April Shadows (Shadows 1) - Page 85

I simply stared at her. which I could see annoyed her.

"Okay, April. This isn't easy for anyone. Do you understand?" she asked.

"Yes." I said.

"Good." She looked at Celia, "I'm planning to take a hot shower and go to bed. Do you need anything. Uncle Palaver?"

"No, I'm fine, honey. Thanks."

Brenda rose. Uncle Palaver stood up and hugged her. He hugged Celia. too. Then he looked at me.

"You going to bed now, too. April?" he asked.

"I guess." I said. I stood up, and he hugged me.

"Try to let some sleep. It's a hard day tomorrow," he advised.

I nodded. I couldn't talk. My throat was too tight. He kissed me on the forehead and walked out. For a long moment. I just stood there, listening to their footsteps. Then I followed them all and went to my own room. When I stepped in. I closed the door and simply stood there gazing at everything. I had spent my life in this room, and in a few days, hours. I would leave it forever and ever. In some ways. I would miss it more than anything.

My eyes went to my bed. and I stepped up to it and picked up my Panda doll.

"We're going away. Ms. Panda." I said. "We'll never be back, and you probably know as much as I do about what that all means."

12 Don't Look Back

. It did all go smoothly and quickly. A part of me hated that. A part of me wanted it to be difficult and painful. That part continually chanted that it should not be this easy to slip out of one life and into another. I felt like the snake I saw in a science class movie wiggling out of its skin. It didn't even look back at what it had discarded, despite the fact that what it left behind was once an essential part of who and what it was. All this in a real way fit Brenda's philosophy about her sporting activities: never mourn over a loss, and don't spend all that much time celebrating a victory. Instead, look to the future. What was over was over when the buzzer sounded.

Well, the buzzer had sounded loud and clear on our lives. This game was over. Lingering about to wallow in the memories, to mourn and cry and rage, was pointless to Brenda. Bury the dead and move on were words clearly written over her face. The other part of me actually envied her. I couldn't take my eyes off her the whole time. I so wanted to be like her, wanted to be able to talk to people without sobbing or choking up every thirty seconds, wanted to be able to take charge of every arrangement, answer every new question. Other people noticed it as well, and many commented to me about how lucky I was to have an older sister who was so competent, mature, and responsible.

"How proud your parents would be if they were here," they said. It made it seem as if they were just away and couldn't avoid missing their own funerals.

It was probably true that Brenda's control kept me from falling apart. When she had told me I had to grow up overnight, she was right. No little-girl antics were to be permitted, no ranting and sobbing and sulking. Then, of course. I thought about Daddy and how he hated to show his emotions or his problems in public.

"That's why we have houses," he said once. "That's why we have our own homes, so we can close the doors and cry, and laugh, shout or rage without anyone else witnessing it. The walls are falling down all around us, but not mine, not ours."

Mama's funeral was ironically larger than Daddy's. I understood that there were people who simply couldn't forgive him for leaving us under any circumstances. It was more comfortable for the mourners to attend the funeral of a woman whom they all saw as a victim. The church was nearly filled, in fact, and a surprising number attended the internment as well. I could see Brenda regretted not having something at the house afterward. It would have shown Mama more respect. but Brenda was too hung up on our moving on. In her head. I suppose she actually heard a referee's whistle.

Matter of fact, she went right to the packing when we returned from the cemetery. Uncle Palaver and I worked on making something to eat. Celia had been packing the kitchen utensils, dishes, and silverware all along, and we had to dip into some of the cartons to get things we needed.

"Couldn't this have waited a day at least?" I wandered aloud.

Uncle Palaver didn't answer. I had spent most of my attention on Brenda, clung to Brenda. and I really didn't see how devastated Uncle Palaver was, He looked so lost and alone, dumbfounded and confused at times.

"I wish Destiny could have come with you," I said, and he looked up from the sandwich he was eating mechanically.

"Yes," he said. "I do, too."

"Why couldn't she?" I pursued.

"I didn't want to say anything. There's enough to deal with here, but she's ill."

"Ill? How ill?"

"She has lupus," he said. "What is that. exactly?"

"It's an autoimmune system disease in which a person's own immune system attacks organs and cells, causing dysfunction. It flares up from time to time," he said. "and it just happened to her the day before... before Nora passed on."

"Will she be all right?"

Tags: V.C. Andrews Shadows Horror
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