Lost Memories

The yellow stone sparkled in the sunlight. I moved the ring left and right, watching a thin line move across the stone. I slipped the ring back on my finger. Cat’s eye. I think that was the name of the stone set into the silver design on top of the ring.
         “Pretty!” I looked up as my little brother walked up and crawled into my lap. He had just turned three. I felt his small fingers run over mine, stopping whenever he touched my ring.
         Gunshots. I snatched my little brother and ran into the woods. I stopped after a while, panting. My little brother burst into tears, terrified.
         “Joshua, it’s okay. Stop crying.” I tried to comfort my little brother. At this rate, the war would leave him scarred for life. “Joshua, hush or they’ll find us!” I hissed, clamping my hand over his mouth. It did little to keep him quiet.
         “I WANT MY MOMMY!” he screamed, falling quiet shortly afterwards. I felt a pang of sadness. Germans had invaded our homes, and took our parents. Joshua and I only escaped because we were out in the woods at the time. The very woods we were lurking in, in an attempt to escape from the Germans who had apprehended our parents. I heard rumors about the camps that the Jews were sent to. Apparently, they were horrible places. I doubted that my parents were coming back. It had been a year since then. A year of hiding. Joshua and I only had each other. We survived on berries and water from the multiple creeks streaming through the forest. The only material object we possessed was my cat’s eye ring. It was a gift from Mother.
         Footsteps. Barking dogs. Joshua froze in my arms. He was deathly afraid of dogs ever since an accident when he was two years old. I held my breath, and hoped that the stillness of the air had carried the sound to us; that the sound was coming from the other side of the woods. I heard an unearthly scream. It was a scream of fright, and the realization that the life of that person would never be the same again. Then again, it could be a panther or some other large animal’s cry. I had heard that panthers sounded like a baby or woman crying. I had never actually heard one for myself, so I wasn’t sure. The dogs and gunshots still continued, those two sounds underlying the echo of the inhuman scream.
         As quickly as everything started, it stopped. I looked around wildly as I put Joshua down. He stayed close to me. I tried to catch my breath when the bushes near us shuffled. I turned around, and everything went black…

         I awoke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat. I sat up in my bed, felling a dull ache in my back and knees from my worsening arthritis. I got up and shuffled into the bathroom. I gazed into the mirror, taking in its reflection. The wrinkled face looked solemn. The memories of escape, but eventually capture, still haunted me.
         “Grandma? Are you okay?” the small voice created sadness in my heart. So innocent, like Joshua…
         I turned around. My grandchild stood in the bathroom doorway. There was a look of worry in Arabelle’s bright eyes. They were a beautiful liquid brown color.
         “Are you okay?” Arabelle asked again. I nodded.
         “Yes, I’m fine.” I said. “Go back to bed, sweetie.” Arabelle nodded. She turned and I heard the creaking of springs as she got back into her bed, which sat right beside mine. I returned to the mirror. I was so foolish back then. I thought that we would be able to escape, and stupidly led Joshua and myself into a trap…I was saved when the Americans liberated the camp, but for Joshua, it was too late.
         I gulped back tears as the horrid memory came flooding back. The Nazi soldiers forcing Joshua out of my arms, even though I protested angrily, making all kinds of threats, the soldier throwing him in the air, gunshots…the tears were bubbling up much faster now. Such painful memories exhausted me. I went back to bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.
         I woke up the next morning, still depressed. Arabelle got up as well and went into the kitchen to eat breakfast. The same thought kept running through my head. I decided that it would be best. It was just too painful to keep it any longer. The bad memories it held for me wouldn’t matter to Arabelle. Not a least until she was older.
         “Arabelle?” I said, trying to get my granddaughter’s attention as well as keep control over my tears. She turned around, the spoon I put in her cereal still in her mouth. I walked up to her very slowly.
         “Arabelle, honey, hold your hand out.” Arabelle closed her eyes and held her hand out. I placed the cat’s eye ring that I had treasured for so long in her hand, watching the vertical line slide across the stone for the very last time.
         “This is your ring, Arabelle.” She smiled.
         “Pretty!” she cried. I bit my tongue. So much like Joshua… she was the same age, and had the same eyes and the same hair color. Arabelle slipped the ring on her index finger. It fit. I turned away, tears running over as Arabelle went back to eating her cereal. She was so much like Joshua…
         Arabelle turned around. I tried to cover my face so she wouldn’t see me cry. It didn’t work.
         “Grandma, what’s wrong? Do you want your ring back?” she asked. I shook my head.
         “No child. It’s yours.”
         “Grandma, every time you see me you start to cry. Why? Don’t you like me?” Arabelle asked, looking very scared. I shook my head again.
         “Arabelle, I love you. You’re not the reason I cry.” I said, and immediately regretted it. ‘It’s true, every time I see her; I start to cry, because she reminds me of Joshua. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings.’ I thought. 
         “Do I remind you of someone you miss?” Arabelle asked. I was astonished. How did she know that?
         “Arabelle, what makes you think that?” I asked, trying to keep my feeble voice from cracking.
         “I heard you in your sleep. You said, ‘Joshua’ and then you said, ‘I miss him’.” Arabelle replied. I took in a deep breath.
         “Arabelle, I cry every time I see you because you remind me of my little brother, Joshua. I miss him so much.”
         “Is he dead?” Arabelle asked. She wasn’t trying to be rude, just curious. I nodded.
         “Yes Arabelle. Joshua died when he was three and when I was 16.” I replied. I didn’t try to stop the tears this time.
         “It’s okay, Grandma. When you go to Heaven you’ll see him again.” Arabelle said reassuringly. I nodded.
         “Yes…I’ll eventually see him again.” I replied.
         The next day, I watched from my front door as Arabelle got into the car. Her mother held the door open.
         “Mom, thanks for watching her over the weekend. It means a lot.” My daughter, Annette, said. She had her father’s eyes, a bright shade of green.
         “It’s no trouble. Arabelle really enjoyed herself. She had fun.” I said. I sat down
on the porch and gazed across the wide open fields on the opposite side of the road as the car sped off. I felt something touch my shoulder. I turned around quickly, and saw the silhouette of a small boy flicker, and then disappear. I recognized the face immediately. Joshua… he wanted me to stop grieving as I had done for the past 60 or so years. I nodded to myself.
         “All right. I’ll move on Joshua. Wait for me at the gate when I get there.” I said, walking back inside. I fell asleep quickly later that night.

         “Momma, did Grandma go to Heaven?” Arabelle asked. Annette nodded.
         “Yes. She doesn’t hurt anymore.” Annette said, trying to hold back tears. She stared down into the casket. The old woman inhabiting it did look very peaceful. The ghost of a smile was stretched across the tight flesh on the face.
         “Momma, Grandma told me that she would see her little brother Joshua again when she went to heaven.” Arabelle said. She wasn’t crying.
         “Yes, Arabelle. Grandma is with Joshua right now.” Annette said. She walked out of the funeral home, Arabelle in her arms. ‘She’s in a better place now.’ Annette thought. She remembered the heart-breaking story of her mother’s childhood during the Holocaust. ‘Well, at least she can see Joshua again. I know she’s truly happy now.’ Annette thought.
         “Momma, don’t cry. Grandma wouldn’t want you to be like she was.” Arabelle said as Annette put her child down. Annette nodded. ‘Yes. I know that’s what mom would’ve wanted.’  She thought as she got into the car. She gazed out the windshield, watching the thin clouds in the sky. They gave the impression of wispy hair floating around in the deep blue expanse that was the sky. ‘Mom always loved these kinds of clouds.’ She thought. Annette smiled. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel happy.