Village

Village Part 4

Celeste awoke to the sound of horses, cars, and chatter. It was early still, dawn breaking slowly and cautiously, as if wary of the night to come. Celeste looked around. By now, her mother would be hunched over the stove and the smell of bacon would be beckoning from the table. But there was no one here. No motherly smells or lighthearted chastisements for wanting to spend the entire day in bed. No walks to the river or tea at Jakob's. This morning there were only more tears to greet her.

After the flight and a three hour drive to the Meadows, she had collapsed in her old bed and cried herself to sleep. Paul had finally left her alone after much unneeded and unwanted doting. Last night was the first time she had ever seen or spoke with a traveler. It was unnerving. Although, she supposed when you got right down to it, she herself was a Traveler of sorts. She had left the village three years ago and had only returned once a year for Christmas. She knew there were others like her. Mostly younger, who expressed their wishes for further education or to roam the world and see what else was out there. Some went, some stayed. That was the way of things everywhere, she supposed.

Still in her clothes from the night before, she pressed her feet to the hardwood floors and shuffled over to the window. Looking down, she could see the street teaming with villagers. Kids, pets, horses, a goat or two; like a giant parade, with everyone headed in the same direction. She moved away from the window when she noticed more and more heads turning to peer into Elsa's window.

A death in the village was known to all who lived there. Usually, no more than a couple of people a year passed away, and in some cases, three or four years could pass without a single mortality. Such was possible when the population was around 2,500. Her mother was active in the church choir and knew more than a quarter of the village. It must have been strange for them to look up and see a figure in her mother's window. After two years with Celeste gone, they probably expected the apartment to be empty.

And just what would happen to the apartment now that Elsa was gone? She would have to ask someone. She didn't know who she could ask. Paul had given her his number in case she needed anything, but the old guy, the way he kept staring at her when he thought she couldn't see him, it was creepy. She moved back to the window, but kept slightly to the left, just out of sight.

She saw one man heading against the crowd. Father Darvey. She smiled. She couldn't help it. He was such a sweet man. And her mother liked him, too. That much was evident. She had wondered sometimes if that was the reason her mom had spent so much time in church activities. She and Darvey were always talking. They always seemed to end up on the same volunteer committees. And Darvey had always treated Celeste like a little niece. She could ask him what would happen to the apartment. Darvey knew half the town. He would know what to do about the apartment. Whether it was paid off or not.

She watched him walk around the corner, heading for the courtyard and the church. Yes, there was the sermon. Fire and brimstone and all that. Always the day before. Always. She would catch him before church started. She had questions about the funeral also. Who was paying? What about the coffin? Did she not have any say in what her mother was buried in? Did her mother have any wishes or a will? She had never asked. She felt like a fool. An uninformed little child. And maybe that was the way she was being taken as a result of her lack of knowledge concerning the ways of the world. Sit back and let the adults take care of the important things little girl. She knew it was not so, but could not shake the feeling. A feeling of helplessness. Of not knowing.

She took a long, hot shower then headed down to the street, moving against the flow of traffic, keeping her head down so as not to attract any condolences. She did not want to break down in tears in front of everyone. She wanted to catch Darvey and prepare for her mother's funeral at 2:00. From there she would leave. Paul had already scheduled her flight out for tonight, just in case she felt like leaving. If not, he would cancel it. He was good for something.