The trail of marigold petals drifted over the rough path.
The sun had long set and the air was chilled. I pulled the shawl tight
around my body, but goose bumps still ran along my arms. Almost time.
I stared down the smoothly cobbled street. Lanterns swayed and guttered in
the fresh mountain breezes. Garlands, thick with flowers, snaked from
house to house. The village had been planning for weeks. Me? I'd been
planning all year. I always do.
I can't help myself.
The familiar scent of a small, unwashed boy.
I rubbed a chilled hand over my face and blowing out a steamed breath,
turned back to my doorway.
Candles flickered a wash of golden light over the small room. The rich
aroma of his favourite cakes, heavy with cinnamon hit me… but weaving
through was that unmistakable smell of grass, mud and a small boy always
in trouble.
"Angelo?"
My voice quavered. I bit at my lip and willed my breathing to calm.
Another slow breath escaped me.
And he was there, where he always was, under the table, his cheeks bulging
with cake. Huge brown eyes stared up at me. His fingers already had the
dark stain of chocolate, his lips and nose flecked with pale crumbs.
I knelt and heard my bones crack.
The floor felt harder, uneven. Pain shot along my thighs.
Gnarled fingers swept back the glossy, black hair, pushing it behind his
ear. He grimaced and I couldn't help the shaky laugh.
"Is that nice?"
A finger trembled over his rounded cheek. His skin felt cool. As cool as
when… My heart constricted, feeling the always fresh hole torn through
it-
No. Not those thoughts. Not now. Calm. Smile, Analise. Smile.
My lips ached.
"You make the best cakes, Mama."
"Always."
He stuffed the last of the crumbs into this mouth and crawled out. He
stood. Our eyes were level. So close. I just wanted to hold him, keep him
in my arms, never let him-
No. Put those thoughts away too.
A chocolate covered finger caught in my hair. Scraped back from my face,
but still the frizzy silver curls escaped. When he was a baby at my
breast, Angelo would curl tiny fingers tight into my hair. So tight…
I made myself smile again. "Would you like to play? I got you a new
toy today."
So hard to talk to him. So hard not to wrap him in my arms-
Angelo smiled, bright white teeth gleaming. "It's all right,
Mama." He moved closer and wrapped his arms around my neck.
I shook.
My hands trembled over his spine. I couldn't breath. My head ached and
tears burned my eyes. The solid touch of him. The familiar scent of his
hair, the soft hint of apples that he'd always loved.
And then I held my little boy, my Angelo, my little warrior.
Tears blurred my eyes. Hot.
I fought down the need to sob.
"It's all right, Mama."
Always so confident. So brave.
And the knowledge of what a great man he could have been…
Angelo lifted his head from my shoulder. That same brilliant smile.
"I don't have to come here any more."
No!
No. That wasn't fair-
I-
I couldn't breathe.
My head span with light, with pain-
Burning.
But through it all… Angelo's smile.
I was walking.
Walking down the street to the square. Moonlight silvered the rough roofs.
Ahead of me laughing, skipping was Angelo.
It was over.
We were together again.
Marigold petals floated in the air around me.
The End
