I stood over my parents grave, throwing the handful of dirt I had inside. My face was as expressionless as the headstone that lain before me. 'Beloved Mother and Father, Always with us in spirit.' I scoffed at the saying bitterly. 'Always with is in spirit." Always with us? Pathetic. They are in heaven, I know that by the many church services and the prayer that they did, in fact, love and obey and believe in God and Jesus. There is no way they are here beside me when they could be up there with Jesus. Yeah right.
I straightened my black dress as my pastor came over to me, holding out a card and then sitting down at a bench a few feet away. He knew to keep his space with me. I told him many years ago how the bullies would hurt me in school, getting close and then striking. But he kept his distance and nodded at the grave.
"Shame, isn't it?" He said quietly, wringing his hands. I shook my head suddenly, tears threatening to burst forth. I turned to him, staring into his eyes, that were too filled with reserved tears.
"Not really. They had a good, long life and they're where they want to be. The funeral was a bit boring to be honest." I said, sliding his card into my purse (which was originally my moms old purse.). He stood, angry.
"That, Katherine, is disrespectful and rude!" He snapped. I stepped toward him, fire in my eyes.
"THEY WOULD HAVE NEVER WANTED A FUNERAL LIKE THAT AND YOU KNOW IT! IT SAID IN THEIR WILL SPECIFICALLY-" He cut me off, slapping my cheek harshly.
"It's unnatural to have a funeral like that. Rejoicing and praising the Lord for death?! No way. They died and have died respectfully." I pushed my face into his, my fists clenched.
"You always said we can't go around our lives, just praising God whenever something good happens, and right when things get tough to curse him. Same thing here. We celebrate when a baby is born, but the instant someone falls I'll or dies, we curse God and blame him. At my funeral, I want people worshiping and praising God for everything he's given me!"
I sprinted off, running through the aisles of gravestones, sobbing all the way. I came to my father's old car and jetted off, heading right to my house.
It seemed to empty now. My house, my yard, the lake. Yes, I live on a lake. In Michigan, living on a lake can be common, depending on where you are at. Yes, it is empty. My dad was an engineer and he put a supercharged motor in his boat, so it's the fastest and the loudest boat on the lake. By now, he would be jetting around on the glass-like water, probably skiing or surfing the wake.
I pulled into the driveway, the engine coming to a spluttering stop. I looked around the car, knowing it'd be the last time I saw it. Being a book and movie reviewer doesn't bring much cash in. I already knew that so I put an ad on Craigslist for buyers and I had one lined up for the red Camry.
As I walked inside, I noticed it was a beautiful day. Why couldn't it rain so I'd be more compelled to stay inside and mourn?
"With the weather like this, it'd be a waste to spend the day inside." My mother always said that to me when I'd be reading or writing up reviews on my laptop. I'd usually just ignore her, but now it felt like I should just get away from mourning. I already knew I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, so I changed into some jean shorts and a shirt, heading to the fishing shed.
Whenever I'm stressed out or worried, a lure in the water and a rod in my hands is the best way to ignore it. I strung the bobber on the line, about a foot and a half from the sparkling lure. I wrapped a slimy worm around the hook, pricking myself in the process. As I walked to the dock I sucked on my thumb, tasting the blood in my mouth and almost choking.
Thunk
Click
Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiizzzzzzzzeeee
Plunk
Ka- whirrr whirrr whirrr
I sighed as my muscled suddenly relaxed, the tears finally dried off my face. I felt a nibble and I quickly reeled it in. I was disappointed as I pulled a huge clump of weeds onto the dock, no flopping fish like I had imagined. I tossed it back into the water and casted again. This time I jerked on the rod, making the lure stop short.
A cardboard box had appeared in the middle of the lake.
I pulled the lure back in timidly, trying to get a better look at the box. It was then I heard something that truly terrified me. Something that rang in my soul and made me leap, not thinking of the consequences.
A baby's cry.
I was never a mother, just a babysitter. There should be no reason why my body acted the way it did. Why did I jump so suddenly? Why the burst of adrenaline? Why did my body tremble and shake so as I neared the box, hoping it wasn't sinking and drowning the child?
Some might say it was a premonition.
I came to the box, not even looking inside, and made for the shore beside my house. I had never swam so fast in my life, and as I approached the shoreline, my legs and arms felt like lead and my breath was shallow and ragged. I pulled myself to the sand, gasping for air as I pulled the box in front of me, away from the cursed water.
When I finally calmed down I decided to look into the box. I sat up, carefully pulling the box to myself. I saw several white sheets surrounding a moving being. I reached in and pulled the edge, revealing the source of the cries.
I blinked. I took a huge breath in. I looked around, counted my fingers, and pinched myself to check if I was dreaming. None of that helped.
A gray mare with a blonde mane was laying in the box, coughing up a little bit of water. Even with my poor knowledge of My Little Pony I inherited from my brother, who was now in College, I was able to recognize the filly.
"Ditzy? Ditzy Doo?" The baby horse cooed, putting a corner of the wet blanket into it's mouth. I gently pulled it out and she began to cry. I reached in, and she cringed away from me, fear reflecting in her eyes. I smiled, showing her I meant no harm.
"It's okay... I just want to help you... It's okay..." I continued to sooth her and she allowed me to pick her up with the blankets. I quickly looked around, seeing nobody and making sure nobody saw anything as I walked back to my house. Derpy snuggled into my chest, shivering from the dampness of her coat. As we entered, I pulled off my shoes and got warm water running in the bathtub. The pony shyly stood, peering around and trying to walk on the sheen surface.
"Derpy?" She sneezed in response and I lifted her gently into the tub filled with warm water. She swam around a moment, then eyed the bright blue bottle of shampoo, spilling it into the water. I was barely angry.
"I would expect nothing less from Ditzy Doo!" The bubbled rose as I removed the shampoo bottle, and the pony tried to swallow the bar of soap. Finally, in a moment of desperation, I removed all of the objects near the tub and put them on the counter. Just as I was finishing, I saw Ditzy raise the razor to her mouth.
"NO DERPY!" I grabbed the razor quickly just as she cut her upper lip a little. The blood began to taint the water as she cried, holding her muzzle. I put the razor in the garbage and I pulled her out of the tub, sopping wet, and pulled out the First Aid Kit.
I had a lot to learn.
