Keeping Up With the Wind: A 'Burban Tale by Suleyma Moon

27.

           I couldn't find Li'l Jay, so I went back up to Faith's room. Everything after that was a blur. I was still there when Faith's parents came in. Her father walked in without a word. He went over to Faith, kissed her forehead, then walked over to the window and silently watched the rain outside. It made me sad to see how much like Faith he was, and reminded me that I would have to miss my friend every day for the rest of my life.

            "Pretty day," he said quietly, to no one in particular.

            Their mother, who was much more like Blaze, came over to me and commented on how happy Faith must have been that I had finally come to see her. She went on about how lonely it had been for Faith in the hospital, and how lucky she was to have friends like us to keep her company when she and her husband weren't able to be there. Because their mother was almost exactly like Blaze, I couldn't tell if she really meant what she said or if she was trying to lay the guilt trip on me for not coming sooner. Either one was possible. After she was finished talking, she went over to sit by her daughter's side and make arrangements. I told her that Li'l Jay had been there, but left.

The twins' father took me home shortly after that. Before we walked out, their mother pulled out a necklace of Faith's that I had never seen before. It was a long silver chain with a jade cross. The color reminded me of Faith's eyes.

            Handing it to me, she said, "I know you Silvy, and despite all that's happened, I don't want you to ever lose faith." Then she gave me a hug.

            I'm still not sure if she meant Faith her daughter, or the spiritual kind of faith. I just thanked her for the necklace and asked her to help me put it on.

I've worn it every day since.

            The next thing that I remember is their dad ushering me into a car and talking about some old Alfred Hitchcock show that he had seen the night before. He started chuckling and reminded me of "the incident," which is what our mannequin encounter had been dubbed by Faith's parents and mine.

            I always liked their dad. He had always treated me more like his kid than my own father did. It reminded me of old times to be riding in the car with him and talking about Alfred Hitchcock. He and I used to exchange Twilight Zone stories when I was younger and try to convince each other that either we made them up on our own or that the stories had actually happened. I never believed him, but he always had me thinking that he believed me every time. Still, it was strange to me that he kept talking about these things now and not about Faith. Maybe he was trying not to upset me anymore than I already was, or maybe he was just trying not to upset himself. Either way, I just went along with it.

            I remember that when we pulled into my driveway, he asked me to call Blaze for them. I couldn't believe that he was asking me to do it, and wondered why they didn't think that Blaze would rather hear this kind of news from his own parents. I didn't argue with the man, though. He had just lost his only daughter, one that I had only gone to visit in her deathbed on the day that she died. So, instead of questioning him, I just took the number that he handed me and thanked him for the ride.

I don't remember how long it had taken for us to get from the hospital to my house, but I do remember that the walk from their car to my room seemed to last an eternity. Out of habit, I climbed through my window, even though I knew that no one else would be home.

Immediately after I got in, I called Blaze. At first, the operator wouldn't let me talk to him because he was "indisposed" and still in training. I told her what had just happened, and she finally put me through.