The Table

Exploration of a crime scene/Exploration of the self.

The Table

As usual, TV is on in the background - I'm not paying any attention to it. My peripheral vision picks up the flashing lights of police cars. Another sad story, more prime-time gloom and doom. I glance up to see the name of my small town printed beneath the crime scene on the screen. How can this be? My town is safe - the homes are expensive, the taxes are high, and according to the real estate agent, the schools are "the best". A murder in my safe little neighborhood? My heart beats faster - it cannot be someone I know. I am relieved when I see your face on the screen - we've never met.

You were my age and now you're dead. Stabbed to death in your beautiful Victorian home. Your body was found days after your death, crumpled into a coat closet. Your mother and your uncle were found there too, both stabbed to death. Were they trying to save you? Did you try to defend them?

The entire community is terrified - who committed this unthinkable crime? Is this monster lurking amongst us? Perhaps we're not safe here anymore. After a few days, the police found your abandoned car. They traced your stolen credit cards and found your killer. This monster was a friend of yours? He had been invited into your home on the night of your death. Again I am relieved - this could have happened anywhere, it has nothing to do with my town.

Yet, I am curious. You were my age and you lived one street away from my beautiful home. How is it that you befriended a monster? The stories in the paper are sparse. I'd like more information. I need to know more details. You had been friends with him for several years. Your mother and your uncle knew him. Could that explain the lack of a struggle at the crime scene - did he surprise you?

I pass by your house every day on my way to work. Things are not going very well for me right now, but least I am alive. I can't resist staring at your house. Your yard is so overgrown and someone needs to come trim that oak tree before the limbs become entangled in the power lines. Who's going to care for your house now - was your entire family killed that night? Is anyone left?

Over time, staring out of my car window does not cut it anymore. I need to get a closer look. On a warm, sunny spring day I took my dog for a walk down your street. None of the neighbors were around, so I slipped into your back yard. The canopy of trees kept your yard dark and cool. I was struck by the distinct contrast between the micro-climate in your yard and the rest of the world.

It felt ghostly back there - a slice of life, frozen in time. Your mother must have been a gardener - mine is too. The yard was just the way she left it...a bag of potting soil ripped open, with a trowel sticking out of it, a tray of flowers that never made it into their pots and have since lost their blooms, and a plastic lawn chair tipped over in front of a bird bath.

Everything was so overgrown, like the Secret Garden. The wind whipped through the trees and bushes and caused goosebumps to rise along the back of my neck. It was so eerie back there, but that's exactly what pulled me further in. I wanted to stay as much as I wanted to leave.

Upon my exit, the table caught my eye. I imagine that your mom used it for gardening, maybe as a stand for terra cotta pots while transferring plants? It is definitely weathered, its wrought iron rusted. I like that about it - well used, well loved. The small slab of green granite at the top of the table is chipped in several places. It cannot be worth much anymore.

What I want you to know is that I could not leave it there. The idea of continued decay did not sit well with me - your mother, my mother, you, me. Thank you for the table. I've been using it when I work in my garden. Thank you for your story and the perspective it brought to my life.

Author's Note

Feedback please!! Thank you :)

Reviews

[Demi Rose]

it has a fresh voice.

[CatOfOrion]

I love the voice in this! It would be nice if you could describe what the murder victim, the subject, looks like so the imagery becomes more finite. It's a beautiful piece of work nevertheless!

[McKinleyA]

The way you used perspective really brought this to an epic level! It sucks you right into the story right away, and the ending was heart warming, and just really wonderful. Awesome job!