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Black again. She lifted the plastic shroud off her black crepe dress. The last time she had worn this was at her mother’s funeral. One month ago almost to the day. Another funeral. How many more before it was her own? How many more before it was his? When she was younger she would have these spells of morbidity. She would be walking with him to school chatting about how cursive was stupid and pointless and someday when they were grownups they would invent a machine that would write out whatever you spoke. And then she would feel dizzy, her vision clouded with dark spots like flies crawling in a glass jar. She would clutch onto a fence post or his arm, overtaken with the sensation of falling, the sensation of emptiness. Overtaken with the sudden flash of realization that someday she would be ashes or under the dirt feeding the earth and nature’s never-satisfied hunger for its creations to return to it. Even at that young age, she knew death. And that knowledge made her a starving thing. She had been starving all her life. For her father’s missing presence, for her mother’s approval and even then for his forever loyalty. ********************************************************** ”What’s the matter Summers? You feel sick or something?” She dropped her red cloth schoolbag and clutched at his arm. They were almost at the schoolyard and his cheeks were pink with the cold and embarrassment. He was staring past her wide stricken eyes and pale pinched face towards the tire swings where Angel and Xander were sitting, swinging back and forth and swapping baseball cards. She knew what he was thinking. ‘God, don’t let them see Summers holding my arm.’ They were ten and boys and girls were supposed to hate each other. She felt like she couldn’t get enough air. As if the air was thick as molasses, clogging in her mouth and nostrils. She gasped for breath, her mouth open and trembling. “Will, I feel strange.” Now he was staring at her suspiciously. “Are you gonna throw up? Because my mother just bought me this coat and she’ll kill me if it gets dirty.” She shook her head fiercely. “No. No, I…do you ever think that someday, you’ll be dead and gone and you’ll never be able to see anything again or hear anything or taste anything?” He frowned at her. “What are you talking about?” She clutched onto his arm tighter. “Do you ever think about being dead? That you’ll never come back and you’ll just be…” She took a deep quavering breath and whispered because her throat ached. “You’ll just be nothing. And after a while, no one will remember that you ever lived at all.” He shook his head slowly as if to clear it. “I know why you feel strange.” “Why?” “Because you are strange Summers. You’re off your nut, you know that? Jesus Mary and Joseph, only you would think about such stupid things. You’re not dead yet right?” Her mouth snapped shut and tightened with anger. “So?” He pinched her not so gently on the arm. “So snap out of it. Worry about it when you’re old and have grey hair and fifty cats.” She grimaced and pinched him back. “You don’t understand. I…I feel like this sometimes. Like I’m…like I’m falling.” He stared at her in confusion and rubbed the red spot on his arm that her fingers had left. She grabbed onto the chain links of the schoolyard fence, the icy winter wind seeping in through her scratchy boiled wool skirt and thick knitted stockings. She turned her face away from his gaze to stare through the chain links at the other kids shouting and laughing away the time before the school bell rang. “Will, sometimes I feel like I’m going to fall. Don’t let me fall.” He bent down and picked up her schoolbag and handed it to her. “Don’t be stupid. If you fall down and crack your head open, I am never going to speak to you again.” She bit her bottom lip hard and tried not to cry. He didn’t understand. When he spoke again, his voice was so whispery soft, it could have been the wind whistling by. “I won’t let you fall.” And suddenly, the weightless drifting feeling left her body. The ground was solid under her feet again. The world was still and still the same. She turned and skipped backwards away from him and towards the schoolyard entrance. “I’ll race you inside! Step on a crack and you’ll break your mother’s back!” She screamed with laughter as he frowned and chased after her through the chain link fence, his coat flapping open in the brisk winter wind. ************************************************************* I won’t let you fall. She whispered his long ago words over and over like a mantra as she slipped the black dress over her head and down her body. Driving to St. Vigious with the top of her father’s Buick down, the summer breeze seemed to murmur it over and over through her hair. Like a sweetheart’s promise hummed against her throat. I won’t let you fall. When she walked into the white clapboard church, she was taken aback. Everyone in the town was here. Everyone except for him of course. His mother was sitting at the front, her back ramrod straight and prim in a black wool dress that was completely inappropriate in the ninety-eight degree heat. Mr. Giles was standing next to the pulpit, conversing quietly with Father Lindsey. The sounds of clothing rustling and people shifting uncomfortably in the heat and the flapping of newspapers unfurled to serve as makeshift fans in the muggy church filled her ears. She saw Faith sitting on one side dressed in a vibrant sky blue sundress and Xander on the other, stone-faced and tanned against the blackness of his ill-fitting suit. Angel and Dru were sitting two rows behind Xander. Angel was also suited in black and Dru looked like a pale dreamy mermaid in her dark green dress and straw hat. She paused in the aisle, unsure of who to sit with. Faith waved at her and so did Angel and Dru but she made her way over to Faith because she was sitting alone. She inched past people, answering whispered greetings and murmuring apologies when she bumped into knees and shins. Finally she plopped down on the wooden pew next to Faith. Faith turned and beamed at her, lips slicked in scarlet gloss. “Hey B.” “Hi Faith. How are you?” Faith shrugged. “Okay.” Faith’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Check out Harris over there. He looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon. Jerk.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Faith, you know you want to go over and talk to him.” Faith grimaced and picked at a stray thread on her skirt. “I’d rather floss my teeth with razorblades.” She laughed despite herself. “Well…if you say so.” Faith turned to her and grinned conspiratorially. “I haven’t seen you for almost two weeks. What’s been keeping you busy? Or who?” She flushed and dropped her gaze. Stared at her hands and tried to swallow over the dryness in her throat. It was still so hard for her to talk about him. “No one’s supposed to know that I’ve been to see him.” “Come on B, this is me. I know what’s going on.” Faith stared at her knowingly. “I’ve known for a long time how you feel…about him.” “I…” “You love him.” She was shaken by how easily Faith could say that. How sure. She nodded, not trusting herself to say the words. It was one thing to say them to him. It was so much harder to tell other people. How could she explain the way she felt? More than love, more than friendship, more than words could encompass. Faith whispered in her ear. “Does he love you?” She shook her head. “It’s…it’s not like that. He…he’s lonely. We’re friends.” Faith snorted. “Yeah, I’ve got friends too. But I don’t sleep with them. I bet you can’t say the same about you and him.” She turned bright red. “Faith…it’s not that simple.” Faith huffed in disgust. “Okay B? Excuse me while I roll my eyes so hard they might fall out of my head. Everyone is always saying shit like that. Oh, it’s so complicated. It’s so hard. It’s not simple blah blah blah. You know what? It IS that simple. It’s just two people who have feelings for each other and should be together dammit. Who cares if it’s not love. It’s something. It’s better than no feelings. Better than nothing, right?” She choked, half-caught between tears and laughter. “Stop making sense. You’re scaring me.” Faith grinned and rubbed her fingernails on her dress and blew on them. “Yeah, I scare myself sometimes with my incredible wealth of knowledge.” She couldn’t resist getting in a gentle jibe. “It’s good advice. Maybe you should take it yourself?” She inclined her head slightly in Xander’s direction. Faith glared over at Xander who glared back and crossed his arms over his chest peevishly. “It’s complicated B.” Now she had to laugh. She muffled her giggles behind her hand. “Of course. It always is.” She shared a weary smile with Faith. Men…so much trouble. And just when you were ready to give up on them altogether, they proved themselves impossible to let go of. So many men in her life, always slipping away. Always out of her reach. Her father, Will, even Angel and Riley. Was there something about her that made her easy to leave? Easy to let go of? Angel had ended their brief relationship, all her fault. Riley had agreed willingly to a divorce after his initial confusion and hurt pride. Her father had never said good-bye. And Will…who probably never loved her at all. So many men, all wanted in their own ways. So many men, none really wanting her. “B?” Faith stared at her worriedly. She smiled reassuringly. “Sorry. Just drifted off for a bit.” Faith nodded and patted her hand. “The eulogy is about to begin.” She sat up straight as Father Lindsey moved behind the pulpit. An almost audible hush fell over the church. His eyes were afire with righteousness, with the light of a thousand candles flickering into flame. When he spoke, it was like the rushing of angels’ wings. “We are gathered here today not for a sad good-bye to a much respected friend and member of this community. We are here today to celebrate a life of duty to others. A life lived in service to the living. Doctor Travers has asked in a note written before his death, that we do not indulge in sadness or the spoken word. Rather he has requested that his life and death be remembered in another way. He left us with this.” Father Lindsey nodded towards Mr. Giles, who pushed a button on a tape player. There was a whirring and then voices. O Fortuna She grabbed onto Faith’s arm, not caring that her fingernails dug into Faith’s flesh. Faith winced. She stared at her wildly. “What is this?” “I-I don’t know B.” She got to her feet shakily, her whole body trembling. Dimly over the rushing in her ears, she heard people whispering. When her voice rang out over the buzz of the others, over the crashing of the music, she sounded mad even to her own ears. Shrill and insane. “What is this?” Father Lindsey’s voice boomed out from behind the pulpit. His dark brows were knit in confusion and irritation. Mr. Giles was staring at her, disbelief in his eyes. She knew she was making a scene. She didn’t care. “Please take your seat.” She turned her head to look wildly at the faces swimming before her eyes. Xander, Angel and Dru, Faith, Mrs. James. So many faces staring, staring, staring. Whispering about her. Lies, everyone was lying. No one would tell her the truth. She was surrounded by lies and betrayals. She pointed a shaking finger at Mrs. James, who was staring at her with a concerned frown. “You. I know what you’re trying to do.” She could hear gasps and the low buzzing whispers reaching a fever pitch. She was wild with confusion and fear and anger. She could not keep her trembling finger from moving from shocked face to shocked face as the music swelled higher. As the red haze clouding her mind rose higher and higher, whispering that everyone knew what she did not. Her words came out in a scream. “All of you! You’re all lying! What is this? What is this? What is this?” She felt Faith tugging on her arm. “B, calm down. Sit down for God’s sake.” She wrenched her arm away, her laugh shrill and broken. “Don’t tell me what to do! Don’t any of you tell me what to do!” Father Lindsey was shouting now. “Sit down or leave ma’am!” She stumbled through the aisle and ran out of the church, voices ringing in her ears. So many voices. the answers are within you/ what would happen if you could not look upon your neighbor without wondering if he or she was a cold-blooded murderer?/you love the past too much. how far will you go for it?/and then I met your father. It worked out for the best/you’re carrying a torch for him, aren’t you?/tell me, has he ever told you he loves you back?/look…don’t come back okay? It’s too dangerous/you have the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen… So many voices, all blurring into one. Her darkest voice, humming over all the others. Death is all around you…surrender…death is your gift…deathdeathdeathdeath… Before she realized it, she was standing in the middle of the street. The sun, his summer sun blazing hot and full over her. Then all she heard was the screeching of tires and the blaring of a horn. Death is all around you. All around me. You think it is you but it is me. Everything I love dies. Everything I am is death. |