Days of Love and Blood

approached the tree, I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It was possible that her body was gone, taken away by carnivorous creatures of the night and scavengers of the dead. I didn’t pause to collect myself before I crawled underneath the foliage. I braced myself without a tear.
    Her body was still there. I saw the pointed shoe first, jutting out from the other side of the trunk. Moving around to the back of the tree I found her whole, decomposing body slumped over from where it had been leaning against the tree, a gun resting on her lap.
    Sunlight suddenly broke through and streamed in from the other side without blinding me. It came in faintly, through the bending branches and around the tiny leaves, casting small pools of brilliance around me which moved back and forth as the wind gently caressed the thin limbs. The ground around us sparkled with dazzling brilliance and a deep sigh was caught in my neck as I choked back one sudden thought.
    She knows I’m here.
    “Oh, Mom,” I sobbed.
    I carefully covered my mother’s remains with her wedding quilt and rolled her into a cocoon. She had always been small and was easy to carry home. I would bury her by the house, in her quilt. If I couldn’t bury her with Dad, the quilt would have to do. It was her most cherished possession and she would be close to home.
    It took me three hours to dig the pit. I checked on Ronan twice and on the second time I found him awake and in the kitchen. I let him sit on the porch to watch me while I finished. After placing her gently in the bottom of the hole, I beckoned Ronan over.
    We stood there, looking down at the crumpled figure underneath the white blanket. A few wisps of white hair stuck out at the top. I didn’t see the bloated corpse which faced me under the tree. Instead I saw my mother’s sleepin g figure, her beautiful face perfectly intact, smiling - resting - with her favorite quilt wrapped around her body. The quilt that reminded her of a lifetime with family. I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t angry with her. She was able to die with her husband. Maybe not alongside him - but she got to name her own death. She chose to follow her beloved. I understood her. I envied her.
    I would have come back to Tennessee more often to visit them but life got in the way. I had a great childhood, and great parents. I was lucky. My mother was the kind of mom who would make me hot chocolate in the wintertime, have tea with me and my dolls and chase away the bogeymen at night. My dad was firm with discipline, but never failed to dole out the hugs and kisses when they were needed. Two decades of childhood memories whirled behind my watery eyes as I looked down upon my mother.
    Ronan leaned into me and reached his small arms around my waist, hugging me tight.
    “I’m sorry, Mommy. But you still have me.”
    “I know, baby,” I sobbed.
    “We should pick some flowers.”
    “We should. That’s a real good idea, sweetheart. Let’s get some flowers.”
    Ronan picked a giant basketful of the yellow dandelions that littered the front lawn while I picked the colorful annuals from around the old mulch which surrounded the house. Wild flowers of every shape and color ran alongside the trees in the back and I pruned the ones I could easily reach. In the end, we could no longer see the white quilt peaking through the blanket of flowers that spread across of the bottom of the pit.
    “What should we do now?”
    “Just stand here and have good thoughts about her, that’s all. Just for a little while.”
    I allowed Ronan to go play in the grass while I stood at the foot of my mother’s grave. My reverie was broken seconds later by the sound of a muffler. I turned to see a giant pick-up truck with a double cab and oversized tires pulling up the driveway. I waved slightly, knowing full well it was someone from the Fielding’s farm. I turned away to wipe my face against the sleeve of my t-shirt and heard the engine shut down while a door creaked open.
    “Carson?” Ivy said.
    “Yeah.”
    My feet shifted while I waited for the inevitable touch of her hands on my back. She didn’t say another word and I rested my head on her shoulder.
    “It’s Mom,” I squelched while sucking in short breaths.
    “I’m so sorry, Carson.”
    “Thanks.” I righted myself when I heard the light tread of footsteps behind us.
    “They wanted to make sure you were alright. So did I.”
    I turned slightly to see Solomon and Cooper edging over the