Rain poured down, soaking me to the core. The dirt became muddy, and difficult to dig a deep hole. The wind howled through the trees and froze my entire body through the wet and muddy clothes. I stopped having any feeling in my body by the time I dug half a foot deep.

I hated when it stormed. Bad things always happened to me. It was like a constant omen that followed me. No amount of effort could force it away.

Thunder cracked across the sky. I looked up at the flash of light. I hate storms, but Mabel loved them. She used to tell me the rain was Mother Nature’s way of washing away her worries, which is why she enjoyed dancing in the rain. There was nothing to wash away anymore. All her worries dissipated the moment she took her last breath.

I looked at Mabel’s body that is eye level to me as I stood in what was to be her grave. I wrapped her in light blue sheets. I used twine to keep her limbs in place. The sheets are as soaked as I am.

The grave was over four feet, that should be deep enough.

I grabbed the twine wrapped around her arms and legs and pulled her into the grave with a loud grunt. Even at 110 pounds, she is still heavy. I fell backward with her body at the sudden loss of weight as she fell. She made a thump, splattering more mud over my clothes and face.

I grabbed the edge of the grave and made a hole in the side for my foot so I could climb out. The ground surrounding the grave was difficult to get a hold of to pull myself out. But managing to get a grip, I pushed off the ground and tried to throw my other leg over the edge. My hands slid through the mud, and I fell backward, landing next to Mabel.

Pain radiated across my back. With a groan, I crawled to the corner of the grave. I sat against the side, staring at Mabel’s wrapped body pressing against my leg. My breathing was deep as exertion kicked in.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. I should be studying for finals. Mabel should be distracting me by walking around the house. I loved watching her burn sage, mutter chants to herself, and light the candles that sit around any space available. If it wasn’t candles, it was a cluster of crystals. She loved her crystals.

Mabel saved my life seven years ago. If it weren’t for her, I’d still be living in the streets or dead right now. The night she found me was similar to tonight.

***

It had been storming for a week straight. The streets flooded. The temperature continued to drop every day it rained. I was sitting on the steps in front of an abandoned building. I was bundled in the blanket I took with me, trying to stay warm, but I continued to shiver nonstop. This was better than going back home.

Cars drove by. A few insane people braved the storm and rushed past. I watched them go as I stayed in my spot. The storm would pass; it had to.

“What on Earth are you doing out here, child?”

I glanced over at the sound of someone talking. An elderly lady with silver hair stared at me from her oversized umbrella. She had a few wrinkles and radiated wisdom and love. “Do I know you?” My throat was dry and made my voice raspy. I hadn’t talked to anyone since I left home.

“Do we need to know each other for me to ask why you, a child, are sitting out in the cold in the middle of a storm?”

“Well, no-”

“You look like death.” She stated. “Come on, come with me. I just bought wood for a fire.”

“But I don’t know you.”

“And?” she prompted as she waited patiently for me to get up and walk down the steps to her. “For all you know, I’m some crazy lady, I get that, but I’m an old lady who lives alone and keeps to myself. What are you? Sixteen? Seventeen? For all I know, you’re some teenager waiting to rob the first person who tries to help you. But from what I see, you’re alone, cold, and there’s nowhere to go. So, are you coming or not? I have a couch in front of the fireplace, tea, and hot chocolate. There’s also soup cooking at home.”

What did I have to lose? My parents were religious extremists, my little brother was dead, and I was alone, cold, and hadn’t eaten in three days.

I got up and followed this lady for close to an hour. We veered off the sidewalk and walked a mile into the woods. Just as I was getting nervous, we entered a clearing with a small wooden house.

The house sat at the edge of the clearing on the opposite side of us. It had a covered porch with a rocking chair and two bay windows on either side of the door. On the right side was a fenced-in garden patch. All kinds of flowers surrounded the front of the house, and a smaller flower garden sat next to the garden patch.

“A bee garden.” She said, noticing my stare. “If they die, the rest of the species on Earth will follow. The storm blew down my cover for my woodpile,” she said, motioning towards a metal awning that was knocked over to the left of the house. The chopped wood sat in the rain. “We have enough to last us until the pile dries out. Seems the storm is passing.”

Only then, as we walked inside the house, did I realized the rain had slowed to nothing but a drizzle.

“Here you go, darling.”

I took the steaming cup of hot chocolate. I sat in front of the fire with a fresh blanket wrapped around me. Shelves lined the walls on either side of the fireplace. The shelves were covered with old-looking books, crystals, and half burned candles. The room glowed with natural light and reflected off the hundreds of crystals. Glass jars filled with weird looking plants lined a smaller shelf behind the sofa. This house felt like a home. It felt safe.

“Thank you.”

“If you change your mind about the tea, I dried fresh herbs to make any kind of tea you want.” The strange lady sat in a rocking chair across from me with her cup of tea. “My name’s Mabel.”

I stayed silent for a moment as I thought about what to tell her. “Mary.”

“Mary,” she repeated.

“But I’m changing it soon. To Isa.”

She smiled, “That’s a beautiful name, Isa. My name wasn’t always Mabel. My parents named me something different.” She was silent as she drank more of her tea, “You want to tell me what a young girl like you is doing out in the rain by herself?”

I studied her. She was calm, and her question seemed sincere, not judgmental. “Do I have to?”

She shrugged. “No. But I think it’s only fair to know what trouble you might bring since I’ve invited you here.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You’re right.” Mabel said nothing more. She continued to watch me and sip her tea.

“No one’s looking for me. You won’t be charged with kidnapping or aiding and abetting if that’s what you’re thinking. I turn seventeen in three weeks, and I’ll be allowed to live on my own legally.”

“And your parents?”

“I want nothing to do with them.”

“Why? Teenage rebellion?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about them, about what they did. How I endured years of pain as they tried to dispel the sins from my soul. Or about the scars on my back from the lashings as they attempted to repent my sins for me. And I didn’t want to think about how they went too far with my little brother and killed him. I should’ve stopped them. I should’ve run away with him a long time ago. Now it was too late. I failed him.

“You can’t move on with your life if you’re stuck in the past. Talking about it and accepting it for what it is is the only way to move forward. There’s always going to be hard moments in life for us to learn from and the move on.”

“Are you some kind of therapist or something?” I asked.

She laughed. She had a melodic laugh, one that I would come to love over the years. “You couldn’t pay me enough to listen to what people think are the worst problems of their lives. Your spouse is cheating? Leave them. Your children are walking all over you? Stop spoiling them and put your foot down. No, I couldn’t get paid enough to listen to sob stories eight hours a day.”

She tilted her head as she looked at me again, “You, on the other hand, you have a trauma that’s affecting you deep down in your soul. You don’t have to tell me.” She got up and started blowing out the dozens of lit candles she had around the room. “Get some rest. We will talk more tomorrow.”

***

I was right about my parents not looking for me. I was as dead to them as my little brother.

Mabel took me in and didn’t think twice. She made me stay in school. Mabel never judged any of my choices, and she supported me. When I told her I wanted to be a pharmacist, she helped me find a job that helped pay for my schooling and work with my class schedule.

She taught me a lot of things too. Most important was how to accept the things I went through and not let the weight of it follow me for the rest of my life. Now, as I stared at her dead body, I realized she was teaching me my greatest lesson of all; how to live without her.

She wasn’t supposed to die. Last night, she had made soup in preparation for the storm that was coming. She told me to stop procrastinating my studying because she expected to watch me graduate after next semester. We sat in front of the fire before bed like we always did; her with tea and me with hot chocolate. We laughed.

This morning she wouldn’t wake up. The only person I had left was gone, just like that.

The coroner and police came. I stopped them when they tried to take her body. Mabel had a will that she kept in her closet. I never read it until this morning. In it, she made it clear that her body was not to be examined. She wanted to be buried on her property with roses planted over her. She used to tell me she wanted a rose garden, and one day she would grow one. I never imagined she would have one over her grave. Even in death, she is still a demanding old lady.

Thunder crashed, and lightning stuck, bringing me back to reality. The storm was raging on, and I am still cold and wet. Getting to my feet, I tried to pull myself out of the grave. This time I was successful. I began shoveling on top of Mabel.

As Mabel’s body disappeared under the mud, I happily let the rain pour down on me as it washed the mud off me. I imagined the rain washing away my worries on how I’d continue without her. Just as Mabel would want it.

Photo by Noah Silliman on Unsplash