Benja Was Dead

Benja Wilson was dead. Everyone said so. Mrs Broadbill, the history teacher said so. Mr Kellter, the local vicar said so. Even Fjoda said so.

But Norin knew better. Norin knew that if Benja was dead, she would have warned him before dying. And she hadn’t, so she could not be dead. Admittedly, he had been to Benja’s funeral and had seen the coffin. But who knew if Benja really had been inside?

It had been a sad affair. Mr Wilson cried and almost threw himself onto the coffin. Mrs Wilson just sat stone faced, as if she had lost her will to live. Benja’s whole class had been there. Many were crying, others just very quiet. Much unlike the usual band of monkeys.

But Norin had just been confused. This must all have been a mistake. A joke, maybe. He wanted very much to ask Benja about it. She could always explain the things he didn’t understand. But she was not there.

As he tried to stand up to ask the vicar instead, Mrs Broadbill took his hand, hugged him and whispered:

“Don’t go outside to cry. It’s OK. Everyone is sad like you. You don’t have to hide it.”

This left Norin even more confused. Benja was not dead. So why should he cry? He thought about asking Mrs Broadbill instead of the vicar. Even if she was no expert in matters of life and death like the vicar, who spend his days telling the people in his audience about people who died so that yet another set of people didn’t have to die (or something like that). At least she was an adult and seemed to know a great deal, judging by her history lessons. But she had buried her face in her handkerchief once again.

Mr Kellter had droned on and on. After telling people the need-to-know about Benja, he changed the subject:

“Even in this dark hour, we find comfort in knowing that Benja is not truly dead.”

Norin jolted upright. He had been right, he knew it!

“Benja might have left the mortal world but in the afterlife…”

Norin sighed. Benja was not in the afterlife. She was alive. And he would prove it.