Mosaic Spring 2016 | Page 60

Not Again by Michaela Fisher 58 Her green eyes lingered a moment on the grave, and then moved beyond it to her other three incidents. The oldest was indistinguishable, with a young sapling growing where soil had once been overturned. The other two were still healing, grass beginning to fill in and dandelions emerging in clusters. She checked her watch and sighed. “Sammy, I’ve got to go, Kate will be home any minute. Sorry again, okay?” Piper said as she rose to her feet. She felt guilt begin to tug at her sides, but she reasoned that at least Sammy wouldn’t be alone out here in her secret place. Wiping a line of sweat from her brow, she stashed the spade in her jacket pocket and looked out across the glade. She was almost certain she could hear the distant grumbling of her girlfriend’s truck approaching. Piper picked up a brisk jog, quickly covering the space across the glade and merging into the forest. She bushwhacked back to the house, her fair hair waving behind her as she took care to not leave evidence of her journey. She slowed down as the forest thinned and the house came into view. She could see Kate’s worn pickup truck just coming to a halt in the driveway next to her own yellow punch-buggie. For a moment Piper felt a tug of concern, and wondered if cat hair stuck to rubber. Probably not, she reasoned, and walked over to greet her girlfriend. Pink Hibiscus by Seth McBride “…And may Sammy rest in peace in kitty heaven, and have all the mice and milk to eat that he ever wants,” Piper said with clasped hands. That sounded a bit weird, the woman thought as she rose from her bowed position to rock back onto her knees. She didn’t pray often, though, and hadn’t been to church since she was little, so she reasoned that’s why the words had sounded odd leaving her mouth. Overhead the day was serene, not a cloud to mar the uniform periwinkle sky. Piper could hear birds gossiping in nearby trees, and the squirrels chattering away with their harmless arguments. The woman sat in a nearopen glade, surrounded by a lush forest that hummed with life. In front of her was an impressively large oak tree, and beneath it, freshly disturbed soil. Piper flexed her wrist, which had become sore from the digging. Her girlfriend’s little garden spade had not been the ideal equipment for digging such an ambitious hole. Dirt stained her hands, and little particles of soil clung underneath her mismatched painted nails like unwanted guests. She even had a bit of a blister forming on her palm, evidence of an unworked hand suddenly being forced into labor. You’d think one of these times I’d remember some gardening gloves. “I’m real sorry about this, Sammy,” Piper said, addressing the cat now. “It wasn’t your time, and you were taken from the world too soon. I’m going to miss you,” Piper said, remembering the tom’s soft orange fur and his rumbling purr. She had never been much for cats, and being allergic did not help. Still, Piper had liked Sammy well enough. “Oh, and Kate will miss you too of course. I’m sorry you won’t be able to see her again. She loved you, you know? She really did,” Piper continued, wringing her hands as she knelt beside the grave.