Drewby

Thou art a dew-drop, which the morn brings forth,
Ill fitted to sustain unkindly shocks,
Or to be trailed along the soiling earth;
A gem that glitters while it lives,
And no forewarning gives;
But, at the touch of wrong, without a strife
Slips in a moment out of life.
-William Wordsworth

                                           
          He flew through the double doors, the night air following closely at his heels. Something was terribly wrong; it didn't take a genius to figure that out. His graying eyebrows were set, his forehead wrinkled in determination, but his lips quivered a bit as he walked up to the counter.
          "Dad? Wha--"
          "I need to talk to you," his voice trembled. "It's important."
          The girl walked purposefully around the registers and into the café. The arm chairs were plush and inviting, but she sat on the very edge— she could tell that now was no time for comfort.
          "... a few hours ago. I am so sorry."
          Her mind raced. Was it her sister? No... but from the look on his face she could tell that it was someone in the family. What was going on?
          "Who?"
          "Your cousin, sweetheart. Drew. He's gone."
         The blood drained from her body. She rose from the chair as if another being commanded her and walked back to the registers where her coworkers and boss stood. They had overheard; she didn't even need to ask if she could leave.
         "Go on, we'll take care of everything. Your dad's waiting outside."
         The girl silently walked out of the building and climbed into the truck, trying to avert her thoughts. She clawed at her arm, but all she could see was her cousin's smile. The new shoes cut into her sore feet, but she could only hear his voice.
         This couldn't be happening.
         The twenty minute drive was over before it began. The driveway was full of the cars of relatives and friends, so they parked in the yard; she kicked off her shoes before climbing out of the truck and stepped into the cool, damp grass.
         She paused as she shut the truck’s door behind her—why was she here again?
         It was the first time that she didn't knock before coming through the garage door into the kitchen. He had always teased her about that. As soon as the door opened, she was engulfed in a tearful mob. She was the newest arrival to be assimilated into the blubbering mess.
         "We know how close you two were. He loved you very much."
         She nodded silently. "Would you please pinch me?" she asked the nearest ear.
         "What?"
         "This isn't real; it can't be! We were going to Islands of Adventure Saturday, and I was going to surprise him and take him to Les Miserables!"
         More hugging, more sobbing, yet still she stood-- unmoving and in shock.
         The night continued slowly; she measured hours by how many red plastic cups were stacked precariously on the floor by her foot.
         After what seemed like an eternity her Aunt Dana, Drew’s mother, approached her, "I need your help. Follow me."
         Dana walked off in the direction of Drew's room. The girl rose off the couch and stepped over the mourners feet as she made her way out of the living room. By the door was Drew's cello and bass; she touched them gently as she walked past, and smiled.
         The house was a comfortable temperature, especially now that only the family was left to nibble the comfort foods brought by friends. After passing the threshold into Drew's room, it felt like she had just stepped into a walk-in freezer. The sudden burst of cold air shocked her. It was as if she briefly awakened from a terrible dream.
         "Dana, it's freezing in here!"
         "You know he died in here.... Have you heard the story yet?” You could tell she’d told the story a dozen times already. She continued, “Kate was the one who found him..."  Her voice trailed off.
         Dana began digging through Drew's personal things, trying to find his friends’ phone numbers to let them know about his funeral arrangements. There were so many gadgets and nothing they were looking for.
         The girl stood up quickly and looked around. "That was weird," she shuddered.
         "What?"
         "Didn't you just.... never mind. Here's his cell phone. I need some fresh air."  The girl left the room without a backwards glance and headed into the hallway. Something just wasn't right. Her face was white and she had the look of a scared rabbit.
         Seeing Drew's little sister for the first time that night she stammered, "Hi Kate... bye Kate," as she entered the family room. After faking a small smile, the girl turned and almost ran through the doorway into the hall leading to the living room. Somewhere between these two rooms she regained her cool composure and took a deep breath before facing the family again, but she wasn't prepared for what she saw next.
         Everyone was seated in a circle in the living room talking. When she entered the room, the talking ceased. She looked at everyone slowly and opened her mouth as if to speak. Then without warning, she took off running again, nearly slamming the front door behind her. The family shrugged and went on talking. No one bothered to follow the strange teenager who was now running barefoot down the street on a warm May night.
         She finally stopped when she reached the lake, there were no ghosts there. She could finally think. She noticed her feet were hurting and glanced down. She'd stubbed her toe and the blood was trickling down onto the blades of grass under her feet.
         "That smarts...." she thought as she dipped her toes into the warm lake water. The thought never occurred to her that the lake was just making it sting more, but she didn't care. Right now pain meant she was alive and thinking clearly.
         She grabbed the small cell phone she'd wedged in her shirt before racing out of the house and wondered who she could call. No one really came to mind except an old friend, Ryan. Maybe he could talk some sense into her. He was so practical... he could help her realize this was all a dream. They talked for almost an hour before the battery in her cell phone began to die and she had to hang up. The realization of what had happened was finally sinking in.
         "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!!! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSS... WHEEEEERRREEEEE AAAAAAAARRRREEEEEE YOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU!!!!" she heard her little sister, Blaire, yell.
         The girl got up and began walking back to the house, wincing with every step she took. Yeah, this was definitely real, she had the cuts on her feet now to prove it.
         No one spoke on the way home. In fact, no one said anything until the next morning when they drove back out to Drew's house. When they arrived, Dad parked just off the driveway so they were not in the way of the rest of the visitors, and Mom turned around to look at her daughters.
         "The pastor wants to talk to you about Drew's wishes for his funeral and burial that you two talked about at your grandmother’s funeral. After that, your cousins want to take you out to a movie or something. You need to not just hang out in the house all day."
         "Mm hm."
         "Blaire, you have the money right? Make sure your sister gets something to eat too."
         "Ok, mom."
         The girl's mind began racing, what had they talked about? Why did she have to do this? Couldn't she just write the plans down and let the family fight about it later? Of course not, the Parker family didn't work that way.
         The pastor was kind, a little too kind. They sat down at the table and began outlining what Drew had said only a few months earlier. “.... he wanted balloons too... and for me to wear red.”
         “Red?”
         “You are not wearing red to my son’s funeral!”
         “Now Dana, if that’s what he said, it’s a wish of his... You can wear red, sweetheart, if you’d like.”
         “That’s all I remember... can I go now?”
         “Of course.”
         She didn’t wait for anyone to change their mind. She was up and out the door before anyone else. She didn’t care what movie, or how far they drove or how lost they got. She just had to get out of the house.
         Death was a suffocating thing, not so much for the one who died, but for everyone left behind. Everywhere she went, someone was hovering just over her shoulder. Sometimes it was someone she could shoo away, other times it was a feeling she just couldn’t get rid of.
         It’s been six years now, and it all still seems like a bad dream I can’t wake up from.