24 Years Without You

It had been twenty-four years since she had last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same. Neat flower beds lined the sidewalk and that blasted ginkgo tree was still dropping a thick blanket of leaves over half the lawn. Her heels clicked softly on the brick walk, and the front steps still creaked like they were threatening to fall apart.

Once inside, the illusion that nothing had changed was torn away. The house was known for always having something going on was now silent. No dogs were scrambling after a thrown tennis ball, no children laughing and screaming at the dog’s antics before chasing them down and wresting the ball away to repeat the process over again, but most devastating was the lack of the deep voice from the den reminding the kids to be careful and that dinner was going to be ready soon.

Passing quickly through the house, she went out the back door to where her old car was parked, miraculously back in pristine condition. Walking by it, she rounded the corner of the house to the shed where their old bikes used to sit, mostly unused except for the occasional weekend ride. Thankfully it wasn’t locked and balancing carefully she began to pedal down the street.

They’d warned her it was a hard ride, and she certainly wasn’t dressed for exercise in heels and a skirt, but stepping foot in that car was out of the question. Panting as she crested the final hill, the large wrought iron gates finally came into view. Coasting the final way, she passed under the arch reading Green-Wood Cemetery before getting off the bike and fixing her hair. First impressions, or in this case final impressions, were important.

She found the headstone in the back right corner of the cemetery, like they said. A small bouquet of flowers rested against the stone and for a brief moment she wondered who’d brought them by. One of the kids, perhaps.

Running her fingers over the inscription, she couldn’t suppress the sob that escaped. They were words she picked out but seeing them craved in stone held a different sense of finality about them.

Matthew Edward Mintly

A Loving Husband and a Better Father, Taken Too Soon

1970-1996

How long she stayed there, she couldn’t tell but by the time she pulled herself away the sun was beginning to set. Slowly she stood and with final look back, whispered “I should have let you drive” before turning and walking out of the cemetery. Her bike was where she left it and she slowly pedaled back to the house, returning the bike to the shed. She must have overgone her time by now but couldn’t bring herself to leave quite yet, instead sitting on the living room sofa and letting the memories roll over her like crashing waves. The first night they’d brought their eldest daughter home, when the twins watched wrestle mania and then accidently broke an arm trying to pile drive each other. She smiled for a moment at the memory of her boys when they were young. All her kids were grown now but in her mind, all she could see was chubby toddler faces and sticky jam covered hands, not the sleek beards and wedding bands they now sported. 

A red light flashed over her vision, startling her from her stupor. The blinking lights condensed into letters that hovered over her living room floor: LOW POWER.

“Katerina, we’re going to pull you out now” a voice spoke in her ear before the horrible sensation of being your mind being pushed from your body shuddered through her, forcing away the vision of the house. 

Blinking, Katerina once again felt the familiar cool of the wheelchair below her and the total darkness wrapped around her. Amilie bustled around her removing sensors and disconnecting the headset, presumably to place it on its charging port.

“How was the transition, Katy? Dr Simmons said they’re still working out a few kinks in the process, are you nauseous?” The nurse asked sweetly and Katerina could imagine her nose scrunching in concern as she spoke. Despite never seeing her face, the expression just felt right for the gentle nurse.

“I’m fine, Amilie, it’s a little unexpected is all but I’ll be fine in a moment. You should have seen it, Amilie! The house was just the same, even down to that damn tree I spent weeks raking all the leaves up from. And in the back” she grew quiet trailing off as Amilie finished disconnecting the equipment and rolled her smoothly from the room.

“I’d never seen his grave before” She whispered finally, “It was nicer than I expected. Mum picked out the headstone since I couldn’t and she did a real nice job on it” She wasn’t sure if Amilie was even listening until a hand squeezed her shoulder comfortingly for a moment. They returned the lobby where her Sam was waiting for them, she could hear his foot tapping from down the hall, a nervous habit he’d gotten from his father. 

Amilie exchanges pleasantries, before launching into an interrogation about his new girlfriend. Katerina listened with half an ear, too tired and distracted form the day to pay full attention, even to the growing discomfort in her son’s voice when Amilie asked when he was planning to propose. For twenty-four years now, she’d heard the whispers and quickly cut off conversations labeling her as widowed, disabled, blinded, and the more hurtful ones, filled with speculations over the accident and using her as a cautionary tale to scare their children with. In a small town, gossip flies with the wind and some people weren’t willing to believe the accident was just that – an accident. But those words couldn’t touch her anymore, at least not today.

Yes Mrs. Katerina Mintly was known in town as the blind widow, but today she was the blind widow who was able to see her husband, and that was all that mattered