Bye Bella

The violent shaking had slowly subsided into a light trembling, but the tears continued to streak down Maxwell’s freckled cheeks. He was certain that his head was going to split in half from the pain, but he didn’t care and he wouldn’t dare tell someone in case they tried to take her away.
He couldn’t recall how long he’d been sitting on the shiny wooden floorboards, propped up against the wall. He vaguely remembered his legs giving way, and the pain, his arms trembling from the weight of her. Some had endeavoured to take her away, but he had shouted and screamed “No, No, No, No” over and over again until they stopped.
Its all my fault, Maxwell thought, if I hadn’t gone over to Tim’s house, Bella would still be alive.
When he found Bella, he was sure she was just sleeping. She was on her favourite sofa, enjoying the warm afternoon sun that glowed through the windows making an array of sparklingly patterns dance along the walls. Max had slowly crept up, sat down next to her and began stroking her head. When Bella didn’t responded with her usual snuggle Max knew something was wrong. He placed his fingers under her nose and when no warm air escaped, he began to call her name and shake her.

Maria was upstairs humming one of her favourite gospel hymns, her massive bottom swaying to the rhythm while she sent the steaming iron running over the freshly laundered shirts. When the screams reached her ears; she rushed down the hallway, bounding two steps at a time, the tightly woven braids flying wildly, whipping her across the face. She burst into the sitting room her chest heaving under her immense weight, to find Max cradling Bella against his chest, tears streaming down his face.

“Ah, Max …. I'm so sorry! Maria whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “So sorry Max ... here, I will take her.”

“NO ! Don’t touch her” he yelled.

The blow forced Maria to step back in shock. In all the years she had worked for the Danfield family, not once had Max ever raised his voice to her. Under the circumstances she decided not to take offence, but thought it best to give him some privacy to mourn and to calm down.
At five o’clock Maria came back downstairs to prepare dinner. Max was still there; he hadn’t moved an inch, still sobbing with Bella in his arms. She knew it wasn’t healthy; he had to let her go, but he wasn’t going to listen her. She decided to call Maxwell’s mother, only she could convince him, make him understand that certain things must to be taken care of. But when Max’s mother arrived she received a similar reception to Maria’s.

Maxwell could hear the hum of several voices around him, but he was too exhausted to look up and see who they belonged to. He continued to sit on the cold floor, his head slanted to one side, his grip on Bella never faltering.
“Come my boy, its time to let her go. You can’t keep her here with you like that. Don’t you think she would appreciate a nice burial?”
Max knew the voice at once, the undeniable tone of firm yet loving authority brought Max’s eyes fluttering open. The face that appeared in front of him was round like the baubles that hung off the Christmas tree.

“No Dad, its my fault…. If I had been here she would still be alive!”

“It was Bella’s time Max, you knew it was coming, we discussed this just last week and you said you understood and were ready. So now its time to be strong, just like you promised, and show Bella the love and respect she deserves.”

At that Max’s Dad lifted both Max and Bella up effortlessly, setting Max on his feet leaving a supportive hand on his shoulder. He led Max out the back door, round to his garden shed. He gestured for Max to wait and disappeared into its darkness briefly returning with two shovels. A fresh batch of tears threatened, but he forced himself to stay composed in front of his father, whom even at this point he so badly wanted to impress.

They headed towards the Avocado tree on the far left-hand side of the garden. Both Max and his dad stopped a couple feet before it to admire its majesty and beauty. Max could remember all the wonderful times him and Bella had shared under the tree. How in autumn they would lie on their backs for hours, staring up into the puzzle of branches. Waiting in anticipation for a breeze to come and seduce the golden leaves to leave their home and float down to form a crunchy blanket over them.
Max reluctantly handed Bella over to his father and pulled his jumper off over his head. He laid the red fabric down on the grass as his father stepped up behind him ready to hand Bella back. Max lowered Bella Down onto the ground, making sure to place her head gently on the make-shift pillow, his hand lingering on her for a brief moment before he stood back up.
“I want to do it …. alone.” Max’s voice was shaking with emotion but his expression was serious.
“Its will take you hours Max, it needs to be a very big hole and I don’t mind helping.”
“Please, I can do it” was all he replied. Max’s Dad gave him a simple nod of approval, placed his shovel on the ground and walked up to Bella.
“Good-Bye Isabella, we will all miss you deeply.”

Max was not sure how long he had been digging, but the insides’ of his hands burned and they were turning the same colour as the jumper. At first the digging was slow, constantly interrupted by his hand reaching up to wipe his eyes and nose, but when he had no more tears to cry Max became determined to finish the hole before sunset. Although his throat stung from being parched Max continued to dig and dig, he dug until he was completely sure the hole was big enough for Bella.
When he was done, Max dropped the spade down and slowly walked up to Bella, knelt down beside her and rested his head upon hers.
“I am so sorry Bella, please forgive me. I should have stayed at home with you. I know Dad says it was your time to go but I don’t want to be without you. I will miss you and think about you every day, I Promise ! I love you so much and I will see you when it’s my turn to go to heaven. Merry Christmas Bella.”
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The Sun was setting; one by one the lights were switched on in the Danfield house, highlighting the path Maria had been pacing up and down for the last 2 hours. Mr Danfield had told her to give Max his space, that he could deal with this alone and would come back to the house when he was ready. But she had grown anxious and told herself that she would just go check up on him, make sure he was okay. By the light of her torch she found her way to the end of the Garden, stopping a few steps in front of the avocado tree.
There at the foot of the tree lay Max, curled up with his knees drawn to his chest, his head resting on the mound of damp soil. Maria quickly pulled a tissue out the front of her apron and held it to her mouth, afraid to wake Max from the sound of her weeping. He looked so small and exhausted, Maria loved Max as her own she had been there from the day of his birth and had played a major role in his parenting. She moved a little closer, careful not to shine the light directly in his eyes she inspected the grave. She couldn’t believe such a small little boy had dug such a big hole all by himself, no wonder he had passed out. She reached down, slipped her arms under him and lifted him up towards her chest. Just as she was about to begin the walk back to the house, something on the tree caught her attention. She angled the torch onto the bottom of the trunk where some wording was roughly scratched into the bark :

Isabella Danfield
Christmas 1984 – Christmas 1996
My best friend, The BEST DOG IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

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