Sleep Keeper (15 page)

The morning of the funeral lasted forever. I spent the early morning hours staring into the darkness. I lay flat on my back with my exhausted body molded firmly into the tousled bed. The shallow movements of my chest were the only part of me that had moved in the past several hours… or maybe only minutes… I wasn’t sure. The concept of time had lost its meaning. My head flooded with flashing images and fragmented thoughts of my abandoned dreamland that I tried desperately to bury deep inside, to no avail.

Eventually the sun began to rise, yet again, and the darkness was replaced by the faint outline of the cedar knots in the ceiling that continued their disapproving glare. I turned my head toward the wall to avoid their stare and studied the grooves in the plaster. The sun made its way through my window to cast dancing lights across the wall each time the breeze caught the leaves of the courtyard tree. The sunlight was alluring; it reminded me of Orion’s warmth and beauty. A surge of pain crushed my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

Will this ever end?

Shuffling feet and soft whispers down the hall captured my attention. Moments later, my agony was interrupted by a light tapping at my door.

“Honey, are you awake?” Mom asked, as she slowly creaked open the door and peeked her head in.

“Yes,” I muttered in a hoarse voice.

She entered my room and sat on the edge of the bed. I forced my torso to sit upright, my head pounding with the change in altitude. I reached for the stale water on the nightstand and took several gulps. It didn’t quite quench the dry ache in my throat. I finished the rest of the glass and licked my lips; failing to give them some much needed moisture.

“Mitchell’s parents are here.”

I groaned and gazed at Mom with a grimace, silently pleading for her to make them go away.

“I know honey, but they need to see you,” she explained, rubbing my leg.

“No, Mom…” I whined as I hung my head and dropped my shoulders.

“I’m sorry Alexis, but you have to,” she replied.

I grumbled under my breath and crawled out of bed. Slipping on a robe, I shuffled down the hall and into the living room.

“Oh, Alexis dear!” Mitchell’s mother screeched and threw herself against me as I came up the steps.

“Maggie, thanks for coming,” I squeezed out through her grip.

She released her grip and backed away. I hadn’t seen her since last Christmas but she looked exactly the same. Brightly rouged cheeks still clashed against the same shade of store-died auburn hair that hung in unkempt waves and brushed against her shoulders. Between her portly frame and his father’s gangly physique, I was surprised Mitchell ended up with a decent balance of the two.

“Oh sweetie, how are you holding up? You look dreadful! You must be a wreck. I know I am… I can’t believe my baby is gone!” she sputtered out and dropped her hands to her face weeping profusely.

I stood frozen, staring at her in a daze.

Mom walked in and hurried over to console her. I looked over at Mitchell’s father, who was hunched over in the far end of the room. He looked just as tired and lost as I did. He caught my stare and gave me a consoling nod.

“Frank,” I nodded back.

Mom led Maggie to the couch and Frank sat in the loveseat nearby. Mom motioned me over with a raise of her brow, and I obeyed, sitting down on the other side of Maggie. She turned toward me, clutching a wad of used tissue.

“I just don’t understand. Why did this happen?” she cried.

Because I was being punished for sinning and betraying your son, and for that he suffered the ultimate consequence.

“I… don’t… know…” I muttered.

“This is a nightmare. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I just picture my baby’s perfect smile, gone forever!” she wailed.

“I know,” I mumbled, picking at my fingernails.

I was the reason she lost her son. I caused all her pain. I wondered if she could feel the guilt seeping from me.

“Oh, Alexis dear… Mitchell loved you so much, honey. I hope you know he’s looking down on you right now. He’s watching you. You’re not alone,” she reassured.

A bolt of panic rushed through my stomach as she spoke those words. I bet he was looking down on me, shaking his head in repugnance.

“I’m so sorry, Mitchell!” I blurted out and wept.

Maggie thrust her heavy body against mine again and my nose was flooded with her floral perfume. “Oh honey it’s going to be okay. Frank and I will stay here with you for as long as you need us.”

That comment was enough to break my sobbing and I shot a quick look of panic at Mom.

“Oh… well… Maggie, that is awfully generous of you, but I’m staying with Alexis for as long as she needs, so that won’t be necessary,” Mom explained.

“Oh… okay,” she stuttered in disappointment. “But the offer always stands, even after we go back to Seattle.”

I gave a quick nod then shot Mom a ‘thank you’ stare.

“Alexis, you should probably get in the shower. It will make you feel better,” Mom suggested, glancing at the clock.

Without hesitation, I move from the couch to the bathroom, taking advantage of my dismissal. My body continued on autopilot while my mind stayed a jumbled mess. I couldn’t recall undressing, but in the next moment the cool water was washing over my swollen eyes. I turned on the heat and put my face under the stream of water, drawing in deep breaths of air through my nose. The water hit the top of my head and split its path between my face and my back. If I shifted slightly, the water quickly changed its path. I straightened back up and the water returned to its original divergence, undecided on which path to take. In a way, this was how my heart felt. It swayed between love and agony. Hope and despair. Orion and Mitchell. Just like me, the water didn’t have a choice in which path to take. It was as if someone was pulling the strings on my heart, never letting it rest.

“Are you all right in there?” I heard through the door.

“Fine, Mom,” I answered apathetically.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it must have been time to get out. Mitchell deserved at least a little effort on my part today.

I turned off the water and stepped into the bathroom. Mechanically, I shuffled through my routine, brushing my teeth, drying my hair, and applying a dab of makeup. I walked into the closet to get dressed. I had no idea what I was going to wear. I peered around the closet and spotted a modest black dress hanging on the back of the door. Luckily Mom was one step ahead of me.

I threw it on, along with my black pumps. I left the room and found Mom and Maggie sitting on the couch, flipping through an old photo album they must have dragged out.

Great.

I look over at Frank who was watching a game on the television. When Mom noticed my presence, she glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet, grabbing her purse and keys. I guess I took longer than she wanted.

“Oh… we will just follow you guys then?” Maggie questioned.

“Yes, here are the directions in case we get separated,” Mom handed Frank a folded piece of paper.

The drive to the mortuary filled my stomach with trepidation. I prayed this day would end quickly. We drove in utter silence, except for the humming of the tires against the pavement.

“Jeremy sends his condolences and wishes he could be here for you,” Mom announced, without breaking her concentration on the road.

Like lightening, anger shot to the surface from the thought of her discussing any of this with that lunatic.

“When did you talk to
him
?” I snapped back.

She hesitated in her response, obviously registering my tone. I bet she regretted bringing up the topic now.

“Yesterday… You know he never meant to hurt you, Alexis. He is going through a tough time and would never really hurt you, honey,” she commented.

“Oh Mom, DON’T! DO NOT defend him, not right now!” I screamed, trying not to lose it completely.

I shoved my body toward the window and wrapped my arms around my waist. My hands trembled against me. I took several deep breaths to calm down.

Mom didn’t respond.

After ten minutes of silence, I sipped on the coffee and picked at the muffin she had brought for me. I knew, once again, I should apologize but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t believe she was defending him, again! She always made excuses for him and I couldn’t deal with that right then. I wanted to focus on making it through the day so I could go home, crawl into my hole, and be alone in desolation.

We didn’t speak the remainder of the drive.

The funeral service went by much faster than I had anticipated. Mitchell’s cremation meant I didn’t have to be tormented by an open casket, thank God. Mom’s old pastor gave a conventional speech followed by a few friends and family members who spoke their remembrances. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. My eyes were drenched the entire time.

When everyone was finished and the end of the service was finally near, someone rose from the back of the room and made their way up the aisle. It was a young girl, maybe fifteen, with long dark hair. She wore a lengthy woolen gown with intricate patterns of rich reds, greens and gold. She stared intently as she passed by, giving a quick nod of condolence. I scanned my memory but failed to recognize her, but that wasn’t uncommon with my memory. She climbed the steps to the stage and paused at the podium. The room was quiet as she opened up a slip of paper and read:

I stand atop a mountain; there is no life but me,

The solitude’s consoling as I grieve for what I can’t see.

The wind’s breath is upon my lips; I taste your scent again,

The rain falls in rhythm to my slaughtered heart; I feel you against my skin.

A hawk whispers your name above; I sense you from the earth,

The sun breaks through the darkness and welcomes your rebirth.

You are here… earth, wind, water, and sun… you are one.

She folded up the paper, walked back down the aisle, and then disappeared into the small crowd at the back of the room. Gentle sobs and whimpers from the audience emanated behind me. Her words touched me as well, but not with tears. They reminded me of the interconnection of life in everything around. I looked down at my hands. I felt energy flowing through me as I thought about the dream world I once called home. Tingling brushed across my fingertips. The pastor interrupted the silence with instructions for the reception next door. Mom gently nudged me as the line of grieving visitors formed in front of me. My mind and body went back to numb. I hugged what seemed like an endless line of mourners, until I finally reached the end of the line. My mystery guest was gone.

Although I couldn’t feel my legs, I shambled out the door and into the reception hall. The room was doused in fresh floral scent and soft music. It was packed inside with people, food and flowers. A slide show of pictures from Mitchell’s life projected on the wall at the end of the room. I cringed and turned away as images of us flashed across the screen. I chose a seat with my back to the projection.

Two hours later, Mom and I headed back home, exhausted. Mom was somehow able to persuade Maggie and Frank to let me grieve alone for the rest of the night. She seemed to understand what I needed lately. As soon as I came home, I peeled off my dress and threw on a tank top and cotton shorts. Crawling into my unmade bed, I once again stared at the wall and waited for the darkness to creep back in. Sleep would be a blessing, but instead I was cursed with a half-conscious state of torture.

Maybe Orion wasn’t ever real - just a figment created in my raving mind. Maybe it was all just a dream… or maybe this was just a dream that I can’t wake up from. Maybe I’m still asleep? Wake up! Wake up!

My head spun in dementia.

Please God just numb my heart to this torturous suffering.

He wasn’t listening.

A month rolled by. Time stood still in this forsaken world. I was stuck in the same nightmare day, my own hell that I could not escape. My life was completely empty and meaningless. The world I once loved and cherished had abandoned me, or maybe somewhere along the way I abandoned it.

I slept a little more now, but hadn’t seen Orion since our forbidden night together. I hadn’t decided if he was real or if I was insane. Either way, it didn’t matter. I missed him tremendously, as well as the forest; but each time his beautiful face drifted in my mind, I blocked it out immediately. It was better this way.

Mom was still staying with me, making sure I didn’t do something she would regret. She forced me to eat and dress each day, but I rarely left the house. I stopped going to school and work. Mom called the University and explained by “loss”. The school librarian was very supportive of me taking as much time off as I need. As for Admissions, they didn’t care. I could drop out and try again next semester or flunk out.

Mitchell’s parents hadn’t said anything about me moving out of the condo. I debated moving back in with Mom, but I didn’t have the energy to make a decision. Mitchell’s parents only stayed around for another few days after the funeral. Maggie called a number of times since then, but the conversations were brief and painful. Was this what Mom felt when I called her?