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On the day of the funeral, the coffin had to be transported to the church cemetery.
The traveling priest responsible for several parishes had already been contacted in advance and was waiting at the town church.
As the youngest man present, Henry naturally became one of the pallbearers.
The selection had nothing to do with who had been closest to the deceased.
The rule was simple:
The people with the strength carried the coffin.
After all, everyone in town had known Old John for about the same amount of time.
Meanwhile, some of the elderly attendees had trouble walking.
Making them carry a coffin would leave people wondering whether they were trying to torment the living or the dead.
Normally, a wheeled platform similar to a hospital gurney would be placed beneath the coffin to save effort.
But there were always stretches where the coffin had to be carried manually.
That was where a young man like Henry came in handy.
The transfer to the cemetery went smoothly.
The grave had already been dug, and the ropes used to lower the coffin into place were prepared.
In the continental United States, electric lowering devices were available for such occasions.
But in Alaska, a few sturdy beams and several ropes were still enough to get the job done.
Unlike everyone else, the priest maintained an appropriate sense of solemnity and dignity.
Even those who had spent the previous two days drinking, laughing, and celebrating became noticeably more restrained in his presence.
Everyone would eventually reach this final step in life.
Nobody wanted to offend the priest.
Henry also stepped up to the front and spoke briefly about the deceased.
As for what he actually said, he no longer remembered.
At the very least, it certainly hadn't been anything bad.
He hadn't worn the custom-tailored suit he reserved for high-class occasions.
In a setting like this, such clothing would have looked more like a peacock showing off its feathers.
A simple black suit and white shirt were enough.
Many of the elderly attendees weren't even dressed in black.
They simply wore their everyday clothes, perhaps choosing less colorful outfits than usual.
The burial and filling of the grave proceeded without issue.
For a town nearing the twilight of its existence, funerals were probably the largest events held on a regular basis.
Mistakes were unlikely.
Once everyone returned to the bar, the unfinished bottles from the previous day reappeared, and the eating and drinking resumed.
There were no lawyers in town—a profession generally regarded with some prestige elsewhere—so it was the sheriff who read Old John's will aloud.
In fact, the sheriff safeguarded most of the wills belonging to the town's residents.
"For all the lucky bastards who are still alive."
The opening line immediately drew a chorus of boos and laughter.
Once everyone had gotten it out of their system, the sheriff continued:
"All my selfish and annoying family members have already gone ahead to Heaven and are waiting for me there.
"So the things I've left behind in this world might as well benefit the living.
"If anyone wants to run the bar, then inherit this rotten old place.
"If several people want it, settle it like real men and have yourselves a good old-fashioned street duel.
"No need to fight to the death.
"Just let the winner inherit everything.
"Though considering how fragile you old geezers are, a few of you would probably die anyway and the survivor would inherit it all.
"If nobody wants the bar, then let it rot."
The crowd laughed.
"If there's something you want, take it.
"Don't leave it behind for me.
"And don't worry about my ghost coming after you for my belongings.
"They aren't worth that much.
"I didn't care about them while I was alive, so why the hell would I care after I'm dead?"
The room erupted again.
"—If someone comes back looking for me, tell him I didn't leave anything behind.
"This place is a paradise where old people wait for the Final Judgment.
"It isn't a place for the young."
Everyone immediately turned to look at Henry.
Clearly that line had been written specifically for him.
"—The rest of my money is in the safe.
"And that useless metal box that's only good because bullets can't get through it naturally has no lock and no password.
"Pay whatever expenses need paying.
"Donate what's left to the church.
"And tell the priest that the church benches should be replaced if they need replacing.
"Stop letting Lim patch them up over and over.
"The people attending Mass shouldn't have to sit on splintered seats that bruise their backsides."
The man who had just been named was the caretaker of the church.
He immediately shouted:
"Go to hell, old man!
"You never replaced the chairs in your own bar, and now you're trying to tell us how to run the church?"
The crowd enthusiastically joined in, loudly criticizing the deceased.
Only after the commotion subsided did the sheriff continue reading:
"Lastly, a warning to all you old bastards still alive:
"Don't come to Heaven too soon.
"I've spent enough years looking at your ugly faces.
"Let me enjoy a little peace and quiet up there before you show up."
When the unusual will had finally been read, the sheriff passed the document around for anyone who wanted to read it themselves.
Then he carried his drink over to Henry, who was sitting in a corner.
It wasn't that Henry didn't want to mingle.
Nor was there any distance between him and the townspeople.
The problem was Katie.
While the old men and women all believed that a tiger wouldn't bother chewing on old bones, Henry still deliberately kept some distance.
The last thing he wanted was for one of these fearless seniors to do something that annoyed a tiger.
The sheriff naturally didn't sit too close to Katie either.
He took the seat on Henry's other side.
Henry sat in the middle.
Raising his glass, the sheriff clinked it lightly against Henry's.
"I honestly didn't think you'd come back.
"Old John did, though."
"Maybe he was expecting somebody else."
Henry smiled while absentmindedly scratching the tiger's head, which rested comfortably across his lap.
He raised his own glass and took a small sip.
The sheriff returned the toast.
"Doesn't matter."
Then he asked,
"You must be pretty busy these days.
"Being the boss of a movie company and all."
"Not really.
"I resigned a while ago."
The sheriff looked genuinely surprised.
"So you're planning to stay for a while?"
"Not in town.
"I'll probably wander around."
Henry glanced out the window.
"Maybe head into the Arctic Circle and see whether I get lucky enough to catch the Northern Lights."
"In the middle of winter?"
The sheriff stared at him.
"You serious?
"What if you can't find food?
"What if that pet tiger of yours decides to eat you?"
Henry laughed.
"Who becomes emergency rations for whom hasn't been decided yet."
He no longer sounded like the cautious young man who had once lived here.
His tone was far more relaxed.
The sheriff had no intention of controlling what another adult did.
As long as Henry wasn't breaking the law, he was free to do whatever he pleased.
Even if that meant getting himself killed.
With a helpless shrug, the sheriff said:
"That's your business.
"I only came over to remind you to keep your pet under control.
"I've got equipment for dealing with bears.
"But I have no idea whether those weapons work on tigers."
Katie's ears twitched.
The small Tiger-Language Translator mounted behind one ear had faithfully translated everything.
She started to lift her head.
Henry immediately pressed it back onto his lap and continued petting her.
"Oh, they'd work.
"If a gun can kill a bear, it can definitely kill a tiger.
"Whether you actually hit the tiger is another matter.
"They hunt very differently.
"Tigers are much sneakier.
"They prefer ambushes."
The sheriff frowned.
"You know what I mean.
"Keep her under control.
"I have no desire to play hide-and-seek."
"Yes, sir."
Henry responded with a strangely exaggerated salute.
It looked anything but serious.
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