Lifeless Memory~Niki Belle

Lifeless Memory


We pulled into the parking lot of Tropical Smoothie about fifteen minutes later. Ali stepped out of the car just as I shut my door. We walked in and ordered our smoothies. We sat down in one of the corner booths away from all the noise and chatter of the main tables. As we sat down, I could tell something wasn’t quite right with Ali.
“What’s up, girl?” I couldn’t think of what else to say. “You okay?” Not the best choice of questions, but it would have to do. She looked up at me. She had gone off in her own world for a minute. Somehow, she heard my question clearly.
“I just miss Milly, I guess. How’s Tod doin?” She said, changing the subject.
“He’ll be fine. He won’t be the same…but he’ll pull through.” I directed the question back at her. “I’m worried about you, though.” She turned to look over her shoulder. I followed her gaze and saw a small, fragile looking girl carrying our smoothies to the table. We took our smoothies, and set them on the tables.
When the girl had gone back to the counter, I looked back at her. She was looking down and biting on her straw.
“It just shouldn’t have happened so soon. She should still be here.” Her voice broke. “It wasn’t her time.” She cleared her throat and took a sip of her smoothie.
“Have you tried praying about it?” I asked. She looked up at me like I’d lost my mind.
“God doesn’t care. If He cared the slightest bit about us, He wouldn’t have taken her. He’s not gonna help us deal with something He did.” She said incredulously.
“How will you know if you don’t try?” She looked down again and thought for a moment.
“Praying is not gonna make her come back. She’s gone, and no amount of prayer is gonna change that.” She bit down on her straw and closed her eyes.
“It won’t make her come back, but it helps…it makes you feel better. Trust me. I’ve tried it without prayer, and with prayer, and prayer sure does make it a lot easier.” I remembered the past few nights, sitting in my bed. Tod had been sick all night. He wasn’t eating. That was the night I started praying. For him. For Ali. For Milly, even.
The sound of Ali’s hand shaking on the table brought me back to reality. When I looked up she was crying, but I could tell she was trying hard to hide it.
“Do you want me to pray with you?” I asked. She looked up. I saw something in her eye that said she believed again. Her faith was back, even if just for a second.
She just nodded her head. I put my hands on the table for her to hold. She placed her hands in mine, and closed her eyes. This confused me. Of all the times I’d seen Ali pray, she had never once closed her eyes. Her hands shook in mine, as she let out another sob. I bowed my head and started to pray.
“Dear God, we pray that you would put your hand on Ali and help her to heal. I ask that you would help her to understand, and that you would bring her peace. I pray for Milly, that she is happy in heaven, and that she has found peace in your kingdom. I pray for Milly’s mother and father, and for Cassy and Lisa, that you will be with them through all of this. Help them to remember you, Lord, that they would know this is not goodbye, but just sort of…” The right phrase refused to come to my lips.
“…see you later…” Ali offered. I looked up. She was smiling. I knew God’s process had begun insider her heart. I smiled back.
“…a see you later.” I continued. “Amen.” I finished. Ali’s hands seemed to fall out of mine, almost as if she had become a puppet that someone had just cut the strings on. For a minute, we just sat in silence. She was biting her straw and her lip at the same time. I took a sip of my smoothie.
“I think…” She began. I looked up from the table to see her looking out the window. She turned to face me. “I think you were right.” She smiled. It was the first real smile I had seen from her in ages. I thought back to the day of Milly’s funeral.

“Her life was short, but it was well lived.” Pastor Allen had been asked to preach for the funeral. He was, after all, Milly’s great uncle. I tried to listen to the speech, but was too lost in my own thoughts. Suddenly, all the memories came flashing back to me. I remembered when Tod had come home talking about her the first time. Quiet, soft-spoken, and shy had been the words he used to describe her. Inside my own head, I suppressed a giggle. She had become anything but shy after meeting Tod. Every Wednesday night after church, they would skip around the church like maniacs, hugging everybody and anybody who would hug them back. Still soft-spoken and quiet, but not shy.
I came back to reality of the funeral for just a second, to see Alex and Ali crying onto one another, Ali more than Alex. I went to stand beside them, knowing it would do no good. As I walked up to stand beside Ali, she turned and looked at me. She leaned onto my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I hated to see her like this, but I stayed close to her. She needed me right now. I was sure that I would be lost in my thoughts soon, anyway. Yet my eyes stayed firmly focused on the black wooden coffin, clinging to it as if it were life itself. But I knew very well that the thing that my eyes now so desperately took hold of did not represent life at all, but the opposite. That carved wooden box represented the loss of a loyal friend. A lifetime of memories, coming to an end. It represented a heart that once beat with so many emotions, now lifeless in the chest of a small blue-eyed girl.

Before I knew it, I was at the bottom of my cup, and I had a pounding headache. Probably brain freeze. I thought. I looked up at Ali, who was staring out the window, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked, looking at her almost empty smoothie cup. She looked at me like she had just woken up from a dream.
“Oh…” She said, looking at her cup. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She smiled and picked up her purse from the floor beside her chair. She took her cup from the table and threw it into the trash can beside the door. She led the way to the car that sat, lonely, in the parking lot. I looked around to see maybe four other cars in the whole parking lot. The car door shutting brought me back, and I realized I was grasping the handle of the driver’s side door. I pulled the door open and climbed in. We drove back in silence. When I couldn’t stand it any more, I reached up to turn on the radio, wishing instantly that I hadn’t. The familiar words came through the speakers, as if they had been positioned to jump into our minds as soon as I turned the radio on.
Oh, I don’t know how to let you go…You’re so deep down I my soul…I feel helpless…so hopeless…Like a door that never closes…No, I don’t know how to do this.
I looked over at Ali, and was surprised to see her singing along, without a single tear on her face. I smiled at the idea. I had done my job…and God had done his.