Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

           

-Jack's POV-

            "Hi, Rosie." A tulip dangled in my hands and I rested it on the patch of grass in front of her grave. The bright pink added a touch of color to the otherwise barren landscape. I settled down on the ground, trying not to think about the stereotype that graveyards were haunted.

            "I'm sorry that I took so long to visit." My tongue felt like lead as I pushed the words out. I struggled in the silence, but there was nobody there to push me along. The dead didn't criticize; they didn't mind. "Things have been tough without you," I admitted. "I never stopped to think that this would be a possibility. You were so young. I never expected your life to be taken from you." I turned my head towards the sky to keep from crying, to push the tears back to where they came from.

            "You should've been able to go to the cookouts that your father hosted every summer. Played hopscotch with your siblings on the driveway. Begged for the puppy that your brother's been trying for for so long." I wiped a runaway tear from the side of my eye. "Or maybe you would've been a cat person. I don't know. You could've been anything, Rosie. Anything you wanted." And now there's no holding back the floor, and it's as if the sky is sad about it too, because the heavy gray clouds began to release their load in small and steady droplets. I could take it as a sign to head back home, but I'm not ready to leave yet. The sky and I commiserate in my misery.

            "I just don't understand!" I yelled, bringing myself to my feet. "If there is a God, why would he take you? And I don't want to hear the bullshit about the prettiest flowers again. You hardly had a chance to grow! There are so many awful people in this world. Why you? Why?" The sky didn't answer other than to rain harder. My cheeks were soaked with the sky's tears and my own. I stood there until I was drenched, until the anger softened back into sadness. I crouched down, whispering now.

            "I'm sorry for yelling. I just want you back, you know? You were always so happy. You were the good in the world. I would've preferred that they take me instead." I pressed my ear to the ground, hoping for something, anything, but, once again, there was nothing.

            "Give me a sign that things will be okay. Tell me where to go from here," I begged. "Give me a sign. Give me a sign." I repeated it until my lips were numb and I had no choice but to head back home. I dragged my tired body off of the ground and attempted to prop the tulip up against her grave.

            It was weighed down with water, but I managed to stick it into a small hole in the ground, the dirt easily manipulated because it'd been softened by the rainfall. The flimsy flower quivered, and I turned around. I didn't want to be there to watch it fall.

            I felt outside of myself as I walked down the pathway, almost as if I was watching somebody else make the trek. I had been determined to have this visit be one of the first things that I did when I returned to Ireland, but I couldn't tell if I had gained anything from it. Had Rosie? If there really was a heaven and she was in it, could she hear me? Could she understand? Probably not.

            I paused at the entrance, looking at the rose bushes. The summer was slowly fading out and the colorful plants had been disappearing for a while now, but there was one rose left. It stood tall and proud, even in the rainstorm, and its petals were a vibrant red. I rested a finger on it, feeling how soft and delicate it was.

            It was just then that a ray of sunlight burst through the clouds, illuminating the sole survivor. I squinted up at the sky – The rain had let up a little bit without me even realizing. Between the patches of blue arched a double rainbow. I felt myself grin – If there was a sign, this was it.

            "Thank you, Rosie," I said, letting my gratitude show. The band of colors stayed with me the entire time I walked home, and it was as if I could feel her presence with me. It was as if she was telling me, don't waste your life moping about what I could've done with mine. Go ahead and live, for both you and me. Or maybe she wasn't saying anything at all. Maybe all of the elements of my so-called "sign" were a mere coincidence.

            Either way, it left me inspired to make a change. There was nothing I could do to change the paste, but at least I had the future waiting, right in front of me.