The Book of Winshire

Spring: Chapter Fifteen

Edith sighed. She had left the individuals in gloom at the cemetery. Formerly at home, Jeremy had suddenly rushed her in to her black dress when she was spiritually debating to herself on which season of blockbusters should she be watching that day.

She was confounded about what had happened until she found out from Ian, whom she had met him at the gate of where the occasion took place, if Zack’s supposed soon-to-be fiancée had died a few months ago.

He had mentioned: ‘Today’s an important day because her coffin is going to be taken out from its place, to be reburied at the Memorial Park.’

She moaned, now aware of why The House was closed when they went there to meet the blokes.

The play area’s gate was unlocked, indicating that someone was there first. She looked up from the small step and cute paths on the ground to the set of swings. A strangely dark colour on her right caught her eyes.

It was Zack. He was sadly lying on a yellowish/greenish bed of grasses, and his eyes were narrowed to the bright blue sky.

‘Hey, I thought you went home with your family?’ she approached. (She saw them being the firsts to leave before the ceremony was halfway through.)

Zack knitted his brows and peered for her feature through the outstanding daylight. When he recognised her, he half-smiled and hummed to her question.

‘But I think better not. My mum is quite mad at me.’

‘Why?’

They sighed.

He pushed his upper body up, elbowing the ground of grasses. He breathed in deeply and held it in for a whilst. ‘Well,’ he huffed, ‘she was thinking if I was doing—things—behind her back.’

‘Things?’ she frowned and bent her knees, squatting next to him. ‘What things?’

He shrugged and laid himself down again. He slipped his left arm behind his head for comfort. Edith copied and counted the clouds with him. She found one, which, looked like Henry’s fake love-tattoo on his arm. She sighed at it and let her eyes wander for the rest ones.

‘She also thought if I was ditching my family because of my commitment to Adelaide. But I’m glad she still came today.’

‘That’s not true. You had never taken me to see your birdie—or have you?’

He gave her a head shake of no. ‘I didn’t go home on important days for years now, too,’ he said, ‘but I did call occasionally.’

‘Listen, from what I’d read on Jeremy’s board of disorders: Committed persons always succumb to being obsess. They would be too fascinated with a respective subject to not introduce it to everyone they know,’ Edith corrected on what his mother had thought of him. ‘But I do think I am the one you’re committed to. Because—you know—me not having privacy at The House . . .’

He chuckled at this, his chest vibrating up and down. ‘Zack, if you really are tired of us, then come back home only when you’re not. I don’t want the rest of family to think what I think,’ he said in a silly yet stern tone.

‘She said that? Oh, my God.’

‘That doesn’t really bother me,’ he dismissed. ‘What really does, is, the fact that she waited so long to tell me that. When we had the right times, she didn’t make the attempt to admit it. It hurts a little bit more than Ade’s death, and the fact of me not being there when it happened.’

Edith moved her head a little to look at him. He was still staring at the sky, no reaction upon his face. She shifted her head back to its early position. ‘It’s sad to know that people hide so many things, yet they only tell through quarrels. It’s like those casual talks exist just to be wasted. Can’t believe we wait till our madness reigns over the situations and everything’s slipping off our hands until we tell what we’re dying to tell,’ she said.