Once (Gypsy Fairy Tale) (2 page)

I only have to make it through the next few minutes... If I can do that then I’ll go home and cry in peace... Then maybe tomorrow I’ll just cry in the morning...

That was how I saw my life stretching out over the next few days, crying alone now and then until I figured out how was supposed to survive in a world without my grandmother.

The minister went on and on talking about heaven and hell, and how her soul was finally at rest, but I didn’t want her to be at rest, I wanted her to be here with me. I had prayed that God would take her quickly and not let her suffer, but now I was selfish enough to want her back.

I didn’t mean it... I didn’t mean it...

I could feel everyone’s sympathetic eyes on me and I hated all of their pity. I couldn’t stand the way they all watched me as if waiting for me to cry or scream or something. I wish they would just go away and let me mourn in private.

There was a movement of black across the way that drew my attention. I looked up to see a few carnival members from the parade walking up with their heads bowed.

What are they doing here?

They lined up just beyond the crowd. I recognized the tall lean man that led the parade, the redheaded fire eater, the black haired slender girl, and the dark haired man that led the horses. Their clothes wrinkled and the girls covered their heads and dark scarves and some sort, other than that, they looked like anyone else gathered there.

Just as I was about to look away, someone near me gasped.

I looked over and the elderly Mr. O’Connor was staring at the visitors from the circus. His weathered face was pale, but he said nothing as he glared at them with his watery eyes.

Each member of the carnival looked up, almost in unison, all of them with the same expression on their faces, an odd mix of sadness and secrecy. None of them moved and none of them looked away.

It was strange the way they were all looking at that old man and even more peculiar was the way that he glowered back at them. Even though the minister was still talking, more and more people were taking notice of this strange staring contest.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any stranger, the tall one that led the parade leaned over and whispered something to the man that had led the horses.

Then, as if they all heard and understood, the entire group turned and walked out of the cemetery as the minister began the last part of his sermon.

“Ashes to ashes... Dust to dust...”

I watched them leave and stared at the spot where they had stood, anything to keep from watching as my grandmother’s coffin was lowered into the
ground.

Chapter 2

I stood outside my grandmother’s feed store, fumbling with the heavy key in the old door lock. My fingers were too numb and thick to work correctly.

I was tired way down into my bones and my mind was foggy with exhaustion; sleep was a luxury that evaded me. All night I lay in bed worrying about the house and the store and how I was ever going to manage all of this on my own. If I was lucky enough to fall asleep, it was only a matter of minutes before I would wake up thinking that I heard Grandma calling for her medicine.

How long would it last, I wondered as the key turned and the door opened.

Knowing my luck it will never stop...

The store was dark and quiet, like it developed an echo overnight. Every part of my being hated being there and I wanted nothing more than to turn around and lock the doors forever, but this feed store was all that I knew.

I forced myself to step inside and go about the usual routine even though I was just going through the motions. None of it felt right.

I emptied the used grounds from the coffee pot into the trash and put a fresh pot on to brew. Methodically, I set out the canisters of sugar and creamer. I set a stack of foam cups upside down next to the pot. I could almost hear my Grandma coaxing me along.

“Get a move on little one, set them cups out and then sweep the floor,” she used to command as if I hadn’t done the same thing, six days a week, for as long as I could remember. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of my hand written sign.

CLOSED DUE TO DEATH.

I walked over to the door and tore that sign down, peeling away the tape that remained. I knew it was silly, but I hated that sign and what it meant. I wadded it up and tossed it into the nearly empty trashcan, tying up the bag for good measure.

Our one and only employee, Alec O’Connor, shuffled in as I began sweeping the floor. I didn’t have to turn around; I recognized his limping gait immediately.

“Good morning,” he whispered awkwardly as he went over to the other broom in the corner.

“Good morning,” I said without looking up from the broom or the floor.

“It was a nice service yesterday,” he said as he began to sweep along beside me. “Your grandmother would’ve liked it.”

I didn’t say anything. I tried to just focus on the dusty old floor with its knotholes in the planks and the musty grassy smell of the store in general. Anything, so that I didn’t have to think about what he was saying.

Alec limped closer, “I just wanted you to know that everyone, including my own family, thought a lot of your grandma and I didn’t get to tell you at the funeral, but I just wanted to say how very sorry I am.”

I nodded, not sure what he expected me to say and hating his sympathy. The more he talked the more real it all seemed to become.

“I know what it’s like when someone you depend on dies,” he said with that same annoying expression of compassion. “So, if you ever need to talk to anyone, I’m here.”

I was ashamed of myself then, so much so that I had to look away. So much it happened in my own life that I didn’t even stop to think about the people around me.

Alec O’Connor had been the most popular boy in our graduating class and well on his way with a scholarship to IU. With his light brown hair and bright blue eyes, more than one girl lost her heart to him whether he knew it or not. Everyone expected him to go far until the car accident that summer killed his father and Alec’s dreams of college.

Suddenly he wasn’t Mr. Touchdown anymore and everyone outside of Corydon forgot he existed all together. He suffered through surgery after surgery in hopes that his mangled leg would improve, but it never did.

I looked up at this hometown hero with his bum leg, who was reduced to working in the feed store, and realized that I wasn’t the only one beaten up by life.

“Thank you,” I said. “But I’m fine. Why don’t you go out to the barn and bring in some more rabbit feed?”

“Sure,” he said with another understanding smile that annoyed me to no end. He set the broom back in the corner and hobbled out through the backroom.

I clutched my own broom and squeezed my eyes shut, commanding myself not to cry.

Don’t cry... Not here... Not now... You can cry tonight when you’re alone...

I didn’t really have time to cry. The bell over the door rattled as the first customer of the day entered. I took a deep breath and forced some version of a smile on my face.

“Good morning,” I said as I turned to greet my patron.

I could’ve saved my energy and my enthusiasm since it was just Mrs. Allen, the middle-aged lady that owned the scrapbook store next door. She walked directly over to the fresh coffee.

“It’s good to see you back my dear,” she said as if I’d been on a vacation instead arranging a funeral.

For some reason, I found her attitude even more annoying than the sympathy of everyone else. If it wasn’t for Alec coming out of the back and drawing her attention, I might’ve physically thrown her out. Since Grandma was dead and gone, I didn’t see the point in pretending to like her more.

Alec, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the way she fawned over him while he went over the different bird seeds for her backyard feeders.

Seriously? Well, better him than me.

One by one more customers came in with their orders for livestock feed. A few mentioned the service or gave me their awkward condolences, but they mostly talked about the circus.

“Did you see the likes of that parade?” One farmer asked another while they waited for their orders to be filled; obviously not in too much of a hurry by the way he leaned against the counter.

The other laughed a good ol’ boy type of chuckle, “I did. What did you think about that little firecracker?”

“As an old man, I wouldn’t even know what to do with that.”

I pretended not to hear them. If I was lucky, they would forget that I was right there. If not, it would just be embarrassing for all of us.

Thankfully, they didn’t notice me and the men went on with their conversation.

“They may all be useless tinkers,” one of them surmised. “But they sure have some beautiful women.”

Alec stepped up to the counter with Mrs. Allen’s seed under one arm; she followed behind him like a middle-aged love-struck puppy.

“Tinkers?” He asked as he began writing out her receipt.

The farmer nodded, “You know gypsies and travellers.”

“Well I know one thing,” Mrs. Allen said as she handed me her money. “You best lock things up tight as a drum.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Well because everyone knows that they steal everything that isn’t chained down,” she said in a huff of arrogant righteousness. “You just mark my words and do as I say.”

Alec gave me a conspiratorial wink before he gave her one of his all American smiles, “Now you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I most certainly do,” she said as she followed him out the door. “You know they’re all thieves and beggars.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, the other customers began laughing and the entire mood of the shop shifted. Obviously I was not the only one that pretended to like Mrs. Allen.

By afternoon, fewer and fewer people were offering condolences and it was easier to slip into my old routine. The conversation instead turned again to the carnival setting up camp across the street at the fairgrounds.

It would seem that one of them, I picture the man that led the parade, was spotted downtown at the courthouse trying to get a permit of some sort.

When the door opened again and another customer walked in, the feed store fell silent. I stood on my tiptoes to see who was causing such a reaction.

In walked a group of skimpily clad girls speaking words I didn’t understand. I came around from behind the counter, feeling like I had to get to them first for some reason.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

A thin, black haired girl with brilliant green eyes stepped forward. She looked around the room slowly before settling those eyes on me.

“Sorry to be bothering you Miss,” she said with the beautiful lilt in her voice. “May I please place one of these in your window?”

I looked down at the sheet of paper that she handed me. It was a vaudeville type poster advertising their “Carnival of Wonders” that would be performing in just over a week.

“Are you sure about the dates?” I asked, not wanting to admit that all of us knew that they had just applied for their permits.

The other girls in the group snickered and talked again with words I didn’t understand, but the black haired girl just looked at me and smiled as if she didn’t hear them.

“I am very sure of the date,” she explained in that beautiful accent. “I am never wrong about these things.”

I didn’t ask any more questions. I was too self-conscious with the flashy girls and my regular customers all watching me.

“Sure, that would be fine,” I said.

She took the poster back from me and gave me one more infectious smile before turning so that she could tape the poster to my door.

Everyone in the store turned to watch her and the other girls. I was embarrassed for them in the way that the men stared at their tanned legs and bare midriffs. Those girls could’ve been twelve or twenty, but it just didn’t seem right to stare at them like that.

I was thankful when the black haired girl was finished with the poster.

“Thank you,” she said as she spun around. “I hope all of you will come to the show.”

She met my eyes one last time before she opened the door and led her group back outside.

The feed store burst back in the conversation as soon as the door closed behind them. I stepped over to the door and watched them move down the sidewalk in a loud, colorful, boisterous group, and I envied their freedom.

* * * *

The afternoon had taken on that hazy almost evening glow when I stepped out of the store under the weight of a fifty pound bag of chicken feed. I really hated my life at that moment and regretted sending Alec home at four. I should’ve known old Mrs. Kennedy would be calling with her usual order and requested delivery.

If she wasn’t one of my grandmother’s oldest friends, and half senile on top of that, I would’ve told her to come get it herself, instead, there I was, dirty and exhausted, driving to the other end of the county to deliver chicken feed.