Memory Documentation

chapter twenty | documenting the greatest gift of all

The breath left my lungs as I saw the view.

To someone else, they wouldn't have understood the value of what I saw. They wouldn't quite understand when Kristy said Josie picked to host the celebration here because of this specific feature. But to me, the sight was everything.

At the bottom of the steps was a basketball court, but not just any normal one – it was a blacktop court. Not a majestic secret garden, but a Blacktop Garden, grander yet still reminiscent of the one at the orphanage. Not only was the sight of black asphalt heavily nostalgic, but right in the center, written in huge bubble font, were the words, "Sylvia, Our Angel." Some people took to coloring the letters, while others sprouted outwards, doodling and writing in an array of colorful chalk.

"This is amazing," I said to Kristy as we reached the bottom of the steps.

"The second balcony has the best view. Emery did a fantastic job with the center artwork."

Emery.

I began to look around for a girl with tight, red curls, but before I could see her amongst the crowd of parents, grandparents, and children drawing gleefully on the ground, I heard my name.

Emery's vibrant hair wasn't curly now, but straightened and pulled back into a low ponytail. She was much shorter than me or the girls that were with her. A black jumpsuit, covered with the dust of chalk, clung to the soft curves of her body. She ran to me with a squeal and chorus of "Oh my God" and "It's you!"

As I accepted her hug, I thought back to how many reunion hugs I've had just like this before. Kristy just a few moments ago, Jessica at my front door, Reece at his apartment, Chris in the cafe. Reunion hugs were the best hugs.

    "Darce, I don't know if you remember Zarah and Albany," Kristy said, waving forward the two girls that had been with Emery. Memories of them were more hazy and scarce, but I smiled and pulled them into an animated hug as well. As Albany and I pulled away, I saw another girl behind her just a few feet away, dressed in a simple black blouse and black jeans. She watched us with hard brown eyes and a rather... pissed expression.

    I jumped as Kristy addressed her, this time with a cold edge in her voice. "Rayna. Would you like to join us, or is this joyous moment not appropriate right now?"

    Rayna's frown deepened into a scowl. Zarah took me by the elbow and guided me back, making way for Kristy and Rayna to throw daggers with their eyes.

This was the Kristy I knew. The upward tilt of her chin, the straightness in her back, and the one hand planted on her hip. Suddenly, I'm six again, watching Kristy stare at Rayna the same way she did Reece when we were unsure of what kind of guy he was. Even then, Kristy was bold. Unintimidated by the intimidating.

I hesitated to speak, but the panic in me pushed the words out. I leaned towards Albany and whispered, "What's wrong?"

Before Albany could reply, Rayna spoke. "What's wrong is that Kristy's been walking around this place with nothing but a fucking smile on her face, as if this isn't a memorial meal for Sylvia."

Kristy gestured grandly to the lot around us. "The hell, Rayna? I'm not the only one smiling. As if we didn't cry enough at the funeral service itself. As if I didn't cry enough when I found out the news. I still visited Sylvia when I left the orphanage. She was at my high school graduation. She wrote me my letter of recommendation for college. I made sure to send her flowers every year for her birthday. I bake her cookie recipe when I need to cheer up. I still hear her voice giving me guidance whenever I'm unsure. Of course I'm fucking devastated! But if I were gone and I knew that people were only crying when they thought of me, I'd be pretty devastated about that, too," she snapped.