Dying Wish

by Margaret McHeyzer

  Dance while you sleep

  Timeless forever

  Just like you’re dancing with me

  You let me be who I wanted to be

  We always thought we’d grow old together

  Who could have seen that you’d ever leave

  Now your spirit lives on forever

  Dance while you sleep

  While I stand here in wonder

  Let your soul free like you dance in your dreams

  Dance while you sleep

  Timeless forever

  Just like you’re dancing with me

  Just like you’re dancing. . . .

  When I open my eyes, I see there’s not one dry eye in the entire room. I walk over to where Elijah is, and collapse into his waiting arms. He holds me tightly, soothing me with words that are meant to console me, but they’re just a white noise. Alice is gone.

  The priest goes back to the front, and speaks his final words. Again, they all melt into one another, not making any sense to me. I’m beside myself with the weight of the sorrow coursing through every part of me.

  The priest steps away from the front, retrieves the photo from the top of the casket, and delivers it to Mrs. Brackman. The pallbearers move forward and push the casket into the cavity. The funeral director closes the steel door, and the rich red velvet curtains in front of it slowly close.

  “No,” Mrs. Brackman cries. “Not my baby girl.” She hugs Mr. Brackman, whose own tears are cascading down his face.

  This is the end. The end of a beautiful life, ripped away from us too early. The end of my sister, my best friend.

  The curtains come to a complete close.

  “Goodbye. I love you so much,” Elijah whispers and hugs me tighter.

  It takes a while before we leave the crematorium, and as we’re standing outside there’s a man handing out white balloons with pink silk ribbons attached.

  The entire town is here. A sea of black clothing swarms the area in front of the crematorium. Mrs. Brackman is a complete mess, but she takes a balloon and steps forward. Everyone watches her, as she closes her eyes and tilts her head up to the sky.

  “You’re free now, Alice. Dance while you sleep, sweet girl.” She smiles, and releases the balloon.

  “Dance while you sleep,” everyone echoes and releases their balloons.

  A beautiful white cloud of balloons floats up to the sky, their pink ribbons gently flutter in the breeze.

  I close my eyes, and let my balloon go. “Be free.” Once Elijah releases his balloon, his arms go around my shoulders again.

  I lean into him, and cry.

  It’s the only way I know how to cope.

  Five months, two weeks, and three days. That’s how long Alice has been gone. I haven’t been hanging out with Becky at school. Truthfully, I’ve been avoiding everyone. I just can’t handle their attempts at sympathy. They’re always asking me, ‘How are you doing today?’ which is then followed by, ‘One day you’ll find someone like Alice.’ Here’s the thing—there’s no one in this world like Alice. No one. I’m not sure I can open my heart again, because the only thing I can feel is consuming love for my princess, and grief at losing her so soon.

  It’s two in the morning, and when I feel like I need to be close to my princess, I come here. Under her tree. Her parents have made almost like a shrine beneath it. The old swing is now gone and it’s been replaced with a stone bench seat, with a small plaque that says ‘Dance while you sleep, our beautiful angel. You may have gone to heaven, but you’ll forever be in our hearts.’

  I like sitting on the ground and not on the stone bench. It makes me feel like I’m closer to Alice. She told her parents she wanted to be cremated and her ashes scattered here, so they dug around her tree and scattered her ashes beneath it.

  “I miss you so fucking much.” I drag my hand over the soft grass, the texture gentle against my rough palm. “Do you know Jacki tried it on me?” I chuckle and shake my head. “She told me that in order to get over you, I should sleep with the first chick to throw herself at me. I laughed at her, princess.”

  I look up through the swaying leaves at the moon, and blink several times. The air’s still got a nip to it. Soon, the nights will heat up and before we know it, school will be over.

  “Are you happy where you are?” I don’t expect an answer. I’m simply asking because I want her to know how much I miss her. “I hope so. God knows, I’m miserable without you. Dad offered to employ me full time once school’s over. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. And before you put your hand on your hip and tell me to pull my act together and get into the music industry, I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.”

  I look back down to the grass, and take in a deep breath. “I hope . . .”

  I’m interrupted when I hear a noise coming from the side of the house. It sounds like the gate creaking open. Quietly I stand, ready to make an excuse to Alice’s parents about why I’m here. Instead though, a mass of blonde hair comes from around the side.

  “What the . . .” I murmur to myself.

  Becky’s head is turned as she makes her way down toward Alice’s tree. She turns around a few feet before she falls into my arms. She lets out a squeal when her eyes meet mine. “Elijah,” she says clutching her chest. “You scared the shit out of me.” She looks around to make sure Alice’s parents aren’t on their way out here.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. It’s been months since we’ve spoken. Since the funeral.

  “I could ask you the same question.” Her breathing is rapid, though her eyes are weary. “As a matter of fact, what are you doing here?” She places a hand on her jutted-out hip. I guide her over to sit at the bench seat, but she shakes her head and sits on the grass, her back to the trunk of the tree. “I sit on the ground when I come here.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I sit on the lawn across from her and lean my elbows on my knees. “I’ve been coming here since . . . you know,” I partly answer her question. “You?”

  “It helps me,” she says, nodding, and runs her hand through her hair. “It helps me feel closer to her. Because I know she’s here.” She places her hand on the grass, then to her heart.

  “How are you doing?” I ask. I feel guilty. I should’ve stayed in touch with her. Alice made me promise, but I haven’t been able to do it. Not because I don’t like Becky. I do. But it’s too hard. Alice and Becky spent every minute together, and to have her near me . . . I’m not sure I can cope with it.

  “It’s been difficult. You know?” She gives me a wan smile, though it’s completely forced, like she’s only talking to me now because she has to. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me because she’s finding it hard too. “She was always such a large part of my life. If I had good news, she’d be the first one I’d talk to. If I was sad, she was the one who was there to help me through it.”

  I nod my head and focus on the grass instead of Becky. “Yeah, I know.”

  “When Mom died, I snuck out and came here to Alice’s house. I couldn’t handle it because I thought I’d killed my Mom.” My eyes fly to Becky, and I notice the tears pooling in hers. “I fell asleep with Alice on her bed. We were holding hands.” She wrings her hands together, it looks to me like she’s imagining Alice is still here, holding her hand. “We were so young, we had the world at our feet. Now . . .” her dragged tone describes the sadness she’s going through. “We thought we had forever. As it turns out, we only have right now.” She wipes at her cheeks. The tears that were pooling in her eyes are now falling. Becky stares vacantly at something invisible.

  I have to say something. I know Becky’s hurting, because I am too. There’s no way her heart has healed. Impossible. I should know. The air around us becomes stifling, it’s hard to breathe. I say the first thing to come to mind, “How’s the band doing?”

  Becky lifts her eyes, wipes her tears and half smiles at me. “It’s not, at least not for me. I had to step back from it.”

  “What? No way!” I’m struck wi
th guilt, because I made Alice a promise and I haven’t been able to keep it. “Why?” I should have been there for Becky. Alice knew she wouldn’t be able to cope, and made me promise to help her. I feel like a failure.

  “I’ve lost the passion.” Christ, she’s losing herself. She’s consumed with sadness. “I haven’t been able to play a chord. Not one. Thankfully, the guys understand, and told me to come back to them when I’m ready. But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.” She lets out a humorless chuckle, the sadness inside her pouring out of her body. She’s a shadow of her former self.

  I’m sorry, Alice. I should’ve been there for her. I made you a promise, and I haven’t been able to keep it. I have to make this right. “Wanna hear something stupid?” I shake my head at myself and roll my eyes.

  “Yeah.”

  I pull my phone out and bring up Alice’s bucket list. “I once asked Alice what her bucket list was, and she couldn’t give me an answer. Just before she . . .” I clear my throat, unable to bring myself to say the words. “Just before her . . . Um . . . you know.” Becky nods her head. “I found her bucket list. And I’ve been trying to fulfill it, but some things aren’t so easy to do.” I hold my phone out to Becky, and she takes it.

  The light of the phone illuminates her eyes, and I watch her scanning over the list. She smiles, though her eyebrows draw together. “She wanted to get a tattoo? She never told me that.”

  “Nor me. I had no idea about that.”

  “I know some of these should be crossed off. Like losing her virginity.” She looks up at me and smiles. And this time, the smile is genuine, and so beautiful. Wow, when Becky smiles, her entire face lights up.

  “I found this list before that happened.” I run my hand through my hair and nervously chuckle.

  “She told me all about it.” Fuck. “She was so happy.” She chews on her nail and drags her eyes back down the list. “Pat a snake?” Her shoulders tremble as she makes a grimace.

  “I did that. I went to a reptile park, waited to speak to one of the keepers and patted the fucking thing. Why the fuck she’d want to pat a snake, I have no idea.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  “Smooth, but strangely soft and kind of cool to the touch.” I screw my nose up. “I can cross that fucker off. Though dancing The Nutcracker may be challenging for me.”

  Becky lets out a small laugh. Wow, she’s actually smiling. She reaches out to hand my phone back, but jerks it back as I extend my arm. “Elijah.” She looks at the list, then darts her eyes to the side. “Can we do this together?”

  “Do what together?”

  “Her bucket list. I know it says it’s for you, but can I join you? Please? It might help me finally let her go.” She hands me my phone, then chews on her nail again. “Please?” she begs in a small voice.

  I made a promise to Alice, and so far, I’ve sucked at keeping it. “Sure, that’s a great idea.” Her eyes light up her face. She looks so happy. “Hey, have you gone around to see her parents?”

  Becky shakes her head, the happiness she showed a few seconds earlier has now completely disappeared. “I saw them the week of the funeral. But after that, I haven’t been able to. I don’t know what to say.” She shrugs her shoulders, although I can tell the shrug is like her defense mechanism.

  “I haven’t been either. I’ve been waiting for them to come out here and tell me to leave, but they haven’t. I’ve been lucky they don’t know I sneak out here, I guess.”

  Becky picks at her nail she’s been incessantly chewing at, while her eyes are downcast. “It’s too hard for me. They were like my own parents. I was part of their family and suddenly their daughter is gone and I can’t bring myself to see them.”

  “You should. I’m sure they’d really love to see you.”

  “Come with me,” she says with conviction.

  “Me? I wasn’t part of the family.”

  “Did you love Alice?”

  My mouth picks up in a slight smirk. “So much. I still love her.”

  “Then I’m sure they’d like to have you there too. So come with me. We can go together.”

  Extending my legs, I cross them at the ankle and keep looking at Becky. I want to go, because it was Alice’s dying wish for us to look after her parents. But neither Becky nor I have been able to fulfill that for her either. Hell, what a fucked-up boyfriend I ended up being. I haven’t looked after Becky and I haven’t been able to see her parents. She’d be so disappointed in me. Truth be told, I’m disappointed in myself.

  “You know what, Crest?” I notice the smile perk up on Becky’s lips when I call her the nickname I gave her way back when . . . when we were all happy. “I’m going to take you up on that offer. You’re right, I think they’ll be happy to see us.”

  “Deal.” She rocks forward and holds out her hand to me. “Shake on it, because I know you’ll stick to your word.”

  She’s got way too much faith in me. Look at the promises I made Alice, and I haven’t been able to keep those. Until now. “Deal.”

  She stands and brushes grass off her butt. “I have to go. We’ve got school tomorrow, and I’m tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow about coming to see Alice’s parents.”

  I stand too. It’s late and I need to get some sleep. “I’ll walk you home,” I offer.

  “You know, I’m safe in this neighborhood.” She pushes on my shoulder playfully.

  “Yeah I know. But I still want to.” I made Alice a promise, and I’m going to stick to it, regardless that it’s five months too late.

  She gives me a carefree smile and we both quietly leave Alice’s backyard and head toward Becky’s home.

  Elijah said he’d be here at five to pick me up. It’s been four days since I discovered that he’s been going to Alice’s tree almost as much as I have.

  We hung out at school on Friday, and it felt kinda nice. It was weird though, with Alice gone and us hanging out together. We looked at her bucket list, and decided the first thing we’d do is go ride an elephant. So next weekend, we’re going to the wildlife park so we can ride an elephant.

  I look to the clock and see it’s just before five, so I slip on shoes and go out front to wait for him. Dad’s at work, like usual, and Caine’s at college. He barely ever comes home. He’s caught up in the campus lifestyle. Apparently, partying and girls are his second priority, right up there with his college degree. Thankfully, he’s studying hard too, and flying through the work.

  I can’t blame him though, for not wanting to come home. There’s no one here really. He could barely handle me crying all the time once Alice passed away. He’d hug me and tell me it was okay, but he just doesn’t do emotion. He told me it reminded him too much of when Mom died.

  Without sounding like I didn’t care about Mom, which of course I do, but Alice’s death was harder for me. No—correction, it is harder.

  Sitting on the bottom step leading up to the porch I look up into the late afternoon sky. “I miss you, Alley-cat,” I say and blow her a kiss. “I’m trying not to cry, but it’s not getting any easier. I thought by now, I wouldn’t be crying as much.” I smile as I talk to my sister. “Can you get your butt down here and help me snap out of it?” I ask in a sassy tone. “Hell, I haven’t even able to play my guitar. I bet you’re sitting up there, next to God, and you two are having a conversation about me, right? Are you screaming at me and telling me to pull my head out of my ass?” I can’t help but chuckle, imagining her perched up there telling God all about me. “You’re laughing at me, right?” I take my ponytail out and start to nervously plait my hair. “I should moon you!” I chuckle again.

  Elijah pulls up outside my place, and toots the horn once. I get up, still plaiting my hair and head over to his car. “Hey there, thanks for picking me up.” I tie the elastic around the bottom, then get in the car.

  “No troubles at all.” He looks me over and smiles. “You look nice, Crest.”

  I look down at the jeans I’m wearing, and my heart d
rops. “These are Alice’s. She lent them to me when we went horseback riding. I forgot to give them back to her,” my voice gets small. I shouldn’t be wearing them. It might hurt her parents too much to see me in them. “Can you turn around?” I ask Elijah when he’s down the street.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” But the heaviness in the car is a giveaway that no, I’m not alright.

  “I should change. It’s wrong for me to be wearing these.”

  “I don’t get it, why are you changing? You look really nice.” He shakes his head, though slows down and pulls over on the side of the road.

  “These are Alice’s!” I yell at him. “Don’t you get it?” He’s shaking his head and has a dumb-assed look of confusion on his face. “They’re already going to be disappointed in me for not staying in touch with them, I don’t want them even more upset because I’m wearing her clothes.” My heart beats erratically as my palms sweat with nervousness and shame.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose, then leans his forehead down on the steering wheel. “Look,” he mumbles in frustration. “They’re not going to be disappointed or upset with you, I’m positive they’re just going to be happy to see you.” He leans over and takes my hand in his. “Okay?”

  I breathe in deeply, then exhale slowly calming my nerves. “Okay.” How bizarre, he’s managed to calm the storm brewing inside me.

  “Okay,” he repeats my word, smiles at me, and pulls into the road heading toward Alice’s house.

  The ride is quick, and we soon pull up in front of the house I know so well. Yes, I’ve been sneaking into their backyard, but this is different now. Mrs. B’s car is in the driveway, and I know they’re home, inside, awake, and missing Alice as much as I am.

  “Here we go,” Elijah says.

  This feels wrong, like we shouldn’t be here. “What if they’re . . . ?”

  “They won’t be,” he answers my unasked question. “We need to be strong, and take the first steps to see them. They have no idea how we’re handling Alice’s . . .” again he can’t bring himself to say the word. “Alice’s . . . um.” He clears his throat and rolls his head. “Everything’s different now, Becky. But we need to try and be there for them too. We made a promise to Alice.”