Written by Gene Cashman III

ebecca awoke. Piercing rays of sunlight were cutting through her dusty blinds. She blurrily made out crystalline particles floating between the blinding beams. Her vision was impacted by the manufactured cataracts that were her dried contact lenses. She extended her arms and stretched out in the bed, both her elbows popped. She must’ve dozed off when she sat down to rest. The sheets were damp with perspiration and her face was flush. The air conditioning must have gone out again. She cursed this reality under her breath. It was getting late and the likelihood of a service call was not good. Outside she could hear a dog barking and children playing. It must be Rachel’s children, but the dog -- she wasn’t sure where to place the dog. She lay back in the bed and tried to remember who in the neighborhood owned a dog.

A firm rap on the door forced Rebecca to refocus on the task at hand, the one her nap interrupted. Her feet slid into worn, warm house-shoes and with a quick figure eight the knot on her robe was fastened. She proceeded with the caution of a tightrope walker, carefully stepping over neatly arranged piles of clothing, books, and papers. The knock on the door became more persistent. “I’m coming, please be patient,” she called out just as a large stack of National Geographic magazines spilled off a table.

Rebecca fumbled with the lock. It was a heavy new lock, installed just weeks before. She had never really been able to turn it and needed two hands to get it to budge. She had been meaning to put some WD-40 on it, but the garage had never really been a place she’d been familiar with.

Since none of the neighbors had thought to offer help, she continued to struggle to open her front door. Finally she managed to turn the lock, but still she fumbled with the decorative handle. Her hands were now sore. Rebecca was tired and frustrated.

“Afternoon, m’aam,” a young voice called through the storm screen. It was Thomas Harley. She had known Thomas and his family since they moved to Bluffton years ago and had called his mother to ask if he would mind helping her pack boxes. Rebecca sighed as he walked past. She bemoaned the work to be done.

“It’s harder now,” she mumbled as she shuffled behind Thomas. “I just have a hard time lifting the heavy stuff.” Thomas continued on through the kitchen and without even turning back said, “It’s not a problem, it won’t take long.”

Rebecca watched as Thomas lifted and carried several large boxes to the bed of a red pick up. She remembered when the truck was new and of long Sunday drives. It now looked old and faded. Thomas worked quickly; the pickup’s bed was now full of boxes. Rebecca mused at how much older Thomas looked than the last time she’d seen him. “So,” she called out “You’re what, a sophomore now?” Thomas looked up “Yep.” Rebecca could remember back to when he was knee high. He loved playing in their backyard because of the magnolia trees’ thick, low limbs. Those days seemed so long ago she thought, staring through Thomas at the large magnolia.

The light was beginning to fade and even though it was a hot afternoon, Rebecca felt a chill. She walked across the backyard and through the open garage door. Several lawnmowers, fertilizers and other assorted yard tools littered the space. She stepped over and around the obstacles until she reached the rusted refrigerator in the back. The handle was old fashioned and popped when she gave it a tug. A dim lightbulb illuminated several six packs of beer. There was an assortment of brands. She grabbed two dark bottles and walked back to the porch.

The crisp pop of the bottle opening made Thomas look up. This caused Rebecca to smile for the first time that day. “I brought you one too,” she said. “I figure a sophomore in college can drink a beer.” Thomas loaded a few more boxes and walked over, sweaty from the work. “Thanks,” he said as he plopped down beside Rebecca “So, where from here?” Rebecca took a long draw on the bottle. It was cold, very cold, and tasted good. “I don’t really know,” she thought, but looked up and smiled at Thomas “Well, I have always wanted to see Vermont in the fall.”

Thomas was right in his estimation. It took him no time to load the truck. She thanked him for the work and he thanked her for the beer. “Tell your mother hello,” she said as he trotted down the drive. He simply waved in response. “Boys,” she thought, shaking her head and smiling, halfway remembering better days. “God love em.” She stood in the drive, in her bathrobe and watched him go until she was alone in the fading light. Reluctantly she walked back into the hot and now emptier house. The weight returned to her chest. It was suffocating to be back in that house.

There was really nothing for her to do except remember. The television had been sold, the internet disconnected. She didn’t really want to call her mother. She wasn’t hungry, but knew she needed to eat. The beer made her feel lightheaded. She opened the cabinet. Earl Grey stared back at her, the same Earl Grey she’d asked him to get up and make that fateful morning. She crumpled in a heap on the floor and sobbed whole body, heaving sobs. So deep were the cries that the weeping came to the point of no noise, save her gasping for air. She cried herself to sleep and remained there on the floor well into the morning’s early hours. Only angels keeping vigil on her fragile soul kept her from slipping into the shadowy depths of deadly despair.

“I don’t want to stay,” she said aloud, speaking to the bright moon shining in through the kitchen window. “I don’t have the strength.” An angel sitting on the stove smiled, but tried not to tremble too loudly. The angel knew she had the strength and would do great things. “You’re just starting your life,” a voice in her heart called. She exhaled and stared at the moon with curiosity until it was just a silvery speck in the morning’s blue sky. Her eyes grew heavy and she dreamed of things to come.

Rebecca awoke again to a knock at the door. It swung open with a loud thud. Two little boys burst through with childish exuberance. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” they screamed and ran into her open arms. Rebecca stood up with a new strength. She hugged the boys and smiled. She had molted the sorrow that held her spirit hostage the previous day and now stood confident in what she must do. “Sweeties,” she said “we need to throw a party.” The boys yelped and hollered “For what, for what!?” they cried. Rebecca knelt down and cupped the youngest child’s face in her hands “for Daddy.” The sweet angel smiled knowing the wonderful things that were still in store for brave Rebecca.