Lonely
Aunt Frances appeared to retreat deep into the couch, the TV providing the only light in the room. Opal sighed. She put her hand on Aunt Frances’ arm. But Aunt Frances kept her eyes on the TV. Blank eyes. They were not really looking at anything. Or maybe, Opal thought, they were looking inside instead of out.
It used to be that Aunt Frances’ spells only lasted a day or so and then she would be back to her old self—wanting to plan hikes and camp outs and movie dates. But lately, the spells lasted longer than her good days, and Opal had taken on the duties of housecleaning, answering the phone, and cooking dinner.
And so Opal finally said out loud what she had been thinking for days: “It’s not fair.”
She waited for Aunt Frances to offer one of her sayings such as, “Whoever said life was fair?” Or “Complaining is easy. Work is hard.” But Aunt Frances only stared ahead, as if no thoughts occurred to her now or ever.
Opal pushed further and said, “You’re supposed to be my guardian, and you’re not doing a very good job.”
Aunt Frances turned her gaze to Opal; and in that instant, Opal could see right inside Aunt Frances to a place that was cold and lonely and scary. Opal, unprepared for that sight, gasped a little. This was not the first time Opal had seen inside another person. Opal had a gift that way. But all the times before, she had seen inside strangers. This was different. This was Aunt Frances.
An icy wind blew from behind Auntie Fran’s eyes and out into the room. Opal shivered.
Opal felt exactly how Aunt Frances felt, and she did not like it one bit.
“You must be so cold!” Opal said.
Opal did not know how to fix Aunt Frances, but she did know how to warm her up. Opal put another log on the fire. She tucked the afghan tighter around Aunt Frances, and then she curled up next to her. For now, that would have to do.
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I like these Opal stories; you create a nice intimacy in them.
Guri Jan 4, 16:28