fenris23

Thirteen Steps
by fenris23

The air felt like it should have had dust in it, it was a brownish gray with no sign of cloud or sun. The trees all had branches hanging like willows, the flash freeze having hit after unseasonable warmth. A crow drifted easily onto a bowed treetop from where I knew not. At least I had a companion on my dismal journey. He, I guess it was a he, moved as if to call but then sensing somehow that it was not yet time he settled.

I walked up the porch stairs and found myself at her door. I reached for the doorbell but hesitated and pulled my arm back. Knocking, I felt, was more fitting. I stood. I wanted to leave. If I left now only the crow would know of my cowardice. I shook off the passing fancy and pulled open the screen door, which creaked a bad horror movie sound effect. No one was taking care of little details anymore, had he been sick long?

I reached out and gave the door with it three little windows three solid knocks, as the reaper must have four days ago. There was a shuffling, a shambling, behind the door. I could feel my face harden.

The door opened and it was her, my stepmother. She was dressed in black, of course the grieving wife. The dress looked old like something Jackie Kennedy might have worn except it was on someone twice her size and with a matronly body shape.

Come in, she said her curled gray hair pulled motionless in a bun. She closed the door and dead bolted it and even slid the chain into place. She had me now and wasnt planning to let me go easily.

She turned to me a tear in her eye and said, Oh Tommy! How theatrical.
Thomas, I said cold and hard.

Tom, she said the negotiation ended in a compromise as it had to with her. She always had to gain ground. She held out her left hand in a gesture that begged for a hug.

I grabbed the hand with my right and gave it a little squeeze. I didnt know how to resist this contact. Sarah, I said, my voice softer than I would have liked. I looked away and I saw his picture and wondered if he left it all for her like he did when his marriage died.

Do you want some tea?

No.

Some coffee?

No thank you, I replied. Listen can we just get this done? I am tired. I kind of want to go back to my motel and sleep.

Oh, she said quietly and she seemed smaller suddenly, lets go up stairs then.

We walked up the narrow staircase a warm flex to the steps, carpet over hard wood. We passed the smaller bedroom that she had offered to let me stay in and entered the main bedroom. She pointed at the bed. It was a two-person bed but smaller than a queen size. It had a floral motif quilt with vine and rose and touches of baby blue. On top of this was a dark blue suit with a reddish brown wet clay silk tie.

This is where your father died.

I felt a lurch and my stomach moved as if gravity had suddenly irreparably changed direction. There was a sound. A crow call. It was followed by a second and a third. I turned and looked behind me.

Out the window on the tree he perched. His task finished, he left. A shadow.

The service is tomorrow and the will reading is the next day.

What is this suit? I asked my voice breaking slightly, he never wore a suit like this.

He bought it for our twentieth anniversary in March, tears welled in her eyes.

Twenty years.

I have to go to my motel, I had to get some air. Its late.

So late.

_______________

I met up with Posh yesterday on her layover in Vancouver and hung out and ate food in the airport. She was suprised to see me. I told her twice that I was coming. But I guess because I never bothered to ask her what flight she was on she assumed I was all talk. Learn now people of SG land. This is as close to planning as I come. Hey I am going to go such and such. and then I go. If I can get a hold of a friend I might be in Calgary tomorrow. This is how I plan.