A Garden of Rose and Bone

Chapter 10: The Shadow of Death

My phone slid down my chest and I went limp. Shock rippled through me. I struggled to inhale as static ate my vision. The present moment disintegrated as Father's shuddering voice begged me to answer. To say anything.

Lyn picked up my cell. He massaged the back of my head as I fought for consciousness.

"Pater—" Father wasn't willing to hear it.

"Bring her to me and then leave immediately. You are not welcome here, boy!"

Father hung up, not willing to spend a second longer on him. Lyn massaged my neck as he called Lili. I was only half aware of her getting into the backseat, reaching forward to squeeze my shoulder. I remembered taking my pills while I watched the halos of the streetlights pass. What was the point of them again?

And then we were walking toward my mother's room. I exited my thick haze, wishing to return to it. I approached the door. My stomach sank. Lyn and Lili followed. Father Xavier whispered prayers to my mother. Shallow, faint breaths escaped her. I glanced at the monitors. The endless expanse between her heartbeats was falling sand in a full hourglass.

I couldn't bear to visit her during the week or call Father Xavier. The situation with Lyn complicated things further. Father attempted to reach me through Lili, but I refused the calls and hid.

Father Xavier studied the three of us at the doorway. He clenched his jaw with a watery cerulean gaze. Lyn's features went cold. I shivered as the room took on a sudden chill. He brushed a kiss on my forehead. And to my surprise, it was frigid. My cheek burned. The fine hairs on my skin rose in response. Father's brow twitched. He regarded him with ground teeth as he clutched the rail of my mother's bed.

"I'll be right outside, in the hall," Lyn said. He receded out of the doorway, remaining just outside of the frame. The temperature returned to its previous state.

Father's attention moved to Lili. The fire vanished from his eyes, but a black hole of grief replaced it. "Lili, I do not trust him. Why has he received your blessing?" He tipped his head, signaling for her to leave us as well. She nodded and solemnly joined Lyn.

I glanced at them, thankful they were still present. Every cell in my body was alive and inert simultaneously. My legs wobbled as I took a seat beside Father. Standing seemed impossible to endure. I grasped Mom's icy hand and placed it against my inconsistent heartbeat. Could she feel herself fading? I trembled to the bone.

"Father, is she in pain?"

A breathless question. The pace of my pulse stole the air from me. My mother had brushes with death throughout her life. But it was time to collect. My lips trembled.

"No dear, she no longer suffers." Father put his hand on my back and the soft touch broke me.

I kissed Mom's bony knuckles, closing my eyes. It was so hard not to cry. I knew if I lost a single tear, the rest would flow. There wasn't much left of my resolve as the seconds passed. The tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall mocked me.

Memories flourished, both sweet and sorrowful.

I remembered the days after church when Mom and I sang while baking cookies. There always was a glowing cigarette between her fingers. The curve of her smile behind the smoke was vivid in my mind. Joyful. Radiant. like sunlight falling on a dark corner.

A melancholy flashback seeped in, replacing my mother's smile with her tears. She often cried in the bath. It was one of the few places she would. The image of the black mascara staining her face haunted me. She always tried to hide her suffering, saying 'this too shall pass' or talk about God's plan if I ever brought it up.