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Chapter 8: Chain Letter by Stephen Simpson

She goes upstairs and she makes the beds, tidying up each room. She goes downstairs again, carrying a basket of dirty laundry.

Putting the laundry into the washing machine, she selects the correct cycle for mixed garments and switches on the machine. She stares at the washing machine for a while, the washing going around and round, and then walks to the study. She switches on her computer.

Instead of waiting while the computer starts up, she goes to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Looking out the window while she waits for the coffee, her expression without expression, she sees nothing, her mind is far away and the tears start to roll down her cheeks, regret starting to pull at the strings of her heart.

How many times had she been too occupied to write more than the cursory note in these last seven months, always promising to write a longer mail? Why could she not have phoned more often?

*

The aroma of the coffee fills the kitchen and the shrill alarm of the microwave brings her back to the now. Pouring the coffee into a mug, she adds the warm milk from the microwave.

She picks the mug up from the counter and folding her hands around it, for warmth, she walks back to the study.

The computer is waiting for her to enter her password, which she types in without thinking. The screen opens and she double-clicks on the icon to open the Internet.

She types ‘flights’ into the field provided in her search engine and soon she has pages and pages of information. Opening the first link, she starts to search for the earliest, convenient flight.

Her phone's ringtone suddenly echoes through the house and looking around she realizes that she had left the phone on the kitchen counter. She gets up hurriedly, sighing frustrated.

The phone stops ringing as soon as she picks it up and she sees that it is a missed call from Peter. She is just about to press the call button to return his call when her ringtone starts up again.

She answers the phone, “Hello, Peter.”

“Hey. How are you?” He asks worriedly.

“I'm okay.” Hearing his concerned voice, threatens the start of a new batch of helpless tears.

“I'll be home at four, so we could leave this evening.”

“I'll book a flight for tonight,” she answers automatically and then remembers his possible promotion. Trying desperately to make her life go back to normal, pretending that everything is as it was before Stephen's phone call, she asks, “Did you get the promotion?”

He laughs, but then stops abruptly. He answers more demurely, “Of course I did. Did you ever have any doubt?”

Lisa cannot help smiling. “I'm glad.”

“So, I'll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

She ends the conversation and then taking the phone with her she walks back to the study. She books the very first flight for this evening, regardless of the cost. It would have to be an expense they will worry about later.

She shuts down the computer and then walks up the stairs to Paul's room. She packs for a week. First packing the clothes methodically on the bed and then into the suitcases.

She does the same for E’lisa, Peter and herself.

She phones the school and explains to the secretary that she will be taking the kids out of school for a week, explaining it is for personal reasons and they would be leaving the country, but she would send a letter once Paul and E’lisa returns to school.

When she finishes her conversation with the school, she realizes it is already time to collect Paul and E’lisa.

The car is quiet on the way home, Paul and E’lisa staring out the windows at the rain.

Getting home, E’lisa goes straight to her room, while Lisa takes Paul by the hand, pulling him gently towards the lounge.

“Come, I want to speak to you. It won't take long.”

“Why are our suitcases at the door Mommy? Are we going on holiday?”

“We are going away, but it won't be for a holiday.”

“Are you and Daddy also getting a divorce, like John's mommy and daddy?”

She smiles sadly. “No, my sweetie, we are going to Granny's house.”

Immediately his eyes light up. The last holiday they spent at Granny's home was magical. She has dogs and a garden, and it is always sunny, you can play outside all day. “Yippee!” He exclaims.

“I am so sorry, Paul, but it is not going to be as much fun as the last time, because you see, Granny died last night, and she won't be there.”

How do you explain to a child this young what death is - there is no real way, is there? You could tell them the person has gone to heaven, or you can tell them that person is now an angel looking over us. What do you really say to bring across the fact that this person is gone forever, without scaring them into thinking after you are dead you are nothing but a memory?

He looks at her for a while, deep in thought.

Kids these days grow up so fast with television, at seven they know more than what most adults over forty only knew when they were sixteen.

“How did she die?” He asks after a while.

“In her sleep, she had a heart attack.”

It suddenly dawns on Lisa as she says the words, that there had never been any heart problems in her family, or any in her mother's that she knows of. Her mom was healthy and fit. It almost seems impossible.

Paul's voice breaks through her thoughts. “That's sad, I'll miss her.”

“I know, we all will, my pumpkin,” Lisa says softly, while smiling at him sadly.

“Can I go now?” He asks quietly.

“Of course.”

He gets up and then runs down the hall and up the stairs to his room.

So much for all her worrying about how he would handle it, she thinks sorrowfully.







Copyright © Stephen Simpson. All Rights Reserved. 
All work created and posted on this blog is the intellectual property of Stephen Simpson.

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