Not a Coincidence

The Turner family sits uncomfortably in their car, following the twists and turns on the old road they’ve found themselves on. The road is like the surface of the moon, filled with jarring potholes. The sun is low in the horizon, causing blinding light to shine straight into the eyes of Mrs and Mr Turner whom occupy the front seats. Mrs. Turner, a women of about 30 with brown hair and deep hazel eyes, clutches onto her husband as they hit yet another enormous pothole. She yelps and her husband suppresses a chuckle.

“It’s fine honey. This road only goes on for about another two miles.”

“Two miles! Are you serious right now? This is the reason I pay taxes!”

“I don’t think fixing a small backroad to a cemetery is their first priority when they receive tax money.”

“Well it should be” huffs the women indignantly.

Meanwhile, the man and womens’ two daughters sit in the backseat watching none other then Curious Goerge, oblivious to the conversation being had by their parents in the front. Just then, the youngest sister, Lizzy, slips off her headphones and looks to her father.

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Now, Lizzy had asked this question roughly 200 times since their departure, but she was very well known for her forgetfulness, so her father turned around and answered patiently.

“We are going to visit Papa’s grave honey.”

“Oh. Ok.” she replies blankly, slipping her headphones back over her ears.

The two Turner girls, ages 4 and 6, had not attended their grandfathers funeral the week prior due to their parents’ wishes. They didn’t feel that they should see their grandpa dead, so they left them with a babysitter. It caused quite the uproar in the Turner family, but they decided it was for the best.

The old jeep finally pulled into the cemetery and the family climbed out, grateful to be alive after that horrible drive. Mrs. Turner’s face had turned a rather ugly shade of green as she tried not to vomit. She didn’t know if vomiting was the most respectful thing to do at a cemetery. She managed to swallow the urge and circled around to the back of the car, grabbing the beautiful bouquet of flowers she had picked out that morning.

“Ready?” she asked the family.

They all nodded and to their surprise, Lizzy pivoted on her heel and started walking confidently down the main path.

“Lizzy wait! You don’t know where you’re going!” yelled her mother.

She didn’t wait.

She didn't even slow down.

She just kept walking.

Her parents looked at eachother and sighed. Her dad grabbed their eldest daughters hand and started speed walking to try to catch up with their other daughter.

When Lizzy reached the first turn that they were supposed to make, her mother called after her.

“Lizzy you’re supposed to…”

But she paused.

She had already turned and started walking down the right path before her mother even opened her mouth.

“Ok that’s weird.” said the dad. “Let’s catch up with her.”

The rest of Lizzy’s family started walking even faster, brinking on a jog.

She could have taken the first right turn as a coincidence. But Lizzy kept going the right way. The cemetery that her grandfather was buried at was the quite the maze, but she was navigating it like she had the path burned into her memory.

“Are you sure we haven’t taken the girls here before?” questioned the women, her voice shaky despite her attempts to hide it.

The man just nods his head, clearly confused.

“I’m sure. Maybe it’s just a coincidence? Maybe she’s had a lot of lucky guesses?”

It was clearly not a coincidence, but the human brain is stubborn by default. It refuses to believe anything that doesn’t fit in it’s very, very, small box of ‘things that make sense to me.’

When the family gets to the last turn, they see their daughter sitting on the newly disturbed dirt by her grandfathers grave. They approach her and her mom crouches down beside her.

“Lizzy honey?”

“Yes?”

“How did you know how to get to your grandpa’s grave?”

“Oh” she smiles. “He brought me here a few days ago.”

She turns back to the grave and proceeds to inform her dead grandpa about her recent barbie debacle.