BY HEY YOU

 Shahr-koo-tuh-ree 

 

 

“That’s how she died you know.” 

 

My hand recoiled from the charcuterie tray as I eyed my cousin with suspicion. 

 

“How?” I asked. 

“Well, I suppose if they didn’t tell you…” he said archly and stalked away. 

 

I hadn’t really thought about how my aunt died. I supposed in consideration for my 9yr-old sensitivities, the adults hadn’t supplied the grisly details, but what could he possibly mean?  Was she poisoned? Did she choke to death? Maybe she was allergic to dairy? The provolone I had been munching seemed to instantly age in my mouth. Surely, they wouldn’t serve cheese at her funeral if that were the case. 

 

“People just die sometimes.” Mother had said, attempting to quell my fears of meeting my own untimely demise.  Actually, it created a new fear of just dropping dead at any moment.  

 

I scanned the room. There were small clusters of people talking in solemn tones, flowers adorning every surface, with photographs of my Aunt’s beaming face from her “culinary vacations” to Thailand, Mexico, and Italy on the walls. Was it her obsession with exotic foods and travel that ultimately led to her doom? Did her plane crash? Did the pilot choke …on a piece of cheese??! 

 

I couldn’t let my imagination run any further. I finally worked up the courage to ask my grandmother. 

 

“Diabetes, child,” was the answer. 

 

I cornered my cousin. “Why’d you say that by the snack table?” 

 

“What?” He suddenly looked unsure. “I heard she died of brie cheese.”