Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I heard the blue jays; the early morning rays shown down on my face as I moved uncomfortably. I opened my eyes cautiously only to shut them as I gained a overpowering glance of the bright sun.
I felt a hard uneven surface beneath me as I turned onto my belly. I opened my eyes again and stretched like a newly hatched baby sea turtle. I sprawled and stretched my fingers wide feeling the rough surface beneath them. My eyes I found were taking their time to adjust.

I found I was laying on the white bench swing on the porch of my grandparent’s house. My mind raced with the blurry events of the night before as I remembered the running, the amber eyes, and the woods.

I looked to the porch wood floor under the swing to find a stunning jacket of dark blue velvet. It was stitched with silver thread and had ruffled lace along the sleeves edge. I remembered the stranger more clearly now as I picked up the jacket. It smelt like the peppermint and lilac that the man resembled.

I kept my face snuggled against it. It felt as if I was drowning in the warm deep scent. Somehow even though it was more of a feminine scent I realized it actually had a strange masculinity to it, musk even.

I looked to my hands and saw the scratches that had scabbed over. There was one on my palm that was so deep to this day I still have the scar. My legs where in an even worse state along with the rest of my body with scrapes like razor blade cuts and infected swelling from the dirt and mud that had been left untouched on my body.

I noticed my now bare feet with my sandals on the floor under the swing and my torn church skirt and shirt that I had planned to where to evening service the night before.

“Where else could she be we’ve looked everywhere!?” I heard a familiar voice from the car shed.

“I don’t know! First we here her mothers father died from the flue and now one of our grandchildren has gone up and disappeared.” I heard another voice say.

“Grandma Grandpa!?” I called in a high pitched scream.

“Savannah!?” Came a closer voice as I saw my grandma round the corner followed by my grandfather at a overwhelmingly fast rapidity.

My grandma picked me up and squeezed me in a bear hug I never thought possible by her small size. Both of my grandparents had tears in their eyes as they chattered quickly making it impossible to make out their words.

The words I did hear included ‘funeral’ ‘pappa’ ‘sister’ ‘tomorrow’ and ‘hurry’.

I don’t really know how I got to my next point. I was in a black church like dress my cuts and scrapes where clean and bandaged. My hair was neat and in place behind my ears. My eyes looked upon the sad faces of my cousins Steven which was fifteen and Lauren who was only about two years older than Sarah and I. Both wore black as we did. My sister Sarah seemed to be the only other person that was confused. We all held yellow roses which where my papa’s favorite.

Papa was the pet name for my maternal grandfather.

The rose I held was only half bloomed its tips where the shade of blood. Never changing as I caressed the petals tips. The thorns had been cut off to prevent cuts. It didn’t seem I could fit anymore but I guess the adults felt otherwise.

I remember before we got into the limousine, we sit in now, my mother had been crying. I don’t think I had ever seen her cry before then. I don’t think I wanted to see her cry at that moment either. I had asked her why she cried, for no matter how serious a child I was, I was still horribly naive.

But the tender look she gave me held no singular answer as she sat me down in the leather seat nearest the window and smiled with tears still falling.

Looking back on that expression I still couldn’t grasp the answer she tried to give, but as I looked from my single blooming rose to the window nearest me, I saw the rain. I became mesmerized, as I watched the water fall like my mothers tears as they fell down the window, as my mothers tears had done, down her rosy cheek.

When we arrived at a morbid looking building, which I found out was called a morgue. I didn’t know what to do. I clung to my mother like a baby duck, as I watched the other people parking. They where all wearing black from shoe to shirt I noticed when they stepped from their cars. Some of the women had hat or vial on their heads, I supposed to keep their hair dry from the rain that still fell in sheets.

I knew some of the people but no one stopped to say hello as I, my sisters, my father, and my mother walked into the morgue. My parents had Sarah,Jessica(the eldest at about thirteen) and I sit still behind them as they greeted people with my Nana.

Nana had been the only person to greet us as we entered it seemed, as she still gave her usual warm smile and kissed our cheeks. We returned the kiss politely and had taken our place behind the grown ups. Nana had given us grape bazooka gum as we past so we weren’t completely bored as we sat in rather uncomfortable over stuffed chairs.

After what seemed like hours, we were taken to stand in a line. Why? We had no idea, well at least Sarah and I didn't, Jessica was old enough to understand... But we stood still as we walked slowly through a set of double cherry wood doors. We were led to what Sarah and I thought was a big shoe box, and told to say goodbye to Pa pa.

My sisters and I were confused, but we obediently looked inside to be faced with what Sarah and I thought was a deep sleeping grandfather. But we couldn’t have known then I guess, that he was never going to wake from that sleep.

Neither of us said anything as we were ushered to three seats in the front row. We sat there listening to words we didn’t understand for a good hour before we began to walk outside. In what I said about not understanding, I think even Jessica didn't fully grasp everything they were talking about, they being the priest and those who wished to speak there after.

“Why are we going outside?” I asked my daddy. He only looked down, picked me up and put me on his hip. He held an umbrella over our heads as we walked. My mother had done the same for Sarah as my father had done for me.

We were led to stand in front of a hole. We watched then as the priest began to speak, and then the shoe box my Pa pa was in was closed and put into the deep hole. I was tugging on my daddy’s hand, that held the umbrella as they threw dirt on top of him.

My father had shushed me a good ten times before the hole had been filled and people began putting flowers on the grave mark. My father set me down and nudged me to do the same with my rose, I had been holding it so tight it was wilting.

I had some how come to the realization during my frantic tugging that my pa pa was not meant to come back out of the shoe box and that he was indeed dead. He was dead like my little tadpoles were, he was dead like my lightning bug friend would be.

I walked up then with my sister Sarah holding my left hand and Jessica doing the same for Sarah, as my mother came to stand beside us. At that moment I, like my mother and the rain was also crying. I put the rose down and wiped my eyes to rid them of the tears. But it seemed to be a futile attempt. Sarah was in no better state than I, as she hiccuped and wailed like she had done since birth, Jessica stood without a tear, her hands shook as if an Earthquake was erupting through her entire body.

The rain stopped soon after, as people departed. Not even my Nana was lingering there any more. I still stood in front of the grave however, as a few tears still streaked my child like face.

I felt my mother’s presents beside me and looked up with teary eyes.

“Why do people that we love leave us behind?” I asked with a shaky voice.

Now that I think back I never did get an answer, and when I brought it up in later years my momma still didn’t have an answer for me. It seemed I had never said such a profound thing, my mother had said when I asked after years had pasted. But that was all she had said, as she let a tear fall down her cheek again and only then did I wish for the sun to appear and the rain to be nonexistent.