Denouement

Everyone was quiet at the reception. Even though it was hardly a celebratory time, one would still expect a modicum of conversation and the like. But the room was almost deathly silent, ironically.

The 20 or so guests were gnawing on the various mushy sandwiches and limp tea that was being served. Every so often one of them would sneak a glance at Hugo Highwater, who would almost immediately meet the look with a steely gaze that would cause them to turn away.

Hugo was the son of the recently deceased. His father, Terrence Highwater, was a tyrant of the first order. He ran his paper company with an iron fist, snarled and yelled at his employees and offered almost no compensation besides the most basic subsistence wages.

As a father he had been no better. He terrorized his wife and son on a daily basis, forcing them to live as virtual paupers in their huge home in the countryside. His wife and son both had to work for any spending money they wanted, even though Terrence was worth millions. "You're lucky I don't charge you rent," he was fond of saying with a malicious laugh. Hugo's mother bore it all with a reserved stoicism thanks to her belief she was suffering so her son could one day inherit the fortune. Sadly, she died worn out and nerves shattered at a youngish 60.

It was almost 20 years before the old man followed suit, becoming more and more ornery by the minute. He hired new servants weekly as the old ones quit and bellowed at them throughout the day, seemingly his only source of joy in the world.

Finally his heart gave out and he died. A funeral was hastily arranged and the few guests who could be compelled to come arrived. A decrepit couple of cousins, a few ex-workers. No friends really, just associates.

Hugo sat amongst them as the priest blearily intoned by the rote scripture, absolutely stone faced. When it was his time to speak, he rose slowly and made his way to the pulpit, looking straight ahead.

He spoke for almost half an hour. He stared out in between the guests, looking into the crowd but at no one in particular. He cursed and denounced his father as tyrant and a malicious fiend, in such brutal and harsh language and with such vigor his neck was bulging and he was turning bright red. When he finally finished there was a stunned silence. At last the priest came back up and simply said "the reception will be in the main hall shortly," before retiring to his seat once again.

Even though secretly they had all agreed on the nature of Terrence Hightower, they felt it profane to speak so ill of the dead. After Hugo had gotten his fifth or sixth secretive glance, he erupted once more.

"You obviously don't believe I should have spoken as I did just now about my father. The truth is I meant every word of it and would say it all again. He was a simple malicious brute and you all know it as well as I do. Normally even the most terrible person has some redeeming features to draw upon. Not so for Terrence Hightower. He never did a thing in his life for anyone but himself. He would have lived completely without the company of other people had he not been so lecherously greedy. He would have worked the whole plant alone if it were an option.

But the final insult, the reason he deserves not so much as a kind word even at his death, is simple. He forced me to struggle and toil my entire life for everything I had, even though he had so much money he hardly knew what to do with it all. Now he's dead, and left me with so much as a penny in cash or property. His last earthly request is to be buried amongst his precious cash, the only thing he ever really loved.

So to hell with him. Never was there a more horrible father or man."

With that Hugo stormed off, leaving the other reception attendees gaping in silence once again.