Where the waves sing

Sarika hurried through the streets of New Orleans to the old abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.

She kept her head down, her face covered by her dark hair and the black hood of her hoodie. She passed closed stores and all-night diners where jazz bands played their bright spunky music. 

The milky light of the full moon illuminated the path behind the factory that led to a cemetery. Her watch vibrated.

3 o’clock.

She picked up her pace and slipped through the familiar hole in the mesh fence. She approached the headstone in the shadow of the yet-to-bloom almond tree. The lilies she had planted years ago glowed a gorgeous ivory in the moonlight. The handmade wind chimes tinkled a melody in their silvery voice.

Placing a candle on the grave, Sarika sat down in front of it. Someone, Mrs.Lauren no doubt, had placed a tango rose on the grave.

Tango roses were Maya’s favourite.

Sarika lit the candle and placed her bouquet of wildflowers on the grave. She unpacked her violin from its case and positioned her bow over it. Steadying her breathing, she drew out a long mournful note. Her hand moved the bow to play a familiar tune with its melancholy yet hopeful notes.

Past the sea of the Neitherworld,

There it lies, island of past,

Where loved ones, long gone now,

Sleep in slumber  forevermore,

She sang into the cool night air, scented with the smell of vanilla and coffee. 

There he is, in my dreams,

Robed in black with flowers white,

A God to those in pain is death,

Don’t be scared, my dear friend,

For Death is never truly the end,

We’ll see each other once again,

Together we’ll walk on the beach,

Where the waves will sing for us,

Let me go,my last journey,

Don’t be scared, for life’s of beauty,

So let me go, to the island,

Where the waves will sing for me,

Our love will never go,

Not by time and not by waves,

So my friend, till the isle,

We shall meet in the Neitherworld

Her song came to an end as an almond blossom fell on Maya’s grave. It was a creamy white and its petals as delicate as spider’s silk. Had the tree bloomed? She glanced at the tree to see that a few of the tightly coiled buds had indeed bloomed. How fitting it was, considering what she was about to say to the dead girl.

Placing her violin down, Sarika started fiddling with her hands.

“I’m going to college,” she said. 

No answer. Not that she was expecting one.

“I got into Harvard. I’m going to be attending a course for anthropology and evolution biology.”

A long awkward silence.

“I won’t be able to see you every month anymore , but I will come back next year, and the year after that,” she said, her cheeks wet. “I’ll come back once every year, so don’t you dare think that I’ve forgotten you!”

The lilies danced faster as the wind grew stronger.

“Do you remember that song? You wrote it on Friendship day for me when we were 10,” she whispered. “I never forgot it, and I’ll never forget you.”

How could she forget her best friend, the person who taught her how to make light in the darkness?

“You see Sarika,” Maya had once said. “I like to think that there are flowers in my lungs. Big beautiful ones, the kind fairies live in. I’m their protector, and I’m ready to pass on because life has given me a purpose.”

Maya was always dreamy and obsessed with creatures of magic. Extremely.

She could also tell the most fantastical stories that enthralled Sarika.

“I think that the place they live in is somewhere between Life and Death,” she said.

“So it’s in neither world?” Sarika asked.

“Yes,” Maya had replied. “In neither world, but in the Neitherworld.”

“How do we get there?”

“When we pass through life to death and through dreams,” she finally said after a while. “That’s where we’ll meet when I die.”

Maya had come to terms with the fact rather quickly. Even at ten years old, she chose to see the brighter side of things. “After all, she had said cheerfully as she lay on a hospital bed, bald-headed and surrounded by machines. “Death will take my pain away, and I’ll ask him to take me to the Neitherworld. We can meet there every night and go on adventures.”

At 14, when Sarika went to see Maya as she breathed for her last few hours, they hadn’t mourned.

“We’ll still be best friends, right?”she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Of course,” Sarika said, clutching her hand. “In the Neitherworld, we’ll see each other again, won’t we?”

The girl on the bed smiled. “Promise me one thing, won’t you? Don’t be sad and stop living life after I’m gone. Enjoy its beauty while you have it.”

Sarika nodded. They stayed in comfortable silence until the monster called cancer finally finished the bridge for Death to take her to the island.

“People say I’m crazy. That I haven't gotten over my grief. That you’re dead, and I’ll never see you again!” She half-laughed and half-cried hysterically.

Only the flowers, moon and stars heard her. She breathed deeply until the coils of thought in her head unravelled neatly.

“But you are,” she said more quietly. “You are, and I’m sad. Not only because you’re gone, but because I haven't lived for the four years you were gone.I didn’t keep my promise, did I? But now, I will, not only for the promise, but because I want to. I’ve. . . moved on. And I’m happy.”

She wiped her tears once more. “I’ll Live, not live, but Live with a capital L. I’ll Live until we meet once again. Goodbye, Maya Ruby Lauren. I’ll never truly forget you.”

With that, Sarika left with her violin as she raced back home as dawn woke, so her mother wouldn’t discover her night venture. 

She could and would stop pretending her best friend was still alive. That everything was ok. That they were still ten year olds hunting for fairies in the garden.She would stop going to her grave every month.

She would Live until the day they walked hand-in-hand on the beach where the waves sing.