Shoelaces

Greenhouses

You know, I thought that the lowest point in my entire existence would be, you know, dying. But no, of course not. You expect Darrion to ever climb back from his lows? No, no, he digs further down. By that, I mean that I fucking ran into an old lady in the afterlife. And I knocked the both of us onto the fucking ground. A+ work, Darrion.

"I'm- I'm so, so, so sorry, ma'am," I stutter out as I stand up from the ground, walking over to the innocent old lady. I extend both my arms to help her up, but she shakes her head, standing up by herself. What a badass.

"It is quite alright, dear," she says, straightening out the floral sweater she is wearing. "I should have been looking around more. Should have kept my eyes peeled for incoming crying young men." She laughs softly, filling the air with calmness and evicting any tension.

"I'm truly very sorry, ma'am."

"Oh, don't be," she looks into my eyes for the first time, and then gasps softly. Why is she gasping? Why the fuck is she gasping? "Darrion?"

"Huh?"

"Are my fixed eyes deceiving me, or is that really you?"

"I'm- I'm, uh, sorry. I don't think I know who you are, ma'am."

"I wouldn't know me either after so many years," she smiles, then places both of her hands on my shoulders. "I'm Rebecca," she pauses. "You most likely last saw me at Roger's, when you were just a kid. Look at how much you've grown," she says in the classic grandmother voice.

"But- but you're-"

"You can say 'old,' dear. It's a badge I wear with pride."

"No- but, uh, on Earth you were like eight years older than me. Which means you should be twenty-six. But uh- Not that you look a day over twenty-six, but-"

She looks at me like an old photograph and smiles. Her smile looks familiar. It reminds me of- "I was on my way to get tea, Darrion. Care to join me?" She pauses, removing her hands from my shoulders. She crooks one of her elbows, the one closer to me, and lets her other arm fall to her side. "I can explain why I'm so old," she chuckles softly. "And, with my wise old age, I can help you with whatever you are crying about." She gestures with her elbow, signally for me to wrap my arm inside of her elbow crook and walk along with her.

I reach out to put my arm in the hole she made, but then I hesitate.

First of all, this old lady has to be lying, right? I mean, she's acting all sweet and stuff, but she can't actually be the Rebecca from Roger's, right? Unless it's one of the side effects of shoelace ball time. Regardless, second of all, my face is still stained with tears and I was deliberately running away to go to my room to wallow by myself in my bed before I ran into her. I'm already lonely in the afterlife, but I wanted to be alone. There's a difference. But, I guess, I ran into her and knocked us both the ground. Going to get tea with her is the least I could do.

And maybe a warm sip of tea would be nice.

I place my arm through the spot she created with her elbow, and she moves both of her hands to wrap around my elbow. If this truly is Rebecca, the last time I saw her, she was much taller than me. But time must have worked its magic, because I grew, and I think she's gotten smaller. Little old lady Rebecca. She wears her grey hair in a tight bun, the most pronounced thing on her face crow's feet around her eyes that are spotlighted whenever she smiles. We walk, connected, around the perimeter of floor we are on. She hums a song I don't recognize.

We make it into the tea shop. I hold the door open for her as she walks inside. When I walk into it, I realize that it's actually a green house. There are viny plants everywhere, with glass walls that reveal (probably fake) rolling green hills. Like the ones in Sound of Music. Roses and lavender and cherry blossoms are scattered throughout the greenhouse. Tables are places throughout the little shop, each table being a planter box with extended tops which provide a place to put your drink. It's cool; I think each planter box is actually growing tea. I would have loved to go on a date here. He would have loved it too. Loved it because I loved it.