The Life Of A Screen Goddess [Two]

Chapter Two: "Rain"


I was sent to live with my mother's brother, Joe. I didn't remember even having an uncle, but apparently I did. We were scheduled to meet him at my mother's funeral; "we" being myself and my social worker; a chubby lady in her 30's, with chestnut hair, who seemed extremely familiar to me. When I asked her if I had met her before, she answered, after a long silence, "I helped your mother out years ago." The answer gave little resolution to my question, and I assumed I had seen her when I was a child. I didn't remember much from those days, and my mother had always thought it strange. But I just kept telling myself that it was normal.

The rain trickled down my face. It seemed to always rain at funerals. At my father's funeral, it was so wet and muddy I had to wear rubber boots underneath my dress. He died when I was six. Car crash. I didn't really remember him, like everything else from around that time. I remembered my rubber boots though. And the rain; heavier than the rain that fell now. Now it was light and sweet, like my mother's smell. I missed her smell. I missed her loving eyes and her comforting smile. I even missed her hands, as disturbing as they were with those long pink fingernails. She said once that when it rained, angels were crying. Maybe the angels were crying now. Or maybe it just rained so no one could see ME crying.

Helen's hand was on my back gently as we approached my mother's casket [Helen was the social worker]. Months before her death, my mother requested that she not have an open casket, no matter how she died. She wanted people to remember her how she was, and I was glad for that. I would remember her how she was. Her picture sat in a frame on top of the casket. Rain drops trickled down the frame, slowly, like tears. I gently wiped the water away from her face, and whispered, "Don't cry, Mama." Hearing me, Helen rubbed my back, as if to comfort me.

I saw him then, on the other side of the casket, staring back at me. I suddenly felt faint, and I reached for the wood in front of me for balance. "Are you alright?" Asked Helen, at my side. "Yeah," I answered slowly, looking back up at the mysterious man. "Is that him?" I asked her. She looked up at him, and he blinked and turned away. "Yes, that's your uncle." She confirmed. He was my only living relative now.

After the funeral, the same man approached us, as we were standing up from our seats. "Oh, hello, Joe. I'm sorry for your loss." Joe shrugged at Helen's apology, and looked to me. "You must be the girl." His words were cold and piercing, like an icicle stabbing through my freshly wounded heart. I felt afraid then, and I looked up at Helen. She returned my stare with all-knowing hazel brown eyes, and then turned back to Joe. "I'm sorry, would you excuse us for a moment? We'd just like to say our goodbyes." She defended me. "Oh, you two close?" His eyes shifted back and forth between us like a hawk's. Helen touched his arm gently. "Please, we won't be long." He turned around slowly and found the food table.

Helen and I sat back down, and she moved in close. "Alright, I'm going to give you my card. Two, incase you lose one, or incase he asks for it. I want you to call me if you're ever in trouble, okay?" I nodded, and she slid two cards into my dress pocket, then smiled sweetly. "I'm going to miss you. You take care of yourself." She hugged me, and we stood, and walked toward Joe.

I hated to leave her. Helen; my mother; both of them. This man was cold and creepy, and I was leaving all that I had known behind; trading my old life for a new one. I clutched at the cards in my pocket, as if they were all that was keeping me alive; keeping me sane; keeping me from breaking down and crying. I knew Joe wouldn't like that. Something told me there wasn't much he would like. I wished it was raining in that car, so I could be invisible - my grief, my fear, my body - invisible...


[Novel continued]