“How did the song go again?” Celeste asked.
The sun was beginning to peak in the sky. Warmth pulsed through my body as I relaxed under the shade of a tree behind us. Our bed was the grass below us as we gazed at the clouds. Flower petals danced in the air in front of us, as if they were at a party full of laughter and life. Whispering from the wind was above us.
“I can’t even remember what the song sounded like,” I admitted. “All I know is that my dad taught me it. Didn’t it start with ‘Mama?’”
“I think so. I don’t even remember how you could sing that song so well!”
“It might be in the family.”
“I can still remember when you first performed that song in front of the entire school.”
“Don’t bring that up,” I said teasingly.
“I guess that our journey has just drained our brains of any function.”
“What about your parents? Do they still remember you?”
All fell silent. Nature was holding its breath, as if it just realized that she had come back from death.
The wind began to whistle again.
Then the leaves continued gossiping.
Then the dancing flowers resumed.
She looked at me earnestly.
“I don’t know, John,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I haven’t seen them since I came back with you. I can’t even sense their presence in this world.”
She burst into tears and collapsed on my lap. All I could do to help her was to just caress her head. To just pull her up to give her a hug. To just lie down and sob with her.
To remember that this isn’t over yet.
