Part of this story got posted in a different form in the previous PP. This is a little expanded. I'm not sure it is finished yet.
"Fear and Rain"
I returned home and trudged into the darkness I had left several weeks before. The light on the answering machine blinked incessantly, begging to be heard. But I know what it would say, hollow words of sadness and grief, people wishing me well. There would be friends telling me “ I know how you feel.” I stare at it for a while wondering if I want the annoying buzz of emptiness to invade my mood. I decide just to hit delete and let them all drift away on a mechanical wind.
It had been ten weeks since the day I said goodbye. I remember people talking to me as I stood beside… her. I can’t bring my self to utter her name yet, though she is all that is in my thoughts. Not now, not yet, maybe not ever again. We shall see, if I am here later, maybe. So far the little moments of flame have been snuffed out by the fear of eternity and the hope that there is a reason for everything, a soothing rain of momentary peace.
They do flare up, at times, after I have thought of her, little things causing me to see her face again. Whether it comes from the lightning streaking down on the mountain or the fragrance of her perfume on the air, I think of her again. I long to be with her again, but the fear and the rain. I don’t want to end with Dante. I hope Lewis is right. So I continue on every time.
I fling myself on the couch and turn on the TV then turn it of again, not able to concentrate and not sure I really want to share the world’s trouble or joy yet. I curl up and try to sleep. I feel something under the pillow and pull it out, her ribbon, the one she wore when she was in her silly moods. I laugh, another memory drifts in to my mind. We are at The Gardens, near the duck pond, just finishing a picnic. She lays her head in my lap and I begin to whisper her favorite poem, “She walks in beauty like the night…” and she closes her eyes, listening, smiling. I gently pull the box from my coat, the ring I made for her, carved like ivy with diamonds and emeralds nestled on top…
Ring. The phone interrupts my dream. I scream “No!” as it fades into subconscious and I stumble to answer, ready to yell at the intruder.
“Hello.” I mutter letting the anger simmer.
“Your finally there!” Jerry exclaims “Man I was so worried about you. You were gone so long. Where were you?”
“I just needed to get away, to think. I drove up through the mountains,” I sigh “Man she loved it so much up there. I saw her everywhere I looked.”
“You could have called. I would have been there in a flash. Is there anything you need?”
I sit back down, the anger slipping away. “I’m fine. I just miss her so much. I want to see her again that’s all.”
Then he says the words I have been dreading, the words that I have found hollow and comfortless, “It will be alright. God has a plan for this. You may not know what it is but he will let you know.”
“If you say so.” I say, the anger at this attack welling up. “If you say so. I got to go” I hang up, slamming the phone down after hitting the end button.
I know he means well. He may very well believe what he is saying, I used to also. But for ten days, I just haven’t seen it.
I glance at the clock, 8:00, to early to go to bed so I curl back on the couch hoping to get may previous dream back. “The gardens by the pond.” I whisper over and over again hoping the mantra will bring the images back. I slowly drift to sleep.
I am standing on the beach; a red moon drifts down on the horizon. I see light from a great fire just down the strand. I move toward it to see what it is. I come up short when I see I bonfire surrounded by all her possessions, the stuffed animals, the ribbons, the pictures. Everything she owned is there. The fire beckons me to it. I pick up a stuffed dog. It is red with floppy black ears. It has a grin on its face taunting me. I realize I have to get rid of it all, every last vestige of her. Maybe then I will find peace. I begin to throw things on to the blaze, one by one, then in handfuls. All must be consumed. Pictures crackle and pop, sprinkling sparks over my face, burning me. Everything is committed to the flame. Finally I hold the last bit that was on the pile, a picture of the two of us. I realize, there is two things left, two things that will forever remind me of her. I pull the picture in tight to me and try to beat back the fear. I step to the fire feeling the heat build with every step, two more things. I release the picture to the flames and hold out my arms. One more thing for the fire, there is one last item that needs to go into the flames. I step closer, and then the rain falls. I scream “No” to the heavens. All I hear back is an echo.
I wake with a start drenched with sweat and tears. Is this a vision? The fear and the rain have stopped me so far, but the fear is gone and the rain is just rain. It is time. I reach for the… thunder rolls in the distance. It is calling out to me. I step out on the porch and see the rain clouds rolling up with lightning streaking down. My hand falters and again I have the rain.
_________________
The freedom to think is the most precious gift we have. |
