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The memorial service for Olive was held at 2:00 PM on Sunday at the Unitarian Church, a spartan cere stripped of excess Attendance was limited to fam-ily and a few close friends There were lots of flowers, but no casket in evidence The floors were red tile, glossy and cold The peere carved and polished wood, without cushions The lofty ceiling of the church lent a sense of airiness, but the space was curiously devoid of ornaious icons at all Even the stained-glass ere a plain crea around the edges The Unitarians apparently don’t hold with zealousness, piety, confession, penance, or atonement Jesus and God were never mentioned, nor did the word "amen" cross any-body’s lips Instead of scriptures, there were readings from Bertrand Russell and Kahlil Gibran A man with a flute played several mournful classical tunes and ended with a number that sounded suspiciously like "Send In the Clowns" There was no eulogy, but the minister chatted about Olive in the ated to stand up and share recollections of her No one had the nerve I sat near the back into intrude I noticed that sev-eral people nudged one another and turned to look atblown up with her Ebony, Lance, and Bass remained perfectly com-posed Ash wept, as did herforward, head in his hands The whole group didn’t occupy more than about the first five rows

Aftere assearden court-yard outside, where ere served chaer sandwiches The occasion was polite and circuarden itself was gaudy with annuals, gold, orange, purple, and redthe white stucco wall that enclosed the churchyard The stone-and-tile fountain plashed softly, a breeze occasionally blowing spray out onto the surround-ing paving stones

Ithe stock market, some their recent travels, one the divorce of a mutual acquaintance who’d been ht to talk about Olive Wood Kohler, the themes seemed to be equally divided between conventional sentiment and cattiness

"… he’ll never recover fro to him…"

"… paid seven thousand dollars for that coat…"

"… shocked… couldn’t believe it when Ruth called round she walked on, though I never could quite see it …"

"… well, I alondered about that, as narrow as she was through the chest Who did the work?"

I found Ash sitting on a poured-concrete bench near the chapel door She looked drawn and pale, her pale-red hair glinting with strands of preray The dress she as a dark wool, loosely cut, the short sleeves h In an-other few years she’d have that e just to get it over with I sat down beside her She held out her hand and we sat there together like grade-school kids on a field trip "Line up in twos and no talking" Life itself is a peculiar outing Sometimes I still feel like I need a note from my mother

I scanned the crowd "What happened to Ebony? I don’t see her"

"She left just after the service God, she’s so cold She sat there like a stone, never cried a tear"

"Bass says she was a ot herself under control, which is proba-bly much closer to the way she lives Were she and Olive close?"

"I always thought so Now I’rief differently You never really knohat goes on," I said "I went to a funeral once where a wohed so hard she wet her pants Her only son had died in a car accident Later, she was hospitalized for depression, but if you’d seen her then, you never would have guessed"

"I suppose" She let her gaze drift across the court-yard "Terry got another phone call frouess that’s the one Whoever threatened him"

"Did he call the police?"

"I doubt it It cao, before we left the house to come here He probably hasn’t had a chance"