CONFUSED?

     Marcel wasn’t sure if it was such a good idea to have others witness what was happening to her mother, but then again Nate was different. He was her anchor and sanity, her best friend, advisor and counselor. Maybe with his help, they would be able to make her understand the difference between the past and the present, what ‘is’ real and what wasn’t.

  

    So as soon as the call was disconnected, Marcel strode out of the kitchen intending on looking out the front porch windows waiting for her best friend to show up, but much to her surprise… there was her mother, walking around like a mindless zombie gathering several items with a clueless expression plastered across her aged face.

    “Wh… what are you doing? Are those Mike’s clothes? I thought you said you got rid of everything.” The girl anxiously questioned seeing her mother carrying a bunch of familiar objects, piling them up in the middle of the living room.

      However, Ruby turned a deft ear, busying herself with some sort of bizarre preparation. The items were spread out neatly upon the floors as if placed in a circular display with the broken urn at the center of attention.

      “Mom… you need to stop this right now. I know you wanted to honor Mike and wish his soul eternal peace, but you’re really scaring the crap out of me.” Marcel tried pleading with her, even though she hadn’t the faintest idea what the woman was doing, but one thing was for certain… nothing good could possibly come out of this.

     “Then let me honor my son.” Ruby spoke almost in a mechanical tone, reaching for three to four glass contained votive candles that the girl had left behind moments ago, placing them steadily among the remaining visible ashes.

      “No Mom, something doesn’t feel right… this isn’t how the ritual should be done. We’re only supposed to offer Mike one last meal and render sacred prayers on his behalf, the same way our ancestors before us had done. Don’t you remember the stories you told us?” Marcel excitedly ran to her mother’s side hoping to stop her from making an irreversible mistake.

      Unfortunately, the woman seemed to be stuck in a trance or rather overly occupied in her own strange world, refusing to listen while chanting inaudible words that truly make no sense to the helpless girl desperately trying to shake her back to reality.

     “Mom stop this, I’m begging you… please let go… let go of Mike.” Fear was quite evident in her every plea. Not only did she dread the mere thought of watching yet another parent succumb to the unspoken pain of losing a beloved son, but even more so… she was truly terrified of crossing the hidden boundary that separated life from death, especially with the bit of fear feeding on her guilty conscience.

      Thankfully, after several restless minutes nothing out of the ordinary happened… the candles did not magically light themselves, the ashes weren’t caught up in a gust of wind and nor did the remaining items rise above the floors or were angrily tossed about the room by an invisible force.

    Apart from Ruby’s repeated low whispers, there was just pure silence drifting through the air, even the daunting sound of the old wall clock could be heard with each ticking seconds, echoing in Marcel’s mind.

     Although relieved by the lack of supernatural disturbance, the girl’s heart was none the less troubled by the fact that her mother seemed to be trapped in a world of her own. Being led like a puppet, Ruby was escorted towards the nearby sofa, wrapped in the closest blanket within reach.

    “Auggh! Nate what the hell is taking you so long? You should be here by now… I swear to God if you’re driving like a turtle walks, I’ll skin you alive when I get my hands on you.” Marcel nervously rumbled in complain under her breath as she paced the tiny living space, glancing back and forth out the windows and at her mother every minute or so, impatient for her friend’s arrival.

     After some time, the bright reflecting yellow and red headlights flashed through the creases of the curtains signaling that the young man had finally made it to the entrance of her home. However, before the poor guy had a chance to knock or call out to let his presence be made known as he walked up to the front doors, he was basically pulled into the house stumbling to gain his stance.

     “Hey… hey! Take it easy, why are you in such a hurry? Couldn’t you at least let me step in backwards? What if some lonely ghost followed me in hoping to spend the night tormenting my perfect flesh?” Nate joked without paying much attention to the peculiar scene around him.

    Like most of the population in their small town district, he wasn’t one to follow rituals or to be led by superstitious customs, but still chose to respect the family rooted beliefs.

    “This isn’t funny! I really need your help.” Marcel almost instantly voiced out pointing to the direction of her mother, adding “I don’t know what’s happening to her, she’s being acting strange since I got here and I think it’s actually getting worse… like… like with my dad.”

      Seeing the look of anxiousness written on the girl’s face and hearing her cause for concern, Nate quickly adjusted his playful approach, asking in a serious tone as he slowly stepped closer to the woman unceasingly reciting inaudible words. “What exactly happened? I mean… was aunty like this the entire time?”

    “Yes… no… I don’t know… when I came back earlier she was in the kitchen making dinner with the lights barely lit, she kept rambling on about Mike and dad waiting on me to eat as a family, then there was the incident with Mike’s ashes… she kept acting like things were the way it use to be… and when we finally sat at the table, she… she made it sound like she was talking to them… to my dad and Mike.”

    “Hold on, what happened to Mike’s ashes? And where’s your dad? I thought he’s supposed to be at Acre Hills asylum.” The boy asked in confusion, trying to get a bit of an understanding into the matter.

    “I knocked it over by mistake, but that’s not the point. Mom seems to think that he’s still alive… that he’s here with us and dad… well I haven’t  figure that part out as yet either… look, just help me talk to her, maybe you can get her to remember something.”

     Marcel was no doubt filled with just as much bewilderment. One minute her mother was having a conversation with her dead son and absent husband, then the next second she was performing some sort of ritual to honor the departed soul. So which was it? Was she imaging them both being alive or mourning the tragic outcome of their lives?

     “Alright, let me see what I can do.” Nate sat down beside the zoned out woman speaking in a soft tone, reaching for her oddly cold hands. “Aunty Ruby… it’s me Nathaniel, do you know who I am?”

     At first neither one of them actually thought she would respond, but much to their surprise Ruby abruptly stopped chanting and instead firmly stared at Nate with her deep black eyes that somehow grew a shade darker than before, saying with a gentle smile upon her lips. “Of course I know who you are; you’re Mike’s best friend. He talks about you all the time.”

     Listening to her strange words, Marcel was on the verge of screaming in frustration and fright, ‘how the hell could the dead talk!? But with Nate’s reassurance she dejectedly stood aside waiting to see what on earth he had planned.

     “Yes aunty. Mike, Marcel and I were really close friends, especially after my parents died and my grandpa fell ill. All of you have been really good to me; even Uncle Max would treat me like I was a part of this family.” The boy spoke cautiously, easing his way into the conversation.

    “Oh you poor child, you’re always welcome here.” The woman’s voice was laced with pity yet mixed with bitterness the next second. “Mike was right, you’re exactly what his sister needs; she’s so disobedient lately… a kind young man like you will help her to settle down and stop acting so vile and loose.”

     “Wh... what… ummm… Wh… why would he say such a thing?” Caught off guard by the obvious suggestion in the woman’s words, Nate stammered in a chuckling voice like a foolish teenager in love, almost choking on his breath, as he fumbled with his question.

     “Mom that’s enough! Mike has been dead for two months…” The girl eagerly cried out but was instantly interrupted.

     “Marcel! What are you doing here? No! No! No! You can’t be here, this is all wrong; I won’t let you take him away from me. You got to leave, get out! Get out of here!” As if now aware of her daughter’s presence, Ruby’s calm personality yet again shifted as she suddenly started yelling crazily, demanding that the girl leave.

     Was the woman confused and delusional? Or was there something more to it than a simple case of grief?

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