eating fast food in the car was a much-needed release from the tense atmosphere of the church. Milo hummed, satisfied with themselves and the food.