There were some things that just couldn't be explained.
Having mom drop dead for no reason was one of them.
I remember it as clearly as I remember my birth. My brain blocked it out; everything. From the death, to the funeral, to the pain and sadness that followed after the initial shock. I'm glad though. I'm glad I don't remember anything. It's better this way.
But I never did get my classic question of "why" answered.
***
It was a Monday. Work had been as slow as molasses. I was achy from sitting at a desk all day, listening to the monotone ring of a phone on occasion, while the annoying and unnaturally cheerful receptionist answered every five minutes loud enough the whole office could hear. I needed to finish off my Monday somehow on a brighter note, and a bookstore would do just the trick.
The pleasant bell rang as I opened the slightly sticky door. An old man working the counter tipped his hat to me. I smiled slightly, pursing my lips more than anything. I began to scan the shelves, seeing if anything was new. The store was so old and rarely visited, even the newer books were beginning to collect dust. I inhaled deeply as the smell of raw imagination and paper filled my nostrils.
Suddenly, as the sun began to vanish and the darkness filled the quiet streets outside, the door bell rang. Both I and the cashier looked with interest to a rare and other costumer.
In walked a tall man, his face covered in the shadows of the new night. He wore a long and black raincoat; odd for the occasion as it hadn't rained for weeks now.
The cashier tipped his hat uncertainly, but the raincoat man ignored him and walked boldly towards me.
"Are you Lily?" he asked in urgency.
"Um...yes?"
"Your mom died? About a year ago, am I correct?"
My insides began to feel icy.
"Erm...yes, she did. I'm sorry, but do I know you?"
"No." he said simply. He eyed my outfit and took a deep breath. "You need to come with me. Now."
"Excuse me? I deserve at least an explanation! Whose authority do you have?"
"Only my own," He slipped his hand into his raincoat; I jumped back, thinking he was about to bring a gun out, instead, he brought out an old tattered picture. In the photo was my dear mother, at least twenty years prior, youthful looking and beautiful. Next to her was the man holding the picture.
"Please," his eyes begged. "I need you at my house. The address is on the back of the picture. Come as soon as you can."
He handed me the photo with the address on the back, and left the store without another word.
I looked at the cashier. He looked slightly perturbed, but said nothing.
I couldn't focus on scanning the books, they all seemed suddenly dull to me now. I walked out of the store, clutching the photograph and looked around in the lamplight. The raincoat man was nowhere to be seen.
I pulled out my phone and tapped in the address. It glowed on my screen. It was at least an hour away, somewhere deep in a forest looking area that had only one road that winded through the blank map. I got in the car and sat there for a moment, thinking. Looking through the glove compartment, I found my pepper spray and made sure it was full. I pressed 'start' on the map, and began to drive.
No one was out, everyone most likely had the Monday blues, and just went straight home. The small town I resided in had no one around at the moment.
