Clear the Clouds

“This is an exceptionally stupid idea.”

“All I got out of that were the words ‘exceptional’ and ‘idea’. So thank you, I guess, for the compliment.”

“Your hearing is exceptionally awful.”

“Again, with the compliments! Thank you, Iris. Makin' me blush over here.”

Eva's giggle floats down from her place above me, warming me all the way through despite the cooling temperature outside.

I roll my eyes up to the heavens and fight to keep the smile from forming on my face. The sky is midnight dark with a smattering of twinkling stars. I've never been one to learn constellations, but I think...I think that one right there just north of us is-

“Oh my gosh, the Big Dipper! I knew I picked the perfect spot. I knew it! Didn't I tell you?! I told you, didn't I?”

“Focus, Eva! Otherwise, you’re going to fall and-”

“And land on my head. Yes, yes, I kno-”

“No, I was going to say, ‘and land on me.’ Which arguably would be the more devastating of the two.”

A shocked gasp followed by another fit of giggles.

“Alright, smart ass. Give me a few more minutes, and then you’ll finally understand my vision.”

After what certainly is more than a few minutes, I feel the moonlight wash over my face as Eva hacks off the collection of tree branches blocking our view. Satisfied with her handiwork, Eva scoots down the tree trunk and jumps the last several feet, landing ever so gracefully on her feet - just before losing her balance and falling right on her bum. Instead of getting up, Eva shrugs her shoulders, seemingly to herself, and collapses the rest of the way against the grass. I quickly join her, and we look up at the sky together in amicable silence...Until my racing mind has no choice but to break it.

“Eva, I can’t do this.”

“Iris, yes you can.”

“No, I well and truly cannot. I hate public speaking. You know I freeze every single time.”

“But you have a beautiful way with words.”

“Doesn’t do me too much good if the words never make it out of my mouth.”

“Well, my dear Iris. Then for you I have one simple solution.”

“I’m waiting on baited breath over here.”

“Ever the smart ass! Have I ever led you astray before?”

“Well, there was that one time-”

“Oh, never mind that one time! All that matters is the here and the now.”

She gazes at me sidelong, but I don’t miss the mischievous glimmer that sparks her emerald green eyes to life.

“All you have to do is picture every single person in their underwear.”

I stifle a groan. “And here I thought you were about to say something profound.”

“Listen, I thought we both agreed that you are the brains of this friendship.”

“Very well. So when I imagine everyone in their underwear, do I have permission to also imagine you in your underwear?”

“Hmm, I suppose. But I’m not sure how much imagination that will require, seeing that I will already be sitting in the audience - front row, mind you - in my underwear.”

We lock eyes and, at the same time, break down in a fit of laughter. You know - the best kind. With tears rolling down our faces, squirming around on our backs, uselessly clutching our stomachs to try and stay the pain that can only come from laughing this hard, for this long.

After the laughter ends and our tears dry, we fall into our usual rhythm, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. The hours pass at the speed of shooting stars and, before I know it, the clouds recede as the sun breaks over the horizon. And I’m no longer scared.

I glance over at Eva to say something, but she’s on her side, fast asleep. Warmth radiates from her person as the rising sun basks her in the morning light. I flip over on my side to face her, wondering to myself if there is a more fitting visual to encapsulate my best friend. I drift off to sleep, knowing that there isn’t.

“Iris. Iris? Iris, are you okay?”

I blink and time seems to resume, albeit rather slowly. I will my body to unfreeze. My heart picks up beating as if it, too, were frozen, utterly lost to the memory. Sensation returns to my fingertips. I wiggle my toes around in my beat-up Converse. Everything appears to be in working order, but I can't bring myself to look up, let alone speak. I manage a nervous swallow, clutch the teal and purple ribbon pinned to my t-shirt collar, and finally glance out at the crowd before me. Their grief hangs heavy above their heads; it mirrors the heaviness that hangs above mine. The heaviness that presses down on my shoulders, whispers horrors in my ears, and clamps down like a vise around my lungs until it feels like I'm choking, gasping for air. Something wet hits my cheek, so I look up...but nothing's there. The ceiling is gray and unremarkable, in every sense of the word. Everything is dark, which makes sense, I guess. That's what happens when the light goes out. Tears continue to track down my face as I open my mouth, willing my voice to work despite the weeks of disuse.

“As many of you know, Gemma Wallace wa- is. I'm sorry, is. Gemma Wallace is my best friend.”

I look up from the paper crumpled between my shaking hands, immediately horrified, but I don't find judgment on any of the faces looking back at me. If anything, most manage a small watery smile. Encouragement, I think. Those are the faces of people who want me to keep going. So I do. For Gemma, I do.

“Gemma's smile rivaled the stars. She always reminded me to look up, always wondered why I wasn't as infatuated by the night sky as she was. The thing is, I never had to look for light when she was around. I would simply look at her, and there it was.”

A low rumble of tender amusement sounds around me.

“She is the most beautiful constellation of contradictions. Soft-spoken but with a spirit of steel. Practically-minded but with the heart of a dreamer. Feet on the ground but with her eyes to the sky. I helped tether her, she used to tell me. Without me, she would simply float away.”

A shaky inhale.

“I never remembered dropping her hand…”

I choke back a sob and watch as the crumpled up speech falls uselessly at my feet. It lands with the weight of a boulder crashing down the hillside given how quiet the room has become, given how utterly empty my mind is of thought, save for the one I hadn’t intended to say aloud.

Shit.

I attempt to resume my speech several times until a gentle hand squeezes my shoulder and a soft voice whispers, “It's okay, honey,” as I'm slowly guided off the stage and down the stairs to another set of waiting hands.

Other people speak, but no words register. I catch a set of emerald green eyes staring at me from the front of the room. Everything blurs together with a new onslaught of tears, but not before my gaze falls to the words, “In Loving Memory of Gemma Evangeline ‘Eva’ Wallace.”

Check on your friends. Sometimes the ones who so freely offer their light also struggle to find their way out of the dark. We could all use a reminder to clear the clouds. Everyone deserves to see the stars.