The Bayou and the Clutter, pt. III/IV

Chapter 3: Grow up.

Ten thousand police officers swarmed over the house, at least that is what it seemed like. Iliana knew what had happened before she even got out of the car. Her father was the proud owner of many guns, and with how unpredictable his temper was, the details of what happened were unclear, but Iliana could see in her mind his body, as if looking at a scarecrow in dense fog. She approached one of the officers, and the air was buzzing with the beating of twenty thousand little wings.

“This is my house. What in God’s name has happened?” She remained calm on the outside, but her stomach twisted and bile threatened to rise into her throat. She felt her ears burning as the answer sunk in; the sounds coming out of his lips didn’t seem to sync up with the movements of them. After he paused, Iliana’s soul re-entered her body and she realized he was waiting for a response.

“I need to see him. Where is he?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but no one can enter the house at this time.”

“That’s my father in there!” Her voice was slowly rising in pitch and volume.

“Ma’am, no one can enter the house.” Iliana took a deep breath and held it in her chest until her head started to spin. Her eyes were now sparkling with the dew of unprocessed emotion. She wheeled around and began to search for the rest of her family as a single tear rolled down her cheek. She wondered why she was crying: over losing her father, or the grief of losing her chance to make amends. The thought that most clouded her mind was that it was her fault. After all the insults and curses he hurled at her, after their last big battle, the house had seemed like a warzone, every word a grenade that each felt they had to throw themselves onto to save the rest of the family from certain death. They were similar in that way, until Iliana decided she would no longer sacrifice herself to protect them. There was no protection from the vitriol he spewed, and she would not become a martyr in vain. Her tears dried up and amid the thousands of bees she finally spotted her family, cast in a sickly blue glow from the patrol car they were standing by.

“Mama, tell me exactly what happened,” she said, her voice barely audible over the commotion in their front yard.

“I don’t want to discuss it right now, Ili.” That familiar response. Iliana knew that that discussion may never happen. Or maybe her mother genuinely didn’t want to discuss it right now. She didn’t know.

“Anna Beth, what happened?” she asked her younger sister. Anna Beth was five years younger than Iliana, at just eighteen years old.

“Mama will tell you later.” This answer frustrated Iliana to no end. What about the unbreakable bond between siblings? She honestly felt a little betrayed. She began to protest, but one look from her mother told her not to continue. Even as an adult, a mother’s glare has power over her child.

And with that, they fell into the loudest silence of their lifetimes.

Chapter 4: From this you can never run.

It wasn’t until after midnight that the scene had been cleared. Exhaustion weighing down their bones, the remaining family went to their respective rooms without having supper or speaking anymore to each other. For the first time in years, Iliana fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. That night she dreamt of her father. She saw him getting out of his truck. He was going to adopt two dogs. They ran to her and jumped up in excitement, scratching her bare legs where her shorts stopped. She looked over at her father and he had a profound sadness in his eyes as he watched them. She felt guilt well up inside her. Over the years they had had many pets, countless cats and innumerable dogs. Each of them had died by this time and it surprised her that he would want to adopt more. When she looked back down at the dogs, their eyes were black holes and blood dripped down their faces. She gasped aloud as she awoke with sweat beads on her forehead.

She sat up and glanced at the alarm clock by her bed. The red digits glowed 5:30. Opening the curtains, she saw that the sun’s first rays were beginning to blink out the stars. She opened the window and listened to the birds chirping. “And there we be,” she said in her grandmother’s voice. She checked the time again. 6:10. Her grandma would be up by now, she thought. She pulled her cell phone off the charger and dialed her grandparents’ home phone. After a few rings, a voice slightly bleary answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Grandma. It’s Iliana. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just watching my exercise show and having some coffee. What are you doing up so early?”

“I had a bad dream and couldn’t get back to sleep. Did Mama tell you what happened last night while I was out?”

“No, she didn’t. Something bad?”

“Roger is dead.”

Grandma Hannah paused.

“Grandma? You still there?”

“Yes, Ili. That’s just a lot to process. I know you must be having a hard time with it. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Iliana talked to her grandmother a little longer. She heard her call Papa to the phone and relay to him what Iliana had told her. There was another pause, and Papa spoke to her softly.

“It’ll be okay, girl. You’ll get through this. Let us know if you need anything.”

They said their goodbyes and I love yous and by the time they hung up it was 8:15.

Iliana sat on the edge of her bed in silence, until there was a gentle knock on the door. She unlocked it and opened it to see her mother.

“Ili, we’re all going to breakfast, you included. Get dressed and I’ll be at the car in twenty minutes.”

Iliana moved with a purpose as she picked out an old dress and hurried through a shower. In record time, she was at the car, her hair pulled into a high ponytail and her black dress rippling around her knees in the light breeze. The weather was clear; it was a beautiful, sunshiny autumn day. In just a few moments her mother and sister joined her, and shortly after they arrived at The Carriagehouse Inn, the finest breakfast establishment in Charleston. Iliana’s appetite was non-existent, so she only ordered grits, but her mother and sister got decadent dishes of cocktail shrimp, mimosas, scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes. They talked and ate, and for the first time in a long time all three of them relaxed in their skins.