The One

A Handful of Dust

Hi there. I am introducing you to the much spoken Wayne. He will share the narration of this chapter with one other person. Hope you like him.

Story Continues

Unknown POV

The grey sky seems foreboding. The rushing wind startles all with its rebuking presence. The fire in hearth shivers and shakes, its rage dimmed as its ambers dies, yet in just a blink it roars back to life as if freed from its shackles. The whole place seems to be holding its breath as if listening to a unheard command.  The forests shook and shout along the wind, the trees raging as if caught in an argument,  the animals gone, hidden away from my sight. There is no chirping of birds, no gentle hum of brook , no chatter of monkeys.  Instead, the waterfall seems agitated, the birds nestled in their nests and monkeys muted as if spelled to silence. The atmosphere appears to be pregnant with anticipation, ready to burst. Yet as the thunder roars and lightning brightens the dark skies, my heart feels stifled.

A storm is coming. It's never a good sign for us.

Wayne's POV
 
". . . earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . . ."

The nice weather contrasted with my mood. The clear blue sky, the gentle sun of March, instead of soothing it makes me outraged. The atmosphere seems  giddy and joyful.  I could  hear the children play in the park, shouting and yelling, the people chatting as if invited on a picnic. It makes me feel mocked and taunted, like my lose gave them something to feel happy about. My fists clenched, my breath stifled,  my chest heaving; I must have looked ready to yell and curse as I felt my cousin elbowed my stomach. It did nothing to make me feel better but it did brought me back to reality.
As the coffins lowered and the Priest offered his condolences and assurances,  the only thought that kept ringing in my mind was the sermon -

"Ashes to Ashes,
Dust to dust,"

I never like Church. As a child I outright hated it, it just felt wrong to be there. Don't ask why? I am not sure myself but it felt a wrong place for me to be. Like I am not supposed to be there. It didn't changed with time, but now I know how to appear nonchalant,  specially today. None came to bother me at first. Not that too many attented the function but still, they kept their distance. Or perhaps that might be because of the cold look on my face, as my cousin called it. But I felt better being undisturbed.

No, it's not just apathy. I felt confused, fed up and mostly tired. My hands felt dirty and sticky with the soil I poured into the grave, yet I paid no more heed to it. It still felt like a dream, like I am standing and watching my body move but I can't control it. As if someone else took over me and finished all the action, while I kept on watching. I felt sluggish and weary, almost drowsy but sleep seemed like a distant dream. After that night, my nights passed away in twisting and turning on my bed. They died in an accident, all four of them died of suffocation as the emergency exits failed to open. The officers asked us to visit the morgue to recognize and receive the bodies. I couldn't do it. My cousin Gwen, actually Gwendolyn though she foolishly insist on calling her Rain, entered the room while I kept outside.

Yes, I know. Not exactly a proud moment to ask a girl to do it. Specially when the morgue held her family's bodies as well. But I just couldn't do it. So, she did. I think that she handled it well, surprisingly far better than I thought possible. She didn't sobbed or fainted or wailed, not there at least and nor at home in front of me. Oh, she did cried, but silently. Her tears seemed disciplined almost, they didn't made her appear weak or depressed or listless, just sad. Quiet and clean,  just like her. After the whole technical process, they allowed us to take the bodies for funeral. Our neighbors helped us in arrangements, with almost all our relatives dead, we needed aid to finish the final duties in peace. They provided us with much gratifying information and even food. It made me feel more thankful as we both felt hungry but didn't felt like cooking or ordering. Financial aid came from our parent's jobs and funds and finally we planned everything. I don't know why, but it felt as if going far too smoothly. Our all needs and requirements never met any blocks, the whole funeral arrangements felt surreal. I never thought we would be able to manage anything like it, specially without the guidance of our family. But it happened.  And I felt calm, if a bit shocked by the pace.

The funeral took place eight days after the accident. The technicalities done, the people informed and invited,  the rituals finished; I felt light.  I signaled to Gwen that I am leaving. She glanced at me from where she and the Priest stood  discussing something. She signaled me back to wait, to let her finish her conversation,  but I felt weary. I showed impatience and she relented. She apologized and took her farewell from the Priest. She nodded to me to say something to the Priest as well, but I found myself unable to follow any niceties. Yet I bowed and nodded to him, just to appease her, and then we left. The funeral director, during  arrangements, did  informed us about funeral banquet and likes. But I couldn't agree. I didn't felt ready for it and they told me not to worry. 
As I drove us back to home, I felt Gwen's eyes on me. I know she felt saddened and annoyed that I behaved like a total brat during the whole funeral, leaving her to handle all the work and people, but right now I couldn't bring myself to care.

I felt content in ignoring her till I felt the shift in atmosphere. It happened so quickly it took my breath  away.  The sky changed,  the sun kidnapped by the grey, angry clouds. The gentle breeze became the trumpet of coming storm. The whole route quietened, us being the only passengers of the road.

I felt alerted and charged,  my instincts going haywire. As a basketball player,  my coach did trained me in instincts and alertness and right now my brain seemed erratic. My heart thumping so loudly as if trying to leave my chest,  my nerves on high alert, my senses heightened, my breathing quicker, I felt ready for fight or flight. The surrounding felt changed. I knew the path, the alleys and streets, and never before felt stressed or afraid near my neighborhood but right now I felt as if looking at a totally strange place. Something told me to be wary, that whatever force began this game must not be taken lightly.

I increased my speed, yet it felt like a snail's pace. Finally as I took the turn to reach home my heart settled. I felt at peace as if that danger passed with us remaining unnoticeable to it. But in my haste, to park the car and enter the house, I felt to notice the changes in Gwen. As I finally stopped the car and stepped down, she remained still as if in a trance.  I called her thrice to get her attention.  As we entered the house the weather cleared again as if it never happened. But as I looked back at the sky, I felt as if I am caught in a trap and this fragile peace is merely a calm before the storm.

As I closed the door, with a second glance at the sky once again the funeral sermon rang in my mind-
 ". . , ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . . ."