Souls - XIII

I’m rubbing my scar, I don’t even realize it first but I am. We’re staring at each other. She’s staring into the headlights, standing over her grandpa’s dead body, I am sitting in the car, my index finger massaging my c-section scar. Neither of us make a move towards the other. The rhythm of the pulsating sky seems to extend the moment, as if we were trapped in time; two women mourning the same damaged man into eternity. 

She finally drops to him, gingerly pulling him in her arms making sure not to damage the dead man even further. Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car. She doesn't seem to notice, I move closer. She looks up to me, her green eyes bloodshot from grief. 

“What happened? Why?”

“I…I don’t know. He just turned and he…I don’t know.” These are the first words my daughter hears her mother speak. 

The silence that follows almost makes me offer to call 911, but in this new world that was a useless offer. There were no real emergency situations and there was most definitely no crews to respond to them if they occurred. These days deaths were mostly self-inflicted, and even when they weren't they were seen as a generally acceptable outcome of a day.

Instead I just stand, shifting my eyes from my dead father to my living daughter. I didn’t know either of them still existed a day ago.

“Can I help?” That’s what I say, it seems like a good idea at the time. 

She stands, the fresh blood making her faded dress vibrant again, and makes her way back to the house. She goes inside.

I look down to my dad, his glassy eyes looking up to me. 

Dammit dad. 

She comes back out with two shovels, trying her damnedest not to weep.

“Have to get him in the ground before the scavengers come around.”

I’m not sure which kind of scavengers she’s referring to and decide not to ask. Instead I nod, take a shovel and start digging.

The sound of metal hitting dirt, and then dirt falling on dirt fills the silence. My mind is debating between awkward silence or awkward conversation.

“So, he was your grandpa?” Awkward conversation it is. 

She nods, staying silent. She prefers awkward silence.

“Are you alone out here?” She stops and looks at me to decide if this is a threatening question or just a dumb one.

“Now I am.” I love the sound of her voice, it’s as if my soul can feel that her voice is intertwined with my being. 

“I’m so sorry Mary, I don’t know why…”

She glances up, interrupting my condolences.

“How’d you know my name?” My body reels, partly because I’ve outed myself and partly because she has the name I gave her the day she left me.

“He mentioned you.”

She lowers her head and nods.

“You can sleep here if you need the rest.”

The thought of sleeping under the same roof as my daughter makes my heart swell. I can only nod in response. 

The sound of metal hitting dirt, and then dirt falling on dirt fills the air again; the conversation over. I can’t help but go in a daze, there’s only so much surreal a girl can take.

The sound of the car idling in the background finally breaks through my surrealistic trance. I somehow left the car running. I race back and turn it off, noticing my cell phone on the seat. It has a message on the screen. 

“Afraid I’m going to need her soul.”