The bitterness swelled until it filled every corner of my chest.
I turned slowly and looked at John, who sat with one leg crossed over the other, smoking without a care in the world.
"John. Don't you want to come see this?"
"See what?! What's there to see about some burned-up dead body?!"
"And stay away from that thing! I'm telling you, if you pick up any of that bad luck, don't bother coming home!"
He waved impatiently at the young men. The one in front shoved me aside, then looked up at John.
"Boss, what do you want us to do with the body?"
"Take him to the funeral home."
I got the words out before John could answer, then turned to face him.
"John, can you lend me some money? I want to give Dad a proper burial. I already asked. Burial plots come in all price ranges. If money's tight, we can get the cheapest one. That would be enough."
"Cheap isn't free!"
John cut me off.
He flicked the cigarette butt aside, disgust practically spilling from his eyes.
He pointed at the body on the ground, every word dripping with contempt.
"Just go dump it in the village cesspit. Burying it on the hillside would be a waste of good land."
"The cesspit?!"
I stared at John, unable to believe what I was hearing.
"John, have you lost your mind? Since when does anyone throw a body into a cesspit?!"
The young men's faces darkened too.
"Man, the old guy's dead. No matter what, he deserves a proper burial. The cesspit really isn't right..."
They set the stretcher down as they spoke.
"Look, if you want the body dumped in a cesspit, that's not something we can do. That's not human."
The young men exchanged a glance, then turned and walked away.
John swore under his breath, irritation boiling over.
Then he grabbed the stretcher himself.
He headed straight for the cesspit.
When he reached the edge, I stepped in front of him and pointed at the stretcher, keeping my voice low.
"John. You won't even pull back the sheet for one last look?"
He shoved my hand away with a grunt of fury.
"Look at what? The old man's dead. What's there to see? I'm sick of dealing with this!"
The words had barely left his mouth before he heaved the stretcher forward. The charred remains of my father-in-law tumbled into the cesspit.
He ripped off his jacket and scrubbed his hands with it, over and over, muttering the whole time.