Shaded by the bare branches of an aging maple tree a girl’s figure sat cross legged in front of a elegant grave. Her head hung gently, taking the battering of the harsh November wind without protest except for that of her cropped, blonde hair, which whipped around her face in defiance. She didn’t offer any sort of prayer or blessing but she simply sat, her eyes closed peacefully. Nearby a woman stood, flowers clutched to her chest, tears in her eyes. She spoke in a hushed voice to the stone she stood before.
“I love you. I want you to know that... as many times as I told you, I need to tell you again. I know you can hear me, and I love you... I love you so much... My baby girl...” Her words faded into soft sobbing and she kneeled before the grave and placed the flowers at it’s base. She repeated the simple words “I love you” whenever there was a break between her tears.
The seated girl opened her eyes to find the source of the words. Once her curiousity involving the origin of the sound was satisfied she found it hard to concentrate as she had before. She unfolded herself and stood slowly making her way down the slightly sloping hill to the walkway leading out of the cemetery. Where grass met pavement there was a slight step, which the distracted child neglected to take note of. As she stepped forward her toe caught on the elevated pathway and she fell forward with a surprised yelp. She thrust out her hands to break her fall, but the resulting pain startled her so that she quickly retracted them from the tempermental surface. Her palms and arms scraped against the pavement. She barely saved her face from suffering the same fate.
Her scream disrupted the grieving woman who jumped from her kneeling position in front of the grave stone and ran over to the injured blonde. She talked with such speed the girl could barely understand what was happening and before she knew it she was being lifted to her feet and helped along the small pathway to the cemetery’s gate.
“YoupoorpoorchildIcan’tbelieveyoutooksuchanastyfallandthereisn’tevenatearinyoureyeItellyouifthatwasmeI’dbebawlingbynowabsolutelybawlingmyeyesoutmyGodyouscrapedupyourkneeaswellwellI’lljusthavetofixyouupIjustcouldn’tlivewithmyselfifIdidn’tpatchyouupyoupoorpoorchild.”
Surprised by the change from a mourning, tearful woman to the fast paced woman that was so adamently trying to help her, the girl allowed herself to be led out of the cemetery and down the street a few blocks to a small apartment building while the woman talked all the way.
“Mydearchildyou’renothingbutskinandbonesyoureallymusteatsomethingonceIgetyouallfixedupandsuchaprettylittlethingohyoumustmeetmylittleonesIhavetwoboysyoulookaboutheiragetoowouldn’tyouknowitandthey’reterribly--” the woman paused only once they reached the door of her apartment. She knocked once, calling one of her sons to come open the door. As soon as she finished she picked up right where she left off. “--lonelyI’msureofcoursetheyhavetheirfriendsfromschoolbutIdon’tknowaboutthoseb oystheyseemtobebadinfluencesonmydearsonsyou’llseewhenyoumeetthemtheyreallyaredearboys.”
She finished her long string of sentences just as a young man opened the door. He blinked once at the sight of the girl accompanying his mother. “Oh Ma, not another one... What is she? The fifth this week? And it’s only Tuesday. Ma, how long are you going to keep this up?” He cast the girl in his mother’s arms an apologetic glance, and stood aside to allow the two entrance to the apartment.
“Oh tosh, Aiden. I’m going to keep it up as long as there are children that need to be taken care of. Now go find Mackenzie and bring him in here to help me.” She answered her son, her fast paced method of communicating slowing considerably.
Sighing Aiden exited the room in search of his brother while his mother seated the injured girl at the kitchen table. “Now, dear child, what’s your name?” she asked, pulling a chair closer to her patient and taking a seat herself.
“Gwen,” the girl answered, still somewhat shell-shocked at the speed in which she was whisked away from the cemetery.
“Oh my, what a pretty name. It suits you dear, you know that? Of course you do. Well Gwen, dear, my name is Mrs. Storrs, and don’t you worry we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
As she introduced herself Aiden rentered the room, Mackenzie tagging along behind. Aiden could help smiling a bit when Gwen offered him an apologetic look of her own.
“Oh good you boys are here. Aiden, Mackenzie this is Gwen. Gwen, Aiden and Mackenzie. They’re good boys--” Mrs. Storrs smiled affectionately at her two sons, “--even if they do think I’m slightly crazy.” She laughed standing and bustling her way over to the kitchen sink where she started to fill a bowl with warm water. “Aiden get my tweezers and start cleaning the gravel out of those scrapes. They’ll be hard enough to bandage up as it is. Mackenzie run and get some scraps out of the bin, the longest ones you can find.”
Aiden oblidged, leaving only for a moment to retrive the tweezers and then taking the seat his mother had previously occupied. Gently he took Gwen’s hand in his own, turning it palm up so that he had full access to her wounds. Deftly he began removing tiny bits of gravel that irritated the scrape further. Every so often he would look up and cast Gwen reassuring smiles and offer explinations.
“My kid sister passed away a few weeks back... Ma hasn’t been the same since. Every time she sees a kid who might need a bit of help she jumps on them and drags them back here to be ‘patched up’ as she puts it. I’m sure she’ll get over it soon enough, but in the meantime I suppose people will just have to get used to it. I know I will. But don’t worry. She’s not crazy.”
Gwen grinned and lifted her other arm when he motioned for it. “Don’t worry I didn’t think she was. It’s just you know, you don’t meet people like her every day. I hardly expected to be picked up and whisked away after a little fall. --I’m sorry about your sister.”
Aiden smiled warmly. “It certainly wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Returning the smile, Gwen sat quietly after that watching him as he meticulously removed every tiny piece of dirt and grime she had picked up in the open scrape.
Taking a deep breath Aiden scooted his chair a bit closer and lifted the blonde girl’s leg onto his own lap, rolling up her pant leg to better expose the wound. He found it impossible to view the entire thing as it reached all the way up her right thigh. Mrs. Storrs clucked her tongue and placed the bowl of warm water on the table. She stood behind her son and watched over his shoulder as he did all that he could to clean the scrape.
“Now aren’t you glad I brought this one home, Aiden? Just think of the trouble she would’ve had if someone didn’t take the time to clean her up properly.”
“Fair enough Ma, but who’s to say she couldn’t have done it herself?” he questioned, leaning over a bit so that he was better able to manuver the tweezers.
Gwen laughed a bit, slightly uncomfortable with the exposure of her leg. “Well, regardless of whether or not I could do it myself I appreciate it.”
Stay tuned! More to come!
