Body of Ash

Released
August
2012

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Cover Design by Miranda Wheeler

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“I can resist everything except temptation.”

Oscar Wilde

PREFACE

November 8
^th
, Saturday 4:00
PM

Riding in the passenger seat, the teen watched as her father followed behind a parade of cars. One by one, they weaved their way into the church parking lot. The place was packed – mostly with local cars, although not all contained the familiar blue and white tags of a Connecticut license plate.  At the door, a line of townspeople began to form. Huddled under umbrellas, the attendees stood dressed in black, wearing hopeless expressions.

The holidays were approaching, but the November day would not be used for shopping. Pies, frozen turkeys, and canned cranberries would sit a day longer at the grocers. The mood of the town was one of shock and disbelief. Family get-togethers were put on hold and flags were placed at half-mass in honor of the dead.

Because Canaan had lost one of its beloved – parishioners and nonbelievers alike came out to pay their respects. Despite the frigid air, the wake was the church’s largest turnout to date.

She couldn’t help but wonder how many more people would arrive tomorrow. The burial was scheduled for 9 AM followed by a brief morning service. While some would be
pondering what they should wear or if they should send along a casserole or a dessert, she battled with her own demon – whether or not she could live with herself if she didn’t attend.

The weather was cold, even for late fall. The sky had poured for four nights straight. Even now, as she strained to see who was in attendance, a steady rain rapped against the windshield, limiting her view.
With a sigh
of frustration
from her
father, he finally did what many other drivers
were doing and
pulled onto the spongy
lawn at the back of the fellowship hall.

A Jeep Wrangler pulled in beside them. The elderly occupant behind the wheel opened his door to disembark. As he met her eyes, his face blanched with recognition. Slouching lower in her seat, the seventeen-year-old knew it was inevitable that her family would be the talk of the town until a new disaster occurred.  

Despite what everyone thought and what little the newspaper reports got right, no one understood her private hell.

1

RACHEL

October 30
^th
, Thursday 7
:00 AM

Just because Rachel Jones woke up year older didn’t mean her parents gave a damn. As their only child, she hoped reaching the milestone of her seventeenth year would encourage her folks to treat her differently. But, after silencing her alarm and listening to the familiar hum of her childhood home, her wishful thinking didn’t last. While Rachel lived an invisible existence on the second floor, it was just another day in the life of Mr. and Mrs. Brian Jones. 

Dressing in her favorite jeans and a hoodie, Rachel slipped on a pair of Converse and hurried down the hall. As she passed the guest room, she heard her father’s familiar snore. H
er parents hadn’t shared a bed in four years.
Unsure if it was Brian’s disruptive reverberations or Angela’s fragile nerves, their sleeping arrangements matched the way they moved around the house. Despite their close proximity, the two never touched.

Her bathroom routine was simple. With her mother’s flawless skin, Rachel didn’t need makeup. With a touch of mascara, she accented pale eyelashes. Her hair was the only genetic gift from her dad. The rich auburn was one of the first things people noticed when they met her. As she brushed it back into a pony tail, she was thankful for its easy maintenance.

Pausing in the kitchen to grab a cheese stick and a bottle of water, she spotted the thin frame of her mother sitting at the table. Already dressed in a cashmere sweater and brown slacks, Angela sat in silence staring out the bay window. A mug of tea was held in her hands, but she didn’t appear to have touched it.

For a moment, Rachel imagined strolling over and offering a hug. She had seen her friends embrace their parents, but she couldn’t recall the last time she had. It was before her age hit the double digits, back when smiles and laughter weren’t completely unfamiliar in the Victorian home they shared. Instead, she cleared her throat, alerting her mother to her presence.

“Good morning,” Rachel offered. 

Angela tilted her head and glanced at her daughter. “You aren’t going to wear that tonight are you?”

“No. I have an outfit set aside for later.”

“Good,” her mother said, turning back to the window. “Remind Jason that dinner will be served at 5:30 sharp.”

“I will.”

No
‘H
appy birthday
!’
or
‘How are you Rachel?’  Thanks mom.

Stepping outside to take the short walk to school,
the overcast sky held a
wind
that
pushed at her back, leavi
ng her skin cool. As she walked down the street, Rachel wondered how her mother could spend so much time at that table, contemplating a world she didn’t seem to enjoy. Angela was well liked, even admired by the attendees of the church her father led, but Rachel knew there was a quiet unhappiness in her mother. They didn’t need a close relationship to recognize that.

Rachel didn’t get far when she heard the familiar rumble of a Yamaha’s engine, closing in behind her. Pulling up at the curb, her boyfriend’s eyes gave her an appreciative
scan. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Rachel smiled. He looked like a bad boy with his dark features and leather jacket, but she knew better. Despite an occasional big mouth, Jason was in all honors classes and his
SAT scores guaranteed him a spot at Cambridge’s MIT next fall.

“I needed to get out of there,” she said.

“What, no birthday pancakes and presents?” With graceful movements, his six foot tall body climbed off the bike. 
Unzipping his j
acket, he reached in
.
“Do you know what I have for you?”

Tapping
her f
ingers in feigned concentration, she pretended to think.
“Hmm,” she brought her finger to he
r chin.
“A birthday gift
?”

Holding out a pink satin ring box, Jason lifted the lid, revealing a small opal ring with diamond chips. “It’s your birthstone,” he said. Taking it from the box, he slipped it onto her ring finger. “I’ve been doing extra work for my Dad so I could save up for it.” 

He could have give
n me a scrap of paper
and it
would still be
perfect.

With a satisfied expression, he brushed dark bangs from his eyes. The gift was a statement. With all of the talk about going away to college between them, he had insisted she apply to Lesley University so they could be near each other – even mentioning the possibility of them sharing an apartment
together after freshmen year in Cambridge. Placing the ring on her finger now, was a promise. Jason didn’t need to say the words.

Rachel’s heart felt a tug of emotion.
No matter how bent she was on wallowing i
n pity, he could make her smile.
Her parents didn’t make room for her in their lives, always leaving notes on the refrigerator, instructing her what time to come home, when to do chores, what she should heat in the microwave for dinner. Communication kept limited to a statement or two. Jason was different. Even without speaking, he could say plenty. 

“It’s beautiful,
”
she said studying the small stone. Tilting her hand, she appreciated the simplicity of the setting.  Meeting his smile with one of her own, she added, “Don’t think this means you can skip dinner with my parents tonight.”