I grabbed my chest, “Oh my goodness, I didn’t hear you walk in. Elizabeth, how are you?”
She looked annoyed. “I don’t like that place.” She pointed to the gallery.
“Why? They put pretty art in there. You could go look at artwork when you don’t have anything to do.”
“I don’t like their stuff. It’s ugly.” She turned and walked toward the front of the house. She headed toward the living room, and I sat on the sofa as I was sure that is what she intended. “I’m sorry I couldn’t play last night. He was here.” She pointed again with disgust at the gallery.
“It’s ok, I came back.” I smiled wide.
“You did.” She paced the small room, stopping to look out the windows.
“I found out a little about your mother,” My words were barely above a whisper.
She turned towards me, then gazed back out the window.
“Took a long time to find out about us, didn’t it?” She didn’t look back.
“Yes, it did. I thought you lived in the house for many more years than you did. That is why I had a hard time finding the right family.”
She turned toward us. “No one remembers them. No one but me.”
I staired at the little girl. How sad she must be. “I know now. It isn’t remembering, but I will keep your story.”
She shook her head, “You don’t know the whole story.”
She never needed anyone to find out what happened, she needed someone to hear the story so it wouldn’t be lost. So, she wouldn’t be lost forever. “Tell me. Tell me about your family.”
Today, Elizabeth didn’t feel like just a four-year-old girl. Today, she felt like a much more mature person, in a tiny toddler sized bottle.
“We were just fine with Aunt Rose and Grandma Mertie. We didn’t need to ride the train forever to get here. We should have stayed.”
I waited for her to continue.
“Daddy wanted to go, so we did. Aunt Rose said we should stay but Mama said, ‘I go where he goes.’
We had to leave some of my dolls to make room for everything else. I didn’t like it here. I cried and cried, but mama said we would get used to it. She said my brother would like it. I said, I don’t want a brother.
Then daddy left for work one day. I was mad, I was sick of this place and wanted to go home. Mama said this is home.
I went upstairs and put my stuff in my trunk. I would go home without her. I tried to carry my trunk but couldn’t. That made me more mad.
Mama came upstairs and told me to stop sassy talk. She said I had to be a good girl. I didn’t want to be a good girl. I wanted to go home! She went down the stairs and I ran after her. I was so mad, I wanted to just go home.
She fell, and then she was sleeping. I cried and cried. I told her I was sorry, I told her I would be a good girl. I told her I would stay if she would please wake up.
Daddy came home. He was so sad. He said she wouldn’t wake up. He said she would sleep forever now. And so would baby.
I didn’t feel good after that. I was so hot. And then I went to sleep to, but I didn’t see mama there. Daddy left; he was sad. I waited for mama to come, because I was sleeping too, and I came back here.” Elizabeth turned toward the stairs, “She never came back here. I don’t know where she is. She said this was home.”
Tears were rolling down my face. What a tragic story for the little girl. Subconsciously, she blamed herself for her mother’s death. “I am so sorry Elizabeth; I don’t know why she didn’t come back.”
I stood, and walked closer to her, breathing intentionally, and focusing on staying grounded. “I think she may have moved on.”
“Where?”
“Just on, Elizabeth. Maybe there has been a light, or a door or something that you haven’t gone towards?” I completely was pulling ideas from books and movies. I had no idea what the ‘other side’ would look like.
She shook her head, “No, that is not it.”
“I am sorry.”
She shook her head. “And no one knows about us.”
“I know about you.”
“Yeah but who are you going to tell?” she tilted her head towards me.
“I can make sure your story is remembered. Would that help?”
She nodded. “Yes. People need to know about mama and daddy and baby and Aunt Rose and Grandma Mertie.”
“I will do that.”
“Promise?”
I thought about who I would tell the story too, and how. I didn’t like to lie, and honestly, I tried hard not to, but in this instance, I figured I would try to keep my word and that would have to do. “I promise.”
“Ok.” Elizabeth looked more relaxed more childlike again, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for telling me.” I stood up, “I have to get to class now, but thank you again for trusting me.”
Elizabeth beamed, “You are welcome.”
I walked to class processing another story of tragic ending. So much time had passed, and she had waited.
Class came and went, and I was thrilled that I killed my big exam. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I expected it to be.
That weekend, Tyler’s parents came down for a game. I was so nervous to meet them. All I could think of was they would know I had sex with their son. It would be somehow written on my forehead, glowing like ink under a black light.
Tyler kissed my cheek, “Do you have any idea how much I love you? I don’t care if
