The End or Something Like That by Ann Dee Ellis

splashing as he dunked her, and she shoved him and then she almost got to the basket, but he pulled her back under the water. She came up laughing.
    â€œFOUL!” she said.
    â€œWhatever.”
    â€œIt was a foul,” I said.
    He handed her the ball, and she said, “For the record, I want my funeral at Red Rock.”
    Joe splashed her face, and she said, “Stop. I’m serious. Stop.”
    Joe stopped.
    â€œLook at me,” she said. She pointed at Joe and then at me. “Both of you. I want it at Red Rock. Maybe up Turtlehead Peak.”
    â€œReally?” Joe said. “That’s the worst hike.”
    â€œI don’t care,” she said. “It’s my funeral.”
    Joe glanced at me. Then he said, “Mine’s going to be at the Thunderdome.”
    Barf. Of course.
    â€œYou could never fill the Thunderdome,” I said. Because he couldn’t.
    â€œI could. I have fifty-five thousand friends and they’d probably put it on YouTube.”
    We started arguing and then Kim said, “GUYS!”
    And we both got quiet.
    â€œI’m serious. I want mine up Red Rock Canyon.” She focused on me. “And I want live music and a chocolate fountain and buckets and buckets of Snickers bars and balloons. Hundreds of balloons.”
    Joe looked at me. I felt hot.
    â€œYou got it?” she said. “That’s what I want.”
    Everything was quiet in the backyard then.
    â€œYou’re a dork,” Joe said, and grabbed the ball from her.
    â€¢
    She was a dork and now she was dead and Trish’s new boyfriend Greg was going to take care of everything. Kim hated Greg.
    Joe kept giving me a look, so I said, “Kim wanted it at Red Rock.”
    â€œWhat?” Trish said. And then again, everyone was looking at me.
    â€œShe wanted her funeral at Red Rock.”
    â€œShe talked to you about that?” Trish said.
    I nodded. “She wanted it at Red Rock, and she wanted a live band and a chocolate fountain and Snickers.”
    Trish wiped her nose again.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œA chocolate fountain.”
    â€œAnd balloons,” Joe said, looking at me. “Remember? Hundreds of balloons.”
    Three days later, her funeral was at the Family Church for All People just off the strip. And it was huge. And dark. And Kim would have hated it.
    Joe and I sat in between Mom and Dad
    Kim’s uncle kept hiccupping.
    Gabby was in a maxi-dress that had birds on it.
    The speaker was the fat man with the suit, and he talked about Daniel and the lions’ den and love and one time, when he was up in a mountain all by himself, he had a vision, and in that vision he saw a young deer, a fawn. And the fawn came up and ate a peanut butter sandwich right out of his hand and, if you can believe this folks, he even nestled right up to the preacher. Like a deer hug. He said, “This deer gave me a hug and when I came to, when the vision ended and I was hiking down through the good trees of glory, I came upon none other than the dead carcass of a deer. A little deer. A fawn, ladies and gentlemen.”
    I stared at the box of ashes on the table in front.
    The man spoke for forty-five minutes.
    Then we sang a hymn about the beauty of the earth, and then it was over.
    There was no chocolate fountain. No Snickers. No live bands. And no balloons.
    â€¢
    Sometimes, I close my eyes and try to be nowhere. To feel what it would be like to disappear into the darkness.
    What would it be like to be nowhere?
    To be nothing?
    It’s easier to imagine than I want it to be.

• 25 •
    There are points in my life where I do things that I shouldn’t do or don’t do things that I should.
    Most days I don’t do them, like when I saw Carlisle Peterson in my fifth period get Coke dumped on his head, and Mr. Bates looked up and said is anything wrong, and no one said anything, and Carlisle had soda all over his hair and face, and I knew I should say