Flora sent me an e-book of some subjects from her new school. Not forgetting, I immediately returned the message with a thank you. I opened one of the e-books and read it; the material there is very complete and profound, in contrast with what I got at my new school.
Behind the toilet door, I could hear someone walking and turning on the water faucet in the sink. By the sound of it, I suspect that it's Tia. Actually, I'm worried about Tia's condition, but I hesitate to ask. She's supposed to be at the fair, but somehow she's just below, which means Tia didn't even come to the fair.
When I came out of the bathroom stall, Tia turned and smiled. Her hair was more neatly arranged and rather wet.
"Alin, I'm sorry to put you out of your way," she said.
I approached her and washed my hands in the sink. "No problem. How's your wound?"
She showed me his right arm with a bandage on it. "Cured."
"Thank god."
"What about your grandmother?"
"Her condition is quite bad."
"I'm so sorry."
"Thank you," I said. "By the way, Mia and Zu were waiting for you at the fair."
"I forgot to tell you that I couldn't make it." The way Tia answered, it was obvious that she was trying to hide something. As if I don't want to question him further. Tia looked down at her head. "Then I'll leave first. I've called my dad to pick me up."
Tia's behavior is very unusual for me. However, since I don't know my classmates well enough myself, this may be how they act. Of course, I still have a lot to do. I still have to learn to understand my new friends, each one of them, and his personality.
*_*
"Put the stuff in the house!"
That's what Mom had done when we got to Grandma's house a few days earlier. While Dad and I only took his orders to bring boxes into the house.
Since I was born, I have never set foot in my grandmother's house. Oma and Opa hate the marriages of my parents and me. To them, I'm just a grandchild they never expected. Even when she lost her baby, she used to curse her not to get pregnant, and whether her prayers were answered by God or something, it was the fact that she had never been pregnant again.
My poor sister was buried in a public cemetery near our old place, and when we moved in, Dad dug up a grave and took my sister's coffin with him. Dad moved it under the cherry tree near Grandma's room. And people think that's what caused my grandmother's disease to get worse. My sister's revenge took over for my grandmother, and she wanted her dead.
It's total bullshit, isn't it?
How could a corpse that had been dry and had been buried for so long in a public cemetery without ever having a problem suddenly turn into a bloodthirsty ghost and want to kill its own grandmother? I just don't get over what people think. Strange and honest thinking is stupid.
Not wanting to make trouble with the neighbors at the same time so that my mother would not be called a delinquent, in the morning Papa and I went to dig up my sister's grave.
"Is this not overkill?" I said that when we got home. "Are we going to get rid of my sister just because she is bad luck? Dad, don't you remember what the priest used to say? No one's jinxing anyone. Everyone carries their own destiny."
He took off his ugly gray jacket and sat on the porch. "Alina, I'm truly sorry, but we have no other choice. It's better now that you're going to school."
"It's too early in the day, Dad. I'm late for school." With feelings still raging, I opened the door and changed into a short shirt and pants on my knees.
Even though my sister and I have never met each other in person because when Mom lost her baby, the baby in her baby was so young, and Dad brought the baby girl home wrapped up, I really love her.
"All right, where shall we move Alana's grave?" I asked as I watched my dad come out of the barn with a hoe.
Dad took a deep breath, and he had changed into gardening clothes. "Do you want to help move Alana's grave?"
"Of course," I replied.
I used to call it Alana. The real name resembles me, simple as that. I always envy my friends who have brothers. They don't have to go out of their homes alone, and they always have a place to tell one another. It's just that my mom has a weak uterus.
Alana died when her limbs were not fully formed. She didn't like to linger in Mama's womb.
"Forgive us, Alana!" That's what Dad said when we got to Alana's grave. There were no mounds of dirt, only small stones without names that were markers. A stone that was almost every morning wet because Mom had water all the time. "We were forced to do this."
I don't know what Alana would say if she talked. Is he going to cry? Does that make you angry?
After praying for Alana, we just dug her grave. It turned out that the ceramic coffin was still good, just as we had buried it a week ago. Afterward, we took her into the woods to a public cemetery some distance from the village and buried Alana near Dad's ancestral grave.
The plan was that Dad was going to make a decent marker for Alana. We would set up a ceramic tombstone and adorn it with beautiful flowers if Oma had come home from the hospital. This time I only sprinkled Alana's grave with roses laced with perfumed oil.
"Dad's so sorry, Alana." Dad wiped his tears away. He took a bottle of mineral water and poured it into a medium-sized rock that marked Alana's grave. Papa rubbed the rock gently as if he were stroking Alana's little face. "Our ancestors will watch over you, honey." Then your dad and your sister go home first. Come on, Lin!"
I shake my head. "I still want to be here, Dad."
"All right, then I'll go home first. Can you walk home?"
"Yes, Dad."
There are too many stories I want to share with Alana, and this is why we chose to bury her near the house. The public cemetery near our old house is very close. I've just been across the street. So every morning, mom and I would take time to visit Alana's grave before opening a shop. But now?
"Isn't this unfair, Alana? We are forced to rid ourselves of our old lives for a grandmother who never once thought of us as her grandchildren." I sat next to the grave, and I played with the flowers I had previously sown on Alana's grave. "I wish you were still there."
*_*
Where are you, Alina? Why aren't you home?
The message mom sent me half an hour ago didn't get a reply. My mind is scrambled. I was still sitting next to my dear sister's grave, looking down the hill.
The sun is heading west, and the light is warm. Apparently, in the future, a public funeral would be a nice place for me to be alone. Not many people visit funerals—not even one person. A man who came on his bicycle headed for the big gravestone in the middle of the burial complex.
He spent quite some time at the funeral, doing prayers and making sacrifices. Who then just waved at me. At first, I was confused, but soon I realized that the man was Leon.
I waved back.
"What are you doing here?" He yelled at me, then walked over with a big step. "Hey, who just got buried?" Leon asked again when he saw Alana's new funeral.
I answered, "This is my sister's grave."
"Oh, when did she die? Why aren't there any announcements of people dying at the village hall?" He looked very worried.
"She died long ago."
Then let me explain what my family has been going through to him.
"This is the village. Many are still superstitious." Leon was sitting right next to me. "You'd be surprised if they still feared the bodies and refused to bring the bodies from the accident to be buried in the village."
"What?"
Leon continues: "There was a time when Aman died in a plane crash, and when the government brought him here, everyone refused and asked him to be buried outside the funeral."
"Where was he then buried?"
"The man's family threatened their family in the woods. No markers and no sacrifices at all It was as though they had never thought of it again."
"Isn't that too much?"
Leon nodded with a look of regret. "It's not easy to change people's views, Alina. But I pray for everyone in this village. May they be more open and happy."
"By the way, you're ditching again?"
My fast-moving question made Leon laugh. "You're also ditching yourself, aren't you?"
"But it's still different."
"What's different?"
"All right, let's play hooky." I stand up, and I clean the dirt off my ass. "I'm going home; do you still want to be here?"
"Of course I'm going home too." Leon walked beside me, and we cautiously passed through the cemetery. "Want me to get a ride?"
"No. Thank you."
"Well, then I'll walk with you." He pushed his bike down the hill. It seems he chose to walk beside me. "Oh yes, look at the red sky." He's pointing to the western horizon.
The sun was about to go down, and its light so beautifully brightened the forest's foliage.
"Like a painting," I said.
"You're right."
"I wish my sketching equipment had left me," I mumbled.
"Do you like to paint?" Leon was a little surprised and didn't believe her. "You can buy some art supplies at the store near the hospital. I can take you if you want."
"Really?"
Leon nodded confidently. "If I'm lying, you can cut off my ear."