He is standing still with the rain falling in stinging drops on his cheeks. The wind is blowing as wind does and tousles his hair around his eyes. But they do not move. They stay, as they have all day, on the freshly dug grave. The dirt of it stood out in the green field of grass and graves. Its shape perfect, as all new things are. Worms moved up and down in the earth and he thought of his wife, protected down below, in her wooden box. Protected from everything except time. Lying in that dress he had always loved her in. The tight blue one that clung to her legs. She hadn’t looked so good in it at the wake. She hadn’t looked like herself at all. Her eyes were waxy, ringed by red and her makeup had given her a clownish look. He had tried to close them, her eyes that is, but they had stubbornly refused. And gazed up at him with such anger that it made him chuckle and kiss his fingers and place them on her lips. The last affection he could offer her.
Friends and family, they had not spoken to in years had come today. Came like a plague. Came with their tears and laughter and their condolences. As they lowered her down into the grave he had watched them. Watched them as they hid their faces in handkerchiefs and shoulders. Watched anything else that wasn't the sight of her being dropped into the darkness of the grave. A bird. A robin he thought, landed on the headstone that was to be hers. Its red breast looked like a bloody wound and the rain and wind had ruffled up its feathers, making it appear larger than normal. He cursed the bird in his mind and knew he would think of her every time he saw a Robin now. It cocked its head and seemed to laugh as it flew away and left him to cast his eyes down just as the coffin hit the earth below the ground.
The family hadn’t stuck around for long after the service. He was glad to be rid of them. He wanted to think that it had been the increase of rain that had sent them away but he couldn’t be sure. One by one they had gone, leaving him alone to stare at her grave without the obligation of speech. He and she had always preferred it that way. Alone or together. It was all the same to them. It was the only way they could be comfortable. When they were together they felt the whole world fall away and it was heaven. But now heaven was just him.
The funeral had been finished for several hours and still, he hadn't moved. The rain had drenched him. His dark funeral clothes heavy with it and drops falling from his hair into his eyes and onto his nose. He didn't realise he wanted to leave until his head looked at his watch and he saw how late it was. He had been given a week off from work for the funeral and mourning and he was due to start again tomorrow. His back ached from standing still for so long and for the first time in a week he felt something other than loss. Anger seethed through him and he gritted his teeth. With a final glance down, he strode off over the grave and out onto the street. The sun had sunk and darkness preyed in every corner of the city. He steered clear of the main roads and walked down Timberly Lane. The absence of the sun left his clothes wet and his breath came out in white clouds and mingled with the night. He didn’t know where he was going. His heart hung heavy in his chest. The absence of her had been like a wound all week and now it had festered. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know who he was without her. Who are you without your god?
It seemed to be longer than just a week since she had gone. He remembered the night and how they had knocked twice on the door before he had opened it. How they had looked as they told him. How he gazed at them dry-eyed. How cold it was in the room where her broken body lay and the fear in his heart when he identified her. How she looked. The blood cleared from her face but the rest spread around her body. The pain of seeing her like that had still not left him. The night was like a tattoo. A permanent reminder engraved on his mind. Wrenching himself away from these thoughts he looked up and saw he was on the large bridge that split the city in two. A river ran fast and strong underneath it and, in the distance, he saw the lights of bars and clubs flashing. Iron railings held the bridge to the cliff faces that stood eye to eye on the two sides of the city. Cutting through the sky and catching the flashes of headlights as cars passed by. He walked with the same heavy step to the centre of the bridge and looked out at the night. The stars were out for the first time in months. Hanging high and free. Outside the toxic world they looked at. Free. He was thinking that he was glad they were out and that the rain that had stopped for a while. Looking down he saw the muddy reeds catching as the river dived through them in its endless roll and saw how the water deepened as it approached the middle of the river. It was grey and dark down below and when he looked hard he saw the faint glints of stars reflected in its water. With a carefree hand, he took off his funeral jacket and laid it deliberately on the railing. To a casual observer, it might have seemed, as he leaned both arms on the railing and leaned over slightly, that he was peering closer at the water. He peered with his eyes and saw the brick floor lying below the river. Saw how it would crack his skull and end his life if he was to leap. He thought of her lying on that cold slab and how good it would feel to see her. To touch her mad eyes and feel the skin that ran like ivory over her bones. He heard the chirping of a bird as he rocked back and forth and he looked with thin eyes at a robin that had landed on top of his jacket. Its head was cocked and its chirps were like laughter and the trickling of water as it falls from stones.
“I miss you,” he spoke as he watched the robin. Its red breast no longer wet and wound like. But firm and calm, like the chest of a sleeping woman. It stayed there for several minutes, bouncing around and chirping before with a final pause it flew away into the night. He stared at the spot where it was and smiled when he saw a single feather tucked in the sleeve of the jacket. He looked back down at the water and through its greyness and through the faint glints of the reflected stars he saw her face lying at the bottom. Calling to him and he felt that all he had to do was jump. He saw her lips and smile and he saw the faint greenness of her eyes. His arms tensed on the railing. He felt himself go forward slightly. Saw her smile grow larger. But as a tear fell from his eye he stepped backward. He closed his eyes and when he opened them she was gone. Clouds had moved across the sky and the stars now were hidden from him. He heard cries and laughter come from cars as they passed and the lights still flashed from both parts of the city. Everything was the same. He gave a sigh when he felt the rain start again to fall and pushed himself off the railings. He looked down at the jacket and gave a last sad smile at the blood red feather tucked in the sleeve. He reached out and touched it softly, his heart beating with aching rhythm, and then turned and walked away. The jacket stayed there for several minutes. Moving slightly as the wind and rain picked up until it drifted off the railing and into the river below.
Author bio:
William Hayward is a first year student at Newman University, studying English and Creative writing. He has been writing for about four years.
Comentários