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

30.

I woke up a few hours later in complete darkness. After turning on the hall and living room lights, I wandered into my parents' pitch-black room. I couldn't even remember the last time that I'd been in there. To my surprise, my father had never cleared out any of my mother's things. Everything was still exactly where she had always kept it. I turned on the lamp and began searching through her dresser, not exactly sure what I was looking for. As I searched, her voice kept coming in and out of my head.

A powder blue teddy bear that I'd made for her in sixth grade home economics class was lying on the floor against the wall. It had probably fallen off the dresser long ago. I carefully picked it up and buried my face in it. Then I started crying again. When, finally, my last tear was shed, I put the teddy bear back where it belonged and knelt down next to the bed.    

"Mommy," I said out loud. "Li'l Jay is dead. Faith is dead. Ace is dead. Did you know that? Please take care of my friends." Then as an afterthought I added, "Please take care of me, too."

As I sit now, looking at this picture that Shadow gave me so many years ago, I can clearly see that if the beginning of this story had started at the end, I'd be standing there all alone.

Shoot, the picture would have never even been taken in the first place.

You see, my father never did come back from the Bermuda Triangle. I'm not even sure that he ever went. I heard from him once, though, after Li'l Jay's funeral. I told him what happened, and he told me that we'd have to talk about it when he got back. The connection was really bad. It sounded like he was calling me from a busy intersection...or maybe even an airplane. After that phone call, though, I never heard from him again.

Incidentally, that "thing" that he was talking about in my birthday card never did get fixed.

                I still feel broken.