You'll Just Know

Chapter 25

            So much seemed to happen that day, so quickly, that on thinking back, it seems that it all must surely have taken a week. I’ve run the events carefully through my head countless times since then, though, and as impossible as it may seem, it was just one day. All of it. Just one day…

            A Tuesday. No school that day. Spring Break. Thunderclouds had begun marching in from the east in the early morning, and my early afternoon they covered the sky from horizon to horizon. They hung heavy and dark with expectation, smothering the sunlight and saturating the breeze.

            Wendy and I sat in the cemetery together that afternoon, on the cold stone bench we’d frequented so often near Norma’s image. The lone oak in the center of the cemetery, perhaps hesitant to celebrate spring in such somber surroundings, had reluctantly pushed forth only a few dull green leaves. These rustled half-heartedly in the cool afternoon wind.

            Wendy sat close to me and I had my arm around her. We both listened instead of talked. Thunder rumbled darkly above us and seemed to roll across the sky. It was noon, but the air had the quality of twilight. In front of us, Norma bowed her head eternally towards the stone rose cupped in her hands. The weight of the world seemed to press upon her shoulders.

            I felt Wendy’s warmth beside me, caught her light fragrance in the cool breeze, and inhaled deeply. I held that moment, fixed it in my mind, and vowed not to forget it. I vowed not to forget the comforting feeling of her presence or the wonderful feeling I had when I was with her that everything was right. I smiled inwardly despite the gray surroundings. Above, thunder shook within the darkening clouds.

            I looked down to Wendy’s hand and at the ring she was wearing. Norma’s ring. It had fit her almost perfectly. Wendy had been wearing it since last summer. In fact, since the very night I had first come to her window and given it to her.

            I looked up at the chalk white image of Norma again, standing silent vigil near her own grave. I couldn’t help but feel that maybe she shared my inward smile. We had found the love that she had lost. It had worked out right this time.

            A distant flicker of electric blue reflected off the clouds to the east.

            Wendy, as if reading my thoughts, found my hand and squeezed it firmly in hers. “It’s not fair.” she said, just above the sound of the restless breeze.

            I turned to her. “What’s not fair?” I matched her soft tone unconsciously. The world seemed too hushed to speak loudly.

            “Norma and Walter never got to be together. They were cheated.”

            I considered this, watching Norma’s sad expression. “Maybe they’re together now.” I said.

            Wendy began to answer, but decided against it. The cool wind picked up again, whipping against us roughly for a moment. The iron gate at the entrance to the cemetery let out a loud, slow creak on rusted hinges, then was silent.

            “Maybe.” Wendy said at last. Then, quietly, “I hope so…”

            As if in reply, thunder rumbled hollowly from directly overhead.

*               *               *

            Later that day, I impatiently worked my way through the afternoon shift at The Trolley. Business was slow that day (probably because of the threatening weather), and a lot of my time was spent leaning absently against the kitchen sink and daydreaming. Smiley had propped open the door in the back of the kitchen, and the cool, restless breeze came and went freely, occasionally pulling in a sour whiff of garbage from the alley outside. Cora would bring in a dirty dish or two every once in a while, but they were few and far between. I washed them slowly, my mind wandering in a million different directions as I listened to the gathering storm outside.