Mara Roams by Aedon Young

Author:Aedon Young
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publish on Demand Global LLC

Chapter Fourteen

Dru pulled up beside the gates of Shadows’ End Cemetery. Two enormous weeping willows at the entrance swayed delicately in the soft breeze like whispering giants. Since dropping off Mara, Dru had found himself driving in the direction of the cemetery. He did not know why.

Dru stepped out of his car and pulled the silk scarf tighter around his neck, although the afternoon was still warm. The only funeral he had ever attended was that of Literati and Mr. Yestin, and they had been cremated. Dru had never been inside the cemetery before. Some people, with whom he no longer socialised, used to come here to get drunk and make out. He supposed they felt particularly rebellious doing so while treading on the dead.

As he walked past groomed lawns and natural-looking plantings, Dru felt tranquil. Eventually, the gravel path brought him to a bench across from a gnarled oak tree. Dru sat. Afternoon had drifted into twilight. Dru looked to the tree.

“What are you doing here?” whispered Dru, glancing over both shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” rebutted Literati, cheekily.

Literati was sitting on a branch with his knees up and his back toward the substantial trunk. He wore clean jeans, high-top sneakers, and a grey sweater. He appeared, as always, effortlessly casual.

“I guess I needed to talk to you,” explained Dru.

“That's why I'm here,” replied Literati.

“This is a peculiar location, though. You aren't buried here.”

“You couldn't very well go sneaking into my mother's bedroom to visit my ashes,” laughed Literati. “I suppose this is the place where you anticipated finding me.” Literati paused while Dru processed this information and then asked, “What's on your mind?”

“I am so sorry,” said Dru.

“I know,” said Literati, genially. “Is that all?”

“You don't understand. I need you to forgive me,” pleaded Dru.

Literati responded, “You know I can't do that.” Dru looked down at the gravel path. Literati continued, “You know I can't do that until you forgive yourself.”

Dru glanced back up to the oak tree, but Literati was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Dru walked into his house. He tiptoed quietly into the kitchen so as not to startle Aurelia with his approach. The kitchen, which should have been bright and inviting, was rather sombre and grey. It was long and narrow and without windows. Refrigerator, stove, and sink were all on one side. At the very end of the galley were a small, wooden table and one chair. Two other folding chairs stood propped against the wall. Crammed in the corner was a rocking chair, underneath which was a basket of embroidery needles, thread, and other sewing notions.

“Hello, Mother.”

“I made some soup. Will you have some?” she asked meekly, rising from the rocking chair.

Dru was not the least bit hungry, but he said, “Of course, Mother,” and sat down at the table after washing his hands. Aurelia served him a bowl of vegetable barley soup.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“You are a good boy, Ignition,” she said, kissing him on the head before retreating to her rocking chair. Dru

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