The bright midday sun poured through the high stained-glass windows of the church. Sunlight hit the polished oak floors and made every dark suit in the room look stark and heavy. In the very front row sat twelve-year-old Toby, staring at the white wooden coffin resting on the raised platform. His eyes were red, and his hands shook in his lap. Beside him sat his stepfather, Daniel, wearing a sharp beige suit and a clean silver watch. Daniel looked calm, cool, and completely in control of the entire funeral service.
Toby looked at the flag painted on the far wall and then back at the coffin. Something inside him felt entirely wrong, like a heavy rock sitting in his stomach. He remembered his mother, Clara, always talking about her life insurance policy and the big house. She had told Toby just three days ago that if anything ever happened to her, he should look for her special green notebook. But Daniel had locked her bedroom door the moment the paramedics pronounced her dead from a sudden stroke.
Toby leaned closer to his aunt Sarah, who sat on his left in a dark dress. Her hands were folded neatly, though her eyes were darting toward Daniel every few seconds. She leaned toward Toby and spoke in a very low voice.
Sarah: Toby, honey, you need to sit still. Daniel wants everything to go smoothly today.
Toby: Aunt Sarah, Mom didn't look like that on Tuesday. She was talking to me about her new will.
Sarah: Shh. Do not start trouble here. Your stepfather is paying for all of this.
Toby: He wouldn't let me touch her room. He hid her cell phone in his office desk.
Daniel turned his head slowly and looked at Toby with cold, narrow eyes. He straightened his beige jacket and reached down to pat Toby's shoulder with a firm grip that felt more like a warning than a comfort.
Daniel: Toby, be a big boy today. Your mother would want you to show some dignity in front of our friends.
Toby: I know what I heard yesterday in the hallway, Daniel. You were talking to a lawyer about the house mortgage.
Daniel: That is adult business. You need to keep quiet and let the pastor finish his sermon.
Toby pulled his shoulder away from Daniel's heavy hand. His heart was pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. He stood up from the wooden pew suddenly, his sneakers squeaking against the floorboards. The quiet church grew even quieter as dozens of guests turned their heads to watch the young boy in the maroon hoodie step into the main aisle.
He walked straight up to the altar where the white coffin stood surrounded by white roses. Toby put his small hands on the smooth lid and pushed with all his strength, but the lid was tightly latched and sealed shut. Tears began to fall down his freckled cheeks, but he did not make a sound until he banged his fist against the wood.
Toby: Open it, please! Somebody open this box right now!
Daniel: Toby! Get back to your seat this instant!
Daniel jumped up from his row, his leather shoes clicking loudly on the oak floor as he moved toward the boy with long, angry strides. The guests whispered in confusion, some leaning forward to see what was happening. Toby looked around frantically for help, but everyone sat frozen in their seats. Near the side door, he noticed a heavy wooden mallet resting on a maintenance cart left behind by the church caretaker. Toby ran two steps, grabbed the heavy tool with both hands, and rushed back to the coffin before anyone could catch him.
Toby: My mother is still inside! I know she is!
Daniel: Stop! Put it down!
Toby raised the heavy mallet over his shoulder, his small body shaking with fear and grief. He brought the wooden head down with everything he had left inside him. A sharp, loud crack echoed through the entire church as the sealed wooden lid split wide open down the center.