Turn of the Tide | ONC 2023

[16] Peace

    "Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Cutie. We're here."

    Her head cradled in the nook between the car door and her seat, Sally peeled her eyes open to see the loose patchwork of cloud spread across the sky. The clouds themselves were little more than thin twists of wispy fibres, posing no obstacle as the sun's rays sailed down and sparkled through the trees beside the car. Sally slid herself up her seat and stretched out her arms. "How long was I asleep for?" she yawned, blinking the doziness from her eyes.

    Flick spun her car keys around her finger and shrugged. "Long enough," she said, failing to conceal her smirk.

    "What? What do you mean?" Sally looked over at Flick, her eyebrow raised. A rosy blush shone on her girl's cheeks, as well as her neck, arms, and vest top. Holding back a sigh, Sally lifted a hand to her eyes and removed the sunglasses perched on her face. "That's still not funny!" she cried as she tossed them back at Flick, biting her lip to hold back her laughter.

    "It so is! And you're the one that keeps falling asleep," Flick said, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes. Though the car's engine lay at rest and her seatbelt was undone, she lingered in her seat, her eyes staring through the gap in the steering wheel. Her neck craned towards Sally until the dark gaze of the sunglasses fell over her. "You ready to do this?"

    Sally freed herself of her seatbelt. "I think so. Are you ready? We can sit here a while longer if you like."

    Shoving the car keys into her pocket, Flick stared out of the windshield at the large, lurching willow tree ahead of them, its hair-like limbs dancing in the wind. "Ready as I'll ever be," she muttered as she clicked open the car door.

    The cemetery sat behind a wall of well-trimmed hedges and thick-trunked trees, a shower of furled fallen leaves around the stone pillars of the gateway. At the roadside, the sounds of distant vehicles bestowed a sense of normality, yet as Sally passed through the cast iron gate, the traffic fell away. Only the tap of her boots against the hard floor followed her into the courtyard, where the rustle of more brown, papery leaves reminded her where she was. This was a place of death.

    Glancing at her phone screen, Flick sighed and slid the handset away. "Damien said the plot was over this way," she muttered while pointing towards a path along the inner side of the hedge wall. "Better not keep her waiting any longer, right?"

    Sally hid her hands inside her pockets. "Right." 

    They followed the stone brick steps around the perimeter of the cemetery, passing row after row of solemn headstones. For every flower-strewn display adorned with handwritten messages, photos, and trinkets, there was a grave shivering alone in the breeze surrounded only by untouched grass. At the heart of the space, the red-brick cemetery building dazzled whenever the sunlight hit its sides, its glow and sharp central spire making it visible from all corners of the grounds. No other people moved through the cemetery.

    Suddenly, Flick's steps ground to a halt, and Sally placed a hand on her friend's back to stop herself. Flick removed her sunglasses from her face and tucked them into her shirt, revealing her red-tinged eyes that fixated on something nearby. "There's my Miri."

    At the centre of a long row of plots, nestled in the shade of a downcast willow, a clean pale-grey headstone rose from a clutch of bundled bouquets. Sally let Flick lead the way, taking care to avoid the assorted plants and pots positioned by the sides of other graves. The breeze died down when they reached the plot, and Sally held her breath to brace for the blow that awaited her as her eyes found the name they sought. Miranda Aoife Farrell.

    Flick scratched her neck, her other hand awkwardly half-stuck in her pocket. "Hey, shutterbug," she said with a hollow smile. Noticing Sally arrive at the side of the plot, Flick nodded in her direction. "This is Sal. Don't worry, she's pretty cool, if a teensy bit stubborn now and then. See that hella wild cut on her forehead?"