Come to Me Quietly

Aly stared at the back of his blond head of hair. It appeared stark white under the glaring winter sky, strands of it thrashing in the sharp gusts of wind that cut across the joyless ground, the relentless stirring at complete odds with the boy who sat comatose.

Lifeless.

Aly’s heart hurt. It’d been hurting for days, but seeing him like this was killing her. Only once had her mom allowed her to go with her to the hospital to visit him. The entire time Jared had pretended to be asleep, as if he didn’t know they were there. But Aly knew… She’d seen the flicker of his lids and the awareness in the twitch of his fingers.

What she’d expected today, she didn’t know. Crying, she guessed. That she would witness him mourn the way he should because Aly couldn’t imagine anything more horrible than losing your mother. She wanted to reach out, to touch him and tell him it was okay and that no one would blame him for grieving.

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he just sat there, staring directly ahead as if he had some sort of detached fascination with the large spray of red roses blanketing the top of the white casket. Around it, pictures were arranged on easels: a picture of Helene as a little girl, one in her cap and gown, dancing with Neil on her wedding day, her face filled with absolute joy as she held her newborn baby boy, the last a recent family picture of the four of them. But Jared’s attention never strayed.

Maybe it was wrong that Aly noticed, that she was so aware of every move he made.

Helene’s sister, Cindy, rose and slowly approached the podium that had been set up to the left of the casket. Cindy sniffled and dabbed under her eyes with a tissue. “If you’re here today it’s because you had the great honor of knowing my little sister, Helene. I’m sure you’d all agree with me that she was the one of the kindest, most genuine people you’d ever meet.” A low murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. “She couldn’t walk in a room without making everyone else smile just because her joy was so infectious.”

She wet her lips, then continued. “My sister was the definition of warmth. Beautiful. Unforgettable. She cared so deeply for everyone. But her family was the most important thing in her world.” Cindy looked directly upon the front row. “Neil, Jared, Courtney… she loved you all so very much. I don’t want you to ever forget that. I’m going to keep those memories of her close to my heart, and I hope you’re able to do the same.” She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes pressed tight. She could barely continue to speak. “Thank you, everyone, for being here, for celebrating my sister’s life. No doubt she is watching over us now, thankful each of you is here.”

She stepped down and the minister took her place. He led them in a prayer. A somber and final “Amen” rolled over the gathering.

The casket was slowly lowered into the ground.

Aly’s mom whimpered.

This time Aly was the first to squeeze her mother’s hand. Her mom was hurting, and she wanted her to know that she understood. Helene had been her best friend, as close to her as a sister. Aly would never forget the way Helene’s warm laughter had constantly filled their house, the lilt of her quiet but strong voice, the way her kind eyes had watched and loved and encouraged.

Aly was going to miss her, too.

Once the coffin was fully lowered, the minister made an a

Jared’s grandfather helped Neil to stand, stayed at his side as he lumbered over the hard ground. He took a single, long-stemmed rose from a basket and dropped it into his wife’s grave. For a few minutes, he just stood there, staring, lost in the bleakness of finality, of what could never be taken back, never recovered, never regained.

She tried to hold it in, but a soft sob escaped from Aly’s throat. She caught a glimpse of Neil’s face when he turned around. The man had forever worn an affable smile, and now Aly wondered if he’d ever smile again.

The rest of the front row stood to pay their respects, all except for Jared, who didn’t so much as flinch. People cried as they approached the grave. Each one dropped a rose to the top of Helene’s casket and said a last good-bye.

Aly followed her mother and father out, took her own rose, and tossed the flower into Helene’s open grave. With her eyes shut tight, she murmured toward the ground, though she was speaking toward the heavens. “I’ll miss you so much, Helene.” Wiping her eyes, she stood aside and watched as the sea of black made its way by the grave that would permanently mark Helene’s death.

The entire crowd made their pass, before they scattered out to gather in groups where people wept and hugged and comforted each other.

Aly couldn’t help noticing those who whispered, ones who cast sidelong glances speculating about the boy who sat utterly alone, staring blankly ahead at the spot where his mother’s casket had rested before she’d been lowered into the ground. Anger twisted through Aly’s gut, and she wanted to lash out at them, to tell them to stop judging because they didn’t come close to understanding who Jared was. None of them knew the kindness of the boy who had always thought of everyone, the one who loved his mother and who was so obviously destroyed.

Breaking from the circle of her family, Aly made her way back to the basket of single, long-stemmed roses, taking one in her hand. The few that remained had been at the bottom of the pile, the wilted, red petals crushed. Cautiously, she made her way over to Jared, searching for some sort of recognition in his eyes. Still there was nothing. Aly gently laid the rose on his lap and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jared.”

His hair fluttered in the breeze, and Jared just stared.

Two months had passed since the accident. Everything had changed.

Aly was in her room with her door shut, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her sketch pad on her lap. The small lamp on her nightstand softly glowed against the walls of her room. Furiously her pencil brushed across the thick, textured paper. Shadows sprang to life, her worry inscribed on the page.

So many nights she spent awake worrying for Jared, completely powerless, while she watched him fade away. How badly she wished for some way to help him, to make him see that he was only hurting himself more, and that Helene would never want this for him.

Rumors had begun to surface, trickling all the way from the high school to the middle school. They terrified Aly more than anything because she saw their truth. She saw it in his eyes every time the two of them passed, even when he didn’t seem to even know she was there. It was like he saw right through her, like he was absent. Gone.

Helene was gone and now Jared was, too.

Aly stilled her pencil when she heard the soft knock at her door. “Come in.”

Her mother popped her head in. “Are you still up? It’s past eleven, and you have school in the morning.”

Aly glanced at her pad. “Sorry, Mom… I just… ”

Softly, her mother smiled. “I know, sweetheart.” Karen came the rest of the way in. Sitting at the edge of her bed, she ran a gentle hand through Aly’s hair. “Are you doing okay?”

“I think so.” Gazing up at her mom, she asked, “Are you?”

Aly’s mother pursed her lips, then offered a small, reassuring nod. “Some days. It’s getting better.” Then she placed a kiss on Aly’s forehead. “Get some rest. It’s late.”

“Okay.”

Karen crossed to the door and looked back at her daughter. “I love you, Aly.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

The next day, Aly rushed out into the bright morning sun with her backpack slung over her shoulder. If she missed her bus, she’d have to walk to school, and that was about the last thing she felt like doing since she’d spent half the night awake. Even when her mom told her to get some rest, none would come. She felt agitated, like she could feel something building – something bad. It wasn’t a premonition. It was just plain obvious.