And the Light Fades (chapter 2 part 2)

The house is warm and I am grateful that I am here, but I can’t help but wish I was at home. Sophia is in the kitchen still, watching her mother as she washes the dishes by hand, waiting to be able to dry them. I never understood why Aunt Jessa always insisted on doing the dishes by hand instead of using the dishwasher that in the counter beside the refrigerator.

Aunt Jessa welcomes me, she smiles and returns back to the dishes. She is wearing a dark blue dress, so blue it’s almost black and a white pearl necklace. Her red-brown hair is straightened and falls over her shoulders. I turn when Uncle Collin walks into the room with his tux on. He is wearing a blue tie that matches Aunt Jessa’s dress. The tackiness of this doesn’t sit right with me. That along with the dread that is eating away at my empty stomach makes me sure that this is going to be terrible.

The ride to the church is very quiet. No one says a word, and I’m happy for that. I think if anyone said anything I would crack. Sophia looks sorrowfully out the window and Aunt Jessa keeps her head bowed, her little blue bible—the one she keeps in the glove box—in her hand. I think she is getting ready for what is about to happen. I don’t know what to expect because I’ve never been to a funeral, but from the way Aunt Jessa’s acting right now I know it’s not going to be good.

Sophia says there should be a closed casket because of the way Mom died. I hope there is I don’t know if I could take looking at her charred body, not able recognize her face that looked so much like my own. Although I think being able to see her like her normal self would only break me more.

I can imagine her face, before she got sick. The gray of her eyes sparkling with happiness and the red in her hair less visible than mine or even Aunt Jessa’s. I smile and close my eyes, my head pressed on the cool glass of the window. I want remember her the way I did when she was happy when we all were happy.

Picturesque memories flash through my mind’s eye. But then they change from beautiful to horrid warped pictures. They are all tinted red, like the burns that still cover Sophia’s arms. I can see Mom with the cigarette and the lighter, her eyes lifeless. She is alive and yet so dead at the same time, like she’s trapped by her body and her soul is struggling to get out.

Then the images of what I didn’t see come in. Sophia walking through the living room, a cigarette burning into the carpet, popping. Mom stands there her eyes still glazed and unloving with another cigarette in her hand, she is smoking it blowing ringlets through her curved mouth. Sophia coughs when the smoke fills the air. She stops coughing and tells Mom to drop it, to let the cigarette fall to burn the floor. The paper tube falls from Mom’s hand and lands on the other cigarette, igniting the paper of the other tube. It pops against the carpet and a flame appears, it is small but it is finding fuel in the carpet.

“Alyce, God, what’s happening to you,” Sophia’s voice is loud in the small space of the car. I must have moved. I move away from the window, it makes a smack as I am relieved of the suction. I look out the window and can see the church in front of us. I watch as people—mostly dressed in black—walking from their cars to the door of the chapel.

“Don’t just sit there, get up,” Sophia orders. I look at her, and then to the front seat, neither my aunt nor uncle is here. “They’ve already gone inside,” Sophia informs me, reaching over across me and opening the door on my side.

“I could have done that,” I tell her, she doesn’t look at me, she just gets out on the passenger’s side and walks around the back of the car. I am still struggling with the seat belt. I don’t know if I’m just nervous or if I am actually unable to unbuckle the belt from around my waist. My fingers on my right hand are numb; they feel like they are asleep. Finally the buckle clicks and I am free.

“But you wouldn’t have,” Sophia mumbles under her breath. I scowl at her. I want to tell her off, to make sure she knows where we are going because I don’t really think she does. I want to tell her that my mother is dead, that she’s gone forever, there’s nothing anyone can do about it, but that would make it worst. I stay quiet. After a moment she starts out toward the door of the church on the other side of the parking lot. I follow her, my shoes clinking against the asphalt.

Sophia pushes the doors apart and the room behind them goes silent. We walk across the red carpet quietly, the groups of people moving out of my way. I don’t say anything about their whispers that buzz in my ears; I just walk with my head tall into the sanctuary where the people who aren’t in the front entranceway are sitting, whisper quietly, talking about my mother no doubt. I feel like I’m going to collapse in the isle, falling inbetween the rows of pews.

When we reach the front pew Sophia makes me sit at the end right beside the isle then she sits down in between me and Uncle Collin. There we sit, me, Sophia, Uncle Collin, and Aunt Jessa—the only living family members of Suzanna Averyson.

I feel like I’m going to be sick as the pastor walks down the isle, stopping in the front to shake my hand, his hand

is warm, but it doesn’t help the frigidness I feel. I watch as he opens the bible on the podium. The spine creaks and I can hear the thin pages rustle as he flips to the right page, but I’m sure no one else can hear it.

“We are all gathered here today to honor in remembrance the life of Suzanna Jacobs Averyson.” The pastor says, his voice is higher pitched than most men and he licks his lips a lot when he speaks. I watch him, his words not even reaching my ears, as he pushes up his glasses again. That’s three times now.

Beside me Sophia squeezes my hand. It is smooth and gentle. I don’t look at the pastor anymore, I can’t stand to see him lick his lips or fix his glasses one more time. I look at the casket. Inside is my mother, none of her beauty would have followed her to this place. It is sealed shut with silver clasps that glitter on the white.

My stomach begins to churn, dread causing it to tumble like clothes in a dryer. I have to get out of here. I wiggle my hand out from under Sophia’s and manage to get half way to the door before I burst into tears.