Possibilities

Danny: Wish Come True

Wednesday, July 14, 2010  7:44 AM

A smile, pearly white, shined down on me. A giggle erupted, I knew it wasn't the coming from the person with the sweet smile. Huh, must have been me. The smile grew wider. Mesmerized, I felt my face go slack with awe.

"Come on, Danny, we have to do this," Tommy's strained voice cut through my favorite memory like a knife. I switched my attention to my right. His eyes were somber and teary, his go lucky nature erased. My brother's frown deepened.

"I know," my words halted his, "I miss her, too."

I opened the driver's door to my 1967 Ford Fastback Mustang. Inhaling deeply, I peered at the cemetery's dying grass. She deserved more than this junky, unkept burial ground.

"You're right," Tommy agreed, as if reading my mind, "She does deserve more."

"How'd you-"

"Danny, for the first five years after she passed you would comment on it, and then the five years after that, including this year, you have thought it... we both have."

He, of course, was right as usual. I glimpsed at him, silently pleading him not to cry because if he breaks down, then my dam will burst and tears will flood out.

"You can go first," I stated politely.

"Okay," Tommy strolled up to the correct chunk of stone sticking out, bending down on to one knee in front of it. Its obvious to see he is talking out loud but softly and possibly hoarsely. The way his lips barely opened to the let the words slip out, like a whispered prayer, showed it all. I knew the material under his knee on his black slacks were most likely wet with the lingering morning dew.

Leaning my elbow on top of my jet black muscle car, I rested my head next to my arm. The cool metal gave my forehead the cold shoulder at first. Then, gradually, it warmed up to my head, welcoming it.

Ten years... ten years since her death, since everything was smashed to bits. Every year we would visit her grave on her birthday and the day she died.

"Hey," Tommy placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Your turn."

"Guess so," I croaked out. Hesitantly, I ambled over to the correct grave site. So simple, the stone indicated where the most intricate and lively person I had ever known was buried. It read:

Katie Anne Mayfield

Loving mother, daughter, and wife

Birth Date: 14 June 1967

Death Date: 7 August 2000

I slowly bent down to one knee in front of the stupid rock. Instantly, droplets of dew leaped from the grass and sailed through the threads of my black slacks.

"Uh, hey, Mom," the dam starting cracking, "Life has been pretty good. Tommy and I just moved into that new house that's close to campus. We're starting our third year of college in about a month."

I could practically hear her response, "I know all of this, Daniel, what aren't you telling me?"

"Well, I, um, met this girl the other day..." I bit my lip.

"And?"

"It's nothing serious at all, but I would really like to see her again. So, if you could charm Jesus or someone important in wherever you are to help me out, that would be amazing," I chuckled nervously.

"That's not funny, Daniel."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, but I have a strong gut feeling about this one and I barely know her. I don't know what to do, Mom."