Chapter 19 — The Empty Pew

Still set in her state of temporary insanity, Ella Bradshaw shut the front door to the house, swallowed two pain pills with a glass of water and then went to stretch out on her bed. Presently, occupying the front bedroom belonging to both her parents, she could actually hear anyone who came into the yard and who would leave when it was their time for doing so. Therefore, with much precision and patience, she had her ears cocked, waiting to hear the return home of Mr. Marshall and her father. But the constant bobbing of her head and heavy flickering of her eyelids had gotten the best of her; and soon she was off into a very deep sleep.

It was a little after 8:00 p.m., when Ella had rested her head upon the pillow, and now it was almost 7:00 a.m. when she began feeling the urge to empty some water from her body and opened her eyes to face the day. And in that moment it half occurred to her that she hadn’t recalled Mr. Marshall or her father pounding on the door for her to let him inside the house, although, the front door was already unlocked.

She just couldn’t remember of any bright lights glaring through her bedroom windows, getting her full attention or even any scuffling sounds, indicating that they had returned home that night.

Eager to release the liquid from her body, Ella open the front door and rushed out into the yard and emptied her bladder behind one of the patches of shrubs in the front yard. And upon done releasing herself, she raced to the back bedroom where her father had been sleeping for few weeks now to see if he was there or not. But, there were no signs of him anywhere around the room, the bathroom or out in the backyard.

Ella felt that something terrible must have happened and he was rushed to the hospital and admitted there once again.

Returning from the backyard and presently standing in the room which her father currently occupies, she began taking a keener look around the space where her father has been sleeping and had many of his possession there with him. Soon, she came to realize that some of her father’s worldly goods were gone missing and so were most of his medication from the hospital.

In the center of the ten-by-ten room, Ella stood staring at the walls with a puzzling look upon his face.

Carefully, she stood there trying to analyze the situation she was left to face. From what she could recalled, it didn’t sound like her father had left out of the yard with any bags in his hands. Neither had she heard Mr. Marshall referring to her father anything about a luggage that needed to be place inside of his truck.

Did Mr. Marshall, secretly planned with her father, to evacuate him out of the house?

Lingered the big question on Ella’s mind.

“How the fuck could he have done this… how the hell could they have done this to me?”

Ella questioned herself with wonderment spreading upon her face more and more. Even though, it was somewhat a moment of happy-riddance for her.

Filled with tons of perplexities, the teenager decided to leave out of her father’s room, return to her own bedroom and rest for a while so she could mentally process whatever it was, she presently had been experiencing.

This was a stiff one and she needed a stiff drink just to figure it out. But as she was making her way to her bedroom, here comes the man she thought had all the answer come pulling up in the yard.

Slamming the door to his truck, Mr. Marshall walked boldly to the veranda steps and greeted Ella with a haughty good morning.

Her response was quite hesitant but, he was also her boss and she knew, she was going to need those paycheck in the weeks ahead. Therefore, she humbled herself and reciprocated the early morning gesture.

“Good morning, Mr. Marshall!”

Ella said with a steady face; showing no signs of pleasantness or unpleasantness.

But he knew, this was just not her style; her greetings usually comes with a smile or a childish giggle.

He however, knew, she was still in recovery process from the severe pain, resulting from the beatings by a group of police officers, trying to get answers pertaining to the whereabouts of one of their own who had suddenly gone missing. So knowing this, Mr. Marshall sympathetically asked;

“Are you still in pain… not feeling any better, augh?”

Ella’s answer stunned him when she angrily answered;

“Right now, I am feeling all right! Getting stronger and stronger by the damn minute!”

Realizing that her mood wasn’t as cheerful like all those from the other mornings, Mr. Marshall, ignored her unfriendly behavior and questioningly inquired from her; “Where is your father, Ella?”

“I think, you could answer that question better than me!”

Ella replied with a frown upon her face.

“We bought the wreaths from the flower shop, dropped them off at the hospital morgue, and then on our way back here, he requested that I let him off in the center of town; so he could visit one of his friends from his job. Possibly, to tell him and his family about his wife’s funeral today!”

Mr. Marshall explained.

“Well, I was expecting the both of you’re here last evening, but I fell asleep waiting up for you somewhere around eight 0’clock, maybe!”

Ella expressed.

“He might have decided to stay over by his friend’s house last night and probably will come back here soon, or, leave from there for the funeral.”

Mr. Marshall presuming, said.

“But most of the clothing from his room is gone missing; even some of the bottles with his medication from the hospital, I don’t see there anymore!”

Ella exclaimed.

“What the hell are you saying to me, Ella?”

Said, Mr. Marshall, frighteningly.

“Yes, come and see for yourself; his god pairs of shoes and most of his clothing are all gone from the room!”

Ella said loudly while directing the Good Samaritan to the room her father once occupied.

The room certainly looked bare from all its belongings, and now Mr. Marshall started concluding that Christopher Bradshaw had this getaway excursion all orchestrated out in his corrupted mind from previous days.

Totally lost for words, Mr. Marshall, stood in silence for a moment inside Christopher Bradshaw’s room, before uttering to Ella about the time for transporting her to her mother’s funeral.

“Get yourself ready by 12:30, so, you and I will drive to the church for the churching of your mother.”

Mr. Marshall expressed.

But instead of responding to Mr. Marshall’s statement, Ella burst out asking; “So what about Dion and Devon?”

“I thought you would be bringing them along to the funeral as well!”

Ella went on stating.

“No, Ella, you really don’t want to bring these little ones to a funeral and having them remembering their mother being in a box and then being place under the earth. Let them enjoy their childhood days and not worry about death, funerals and graveside rituals.”

Mr. Marshall informed her, showing a look of concern on his face.

For a moment Ella paused, reflecting and concluding that probably he was totally right, in making this decision. Before announcing to him her shocking and well thought about verdict.

“You know, Boss-man, I really don’t want to be at this church… at this funeral today… I know it’s my mother and I should be there, but I just don’t have the energy for doing such, I really don’t!”

Ella expressed with a demeanor of annoyance showing upon her.

“What the fuck is going on here in this family!”

Mr. Marshall shouted saying.

“Nella, is neither my wife nor my mother, and here I am, showing much more interest in her getting buried than her husband and you combine together!”

He continued saying vexingly.

Ella, was now the one stuck into a state of shock, because, she had never heard Mr. Marshall raised his voice so angrily or had spoken with such profanity.

Her eyes were wide open and her gaze fixated on him, and she knew she had to come up with some sensible justification or explanation to her well sorted out decision.

“You know, I haven’t been feeling well from yesterday, and it’s only the shocking absence of my father that you came and found me here this morning. Because my intention was to leave for the hospital so they could figure out why I’m hurting so much even with taking the extra strength pain pills you had given to me!”

Ella spoke, as though, she was about to take her last breath.

Mr. Marshal was already fully aware that this young girl was filled with street-smarts and common sense, however, he failed to believe that she was fabricating this story about her painful ailment; even a twisty weeny tiny bit! And his helping hands were very present in this proclaimed troubling moment once again.

“Hurry-up and get dress let me rush you off to the hospital before you too in this family kick the bucket!”

He said anxiously.

Without any hesitancy, Ella rushed inside her bedroom, closed the door behind her and began changing out of the oversize t-shirt she was wearing. Around twenty-five minutes, she was back into the living room ready to go, with her hair up into a ponytail, a brown top with shining logo on the front of it, a dark green skirt and a pair of old black shoes.

Mr. Marshall had never seen her like this before, all put together and dolled up, and he came realize that she was several times more beautiful than he had anticipated.

Closing both back door and front door of the house, Ella began making her way towards the big red truck. While, Mr. Marshall, seated around the steering wheel unable to take his eyes off of her.

Like a sweet gentleman, he reached over and pulled at the handle of the door, opening wide the door to the truck for her. And like a strong independent woman, she slammed the door shut behind her after comfortable seating herself in the passenger seat beside him.

He didn’t wanted to, but he couldn’t resist, so he said it.

“Ella, you’re looking really beautiful!”

Mr. Marshall said, taking his eyes off the road.

“If you think so, thank you!”

She responded nonchalantly.

“Yeah man! You really do… I wouldn’t lie to you about that!”

Mr. Marshall retorted with gazing eyes on Ella’s face one minute, and then back on the road, ever so often.

Leaning against the windscreen of the door, in almost a depressing state and heavy sighing, Ella slightly turned her head towards the Good Samaritan and clumsily stated;

“I think it is full time, you go and see your eye doctor, so he can prescribe something strong for those eyes of yours!”

Her statement had Mr. Marshall chuckling with much laughter, but Ella was dead serious.

“Whenever I’m going to see him or her, I’ll certainly take you along with me!”

Mr. Marshall fired back, trying to humorously counteract what the young girl had just said to him.

But, before Ella could ask him, what for, his full attention was on the street and other traffics, as he tried making that right turn onto the hospital premises.

Hurrying out of the truck, after it was parked, the teenager started making her way towards the admission area of the hospital while Mr. Marshall running behind her and asking;

“Would you like for me to come inside with you?”

“What for?” Ella shouted; “Don’t you have a funeral to attend?”

“I still have around an hour and a half to be there!”

Mr. Marshall replied.

“I really don’t need an interpreter for this! So go and get yourself dress for the funeral, and just maybe, I’ll meet you there!”

Ella advised trying to get rid of her Good Samaritan.

Realizing that she was adamant about not wanting his presence there with her, Mr. Goody-Goody, reentered his truck, happily waved goodbye to Ella and then drove away.

Carefully watching the red truck exiting off the grounds of the hospital and making a right turn, in the same direction it had just recently came from, Ella was now fully in charge of executing her plan.

Yes, she was feeling pain, but not any pain that needed any doctor’s attention. But to avoid going to her mother’s funeral, she decided that this would be the place that she would be spending her day instead. And now, in a liberal state of mind, Ella went to the snack-bar on the hospital premises, ordered as many nick-knacks snacks as she could afford, seated herself on one of the chairs in the corner, and feasted herself in as much of the sweet delights as she could. Having no intention of leaving there until nightfall had come, and she knew for certain that the burial ceremony of her mother had to be done and over with. And that was how Ella spent her Wednesday afternoon, the moments of her own mother’s funeral.

Meanwhile, the Good Samaritan, Mr. Marshall, had return to the office of his company, changed out of his work clothing, into a very nice black suit with a dark gray shirt underneath and red tie around his neck. He had wet his hair a bit to bring some life to the curls, and minutes later in was inside his truck and driving to churchyard where Nella Bradshaw’s funeral would be kept. His presence at the churchyard had met with other mourners and well-wishers who had come from near and far, to say their goodbyes, to the disease woman.

Even though, there weren’t much tears being shed there, but mostly small groups of gossipers out of the fifty-add persons who present were there.

But, there weren’t any signs at all around the church grounds of the disease husband, Christopher Bradshaw.

Shaking his head in a state of disbelief, Mr. Marshall grumbling underneath his breath said;

“Nella Bradshaw must either be my mother, my aunt or my own fucking wife!”

His words hadn’t left his mouth, fast enough, there came the big black Hurst, rolling up to the front door of the church building, with six or seven men, dressed in black, and began transporting the big brown coffin up to the front of the church alter.

Not long after thirty-minutes or so, the crowd grew much larger, bringing the priest to conclude that it was now time, to commence with the funeral service. Although, there weren’t any sign at all of the disease common-law husband, Christopher Bradshaw.

Father Frank, ushered the large crowd of funeral attendees inside the wide open auditorium of the church, encouraging them to be seated, and also expressing to them that the ceremony would begin soon.

The row of seats situated up at the front of the church, reserve for family members only, were completely empty. Bringing about a puzzle look upon everyone’s face, except, Mr. Marshall’s.

Seeing this, Father Frank surprisingly ask;

“What the hell, is happening here… is all Nella’s family members already under the ground?”

But the eyes of the congregation only met his with dead gazes, until one man seated behind the second pew, where Mr. Marshall sat, spoke loud enough for others to hear. And from his description, the Good Samaritan knew for sure, he was absolutely telling the truth.

“I don’t think I’m mistaken, but I quite certain, I saw Mr. Bradshaw, taking a bus into the city early this morning; with one of those large brown traveling bags and his head covered… bandage up with white like he is going to a Pentecostal river baptism!”

The man seated in the third pew expressed with dose of humor.

Raising his hand in the air, trying to get the priest’s attention, Mr. Marshall announce; “Father, in all honesty, from what I know, no other family member of the disease will be coming to partake in this funeral. So I think, it’s best if you go ahead and carry on with the ceremony.”

Mr. Marshall said out loud.

“Are you sure about that, Mr. Marshall?”

Father Frank asked.

“Very Positive, Father!”

Mr. Marshall, responded.

Eyes peering out over at the faces of the congregation, the priest with a grin on his face, wanting to amuse the crowd then said;

“Well, I hope, Ms. Nella, here, don’t start turning in her coffin right in front of this alter, knowing that neither, children nor husband, has come to see her off to her maker in heaven!”

Indeed, everyone started chuckling and giggling. And even the few sobbing faces seated in the congregation as well. Until, the priest, still with a happy countenance, raised both hands in the air and the hymnal blurted out from his mouth;

“When, we all, get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!!! When, we all, see Jesus, we will sing and shout the victory!!!!”

Soon, the large crowd of around two hundred persons or so; joined in with lifting their voices and singing the starter hymnal along with the enthusiastic priest. Meanwhile, Mr. Marshall, had both eyes set on all four doors of the huge religious edifice, hoping and praying that Ella would soon walk through anyone of the doors. But, as faith would have it, he was only looking through those wide open doors in vain.

Many scripters were read after the hymnal, which was done mostly by the priest, the congregation took part in such and few others by individuals as well. Even, Mr. Marshall, with the super kind soul, who was being considered a close friend and representative of the family, or, even their spokesperson some have added; was called to the podium for a reading from the scriptures. Which, he out rightly objected to.

“Father, I’m not a holy man and not worthy far gracing your, alter!”

Mr. Marshall said with head bowing in reverence to the priest.

Insisting that he approach the podium and deliver these readings from, The Holy Book, Father Frank with a smirk on his face and a wink to his eye, turned to the congregation and loudly ask;

“So, you honestly think, I have holy bones inside of me, why I’m up here pronouncing the rites over the dead and conducting Sunday morning services?”

His humorous utterances brought about an outburst of laughter to the congregation, and right after had Mr. Marshall, submitting to the priest’s command.

Gently spreading the leaves of the gigantic book, Father Frank then pointed his finger to the exact chapter where he wanted the Good Samaritan to read from.

“Right here, read this, 1 Corinthians 13: 4-13!”

Father Frank said, as he kept on tapping his index finger to the precise spot of the bible where he wanted, Mr. Marshall, delivering its message from.

The verses were expressing the topic of love from start to finish. And the more Mr. Marshall pronounce each word from the pages of the gigantic book was the more balls of tears kept on rolling down his face. Bringing about a contagious atmosphere of watery eyes.

Almost, to the second-to-last verse, Mr. Marshall suddenly stopped reading, turned his head towards the priest seated behind him and with tears flooding from his eye-balls and snorts dripping from his nostrils, he managed to utter through his lamentation;

“Father, this is why… I didn’t want to come up here… and read from this book… it always does something to me!”

Arising from his seat, Father Frank hastily walked over to where Mr. Marshall stood weeping, rested his hand upon his shoulder as he encouragingly stated;

“Continue to read my brother; I understand the conviction is quite strong for you now, but please, continue reading!”

And as the verses echoed out messages of love, and the priest began expressing such to the watery-eyed man, the large congregation erupted with many of loud hallelujahs until the weeping reader had completed the text.

Few minutes later, another hymnal was being raised by the priest, soothing hearts, minds and spirits, before the congregation along with the box carrying the dead was transported to the backyard of the church. Where, people began gathering around the large hole dug for such an occasion as this. While, strong men rolled up their shirt sleeves, positioned the shiny brown coffin over the hole and have it reseeded into the moist brown earth.

Meanwhile, the priest kept on declaring out loud; “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust!” as he sprinkled saucer after saucer of ashes on top of the shiny box and continuously directed and redirected one hand across his chest, as if, he wanted to make certain, Ms. Nella’s warring spirit didn’t returned to that side of the globe, forever.

As the coffin was being laid to rest into the ground, so was the sun setting in the west, and yet still, Ella hadn’t shown up at the church yard to see her mother transcending from being among the living to joining company with the dead. Which, had left a feeling of utterly sadness in Mr. Marshall’s heart, knowing that she wasn’t there to neither witness nor partake in this very important moment of her own family’s changing dynamic. But, little did he know, Ella was the same one who had singlehandedly shoved her mother into an early grave.

Would she ever regret this moment in the future or would her heart and mind be at ease?

Hasting away from the grounds of the church, Mr. Marshall’s main interest now was only to find Ella saw to it that she was treated at the hospital and then drive her back to her house. Although, many persons from the crowd were pestering him to drop them off here and bring them there. Requisitions, he regrettable rejected, simply because, Ella was presently his main priority.

The atmosphere was between that break of a little light and much darkness, and the street lights, though few, were being turned on one after the other. In a quick rush, Mr. Marshall entered his truck, pressed foot to the gas pedal and then was on his way in search of, Ella Bradshaw. And just around two blocks from the hospital, he recognized her figure, walking along the sidewalks, facing home.

Easing his foot from the gas pedal, slowing down the vehicle, he shouted; “Ella! Wait right there I’m coming to get you!”

Immediately, Ella knew it was him and stood on the side of the street and watched him do a U-turn in the middle of the street and started cruising towards her. Although, she knew very little about courtier etiquette and neither did she cared about such either. Mr. Marshall removed himself from behind the steering wheel, gently opened the door to the truck for her and let her in.

Returning to his position around the steering wheel and gassing up the truck engine, he anxiously turned to her asking;

“Did the doctors found out your condition and treated you for it?”

Leaning against the window of the truck, Ella kept silent for a while before dishing out her answer.

Not caring to indulge him with the truth, she told him, “Yes!” as she started burping out one of the many cream sodas that she recently had in the hospital snack bar.

“They claimed, its only gas I’m having, gave me some white pills to suck-on and then sent me to the restroom to sit!”

Ella shamefully said while steadfast gazing through the windscreen with her elbow resting against its ledge.

Since such was the problem according to Ella, Mr. Marshall decided to pull-up into one of those street side restaurants and buy them both something to eat, no questions ask. Although, he could have easily waited until he reached home to indulge in some of his wife’s cooking, he thought, sharing a bite with her wasn’t much of a bad idea. Especially, since he had been running on his feet all day – from his company, the hospital and then the churchyard; without even putting an ounce of water to his mouth.

His abrupt stop caused Ella to surprisingly ask;

“What you’re doing… Why you stopping… What are you stopping here for?”

“To get us something to eat!”

Mr. Marshall answered with much urgency.

“Something to eat… Oh!”

Ella retorted with an air of uncertainty in her voice.

“Well, in that case, get me a slice of fruitcake and a slice of potato pudding, with the clammy-clammy on top!”

The teenage requested with much pleasantness showing in her face.

“Ella, that’s just too much sweets for you to be having, plus, your meal?”

Mr. Marshall expressed seriously.

“If god didn’t want me to eat sweets, well, he wouldn’t have made sugarcane!”

Ella fired back with all friendly countenances shifting from her face.

Not wanting an argument between him and her in front of the eatery and the quite busy street, Mr. Marshall threw both hands up in the air and approvingly pronounced as he walked towards the food-shop; “Anything for you, young lady… anything for you!”

But, he had only made that decision to buy her these pastries all at once, because he concluded, Ella has been having a couple of rough days. Days of physically, mentally and emotionally stresses as well. Even though, she wasn’t exactly bawling and waling brimstone and fire down on the entire universe. But, the honest truth was a bit far from him and if he had known all the facts, he would have reckoned or construed that this human being has a heart of a damn lion.

Nonetheless, the Good Samaritan returned to his truck, less than an hour later, with a reasonable size bag in hand, drenching the air with wonderful and delicious aromas.

“The silvery container and the bottle of pink juice is mine, and all the other stuff is yours!”

Mr. Marshall explained while handing over the paper bag of food onto Ella’s lap.

“I don’t want you doubling over with cramps as if you’re ready to die before your time, so eat-up!”

Continued Mr. Marshall.

“Thanks much, Mr. Marshall!” Ella said with a bright smiley face; “My fruitcake is for later on when I’m ready for going to bed!”

Mr. Marshall was quite happy that she was happy, and he certainly didn’t want to do or say anything to interfere with this moment of joyfulness, which the young lady seated beside him was presently displaying. Unsurprisingly, it was set on his heart to talk about her mother’s funeral and how the turned out of it was wonderful; and how he had regretted that she hadn’t made it there. But learning by now that her personality was one with abrupt mood swings, Mr. Marshall decided to make this topic of conversation rested until another day.

Less than thirty minutes later, they had reached their destination; pulling up and soon parking the big red truck onto the Bradshaw’s property.

Shockingly, Ella noticed that the front door was wide open and the windows halfway cracked, which she was quite positive, she had left them closed.

“Probably, your father has returned home and opened the doors to catch an ounce of fresh air.”

Mr. Marshall being a witness to this, said.

A mean countenance was all over Ella’s face and it was obvious that she was ready for war – ready to start a contention with her father.

Intuitively and suddenly, it came to her to ask the man seated beside her; “What did he say about me at the funeral, and me not being there?

Sadly looking over at Ella face, Mr. Marshall answered; “He wasn’t there, and if he was, I hadn’t seen him. But, I looked all over for him or you to come through those church doors, but either of you had showed up there!”

“And it would be very difficult for me to miss him, especially, with that thick white clothing wrapped around his entire head.”

Mr. Marshall continued.

Probably… jut probably, he is here to collect the rest of his damn stuff from inside the house!”

Ella calculatedly stated, looking up at Mr. Marshall for some form of affirmation to her statement.

“That could be the case, so let’s get inside the house and see!”

Responded Mr. Marshall.

The lights inside the kitchen were on.

Ella, in a hurry walked straight to the kitchen which led to the room which her father was occupying. But, he wasn’t there and looked the same way as she had left it.

Quickly, she rushed towards her bedroom, pulled at the doorknob and switched the lights on. And to her amazement, there was a tall black figure, completely stretch out across her bed, comfortably off sleeping.

At first, nothing on the stranger’s body seems familiar, other than, she was a female… a woman.

Soon there were sounds of forts and slim dripping from her mouth as she rolled over, repositioning herself, so as to ease the pressure from one side of her body to the next.

The thin shirt she was wearing rolled up off her body a bit, exposing the bare skin of her back. And then immediately, Ella recognized the triangle mark in the center of her back, engraved in her back and looking like one of those pyramids of Egypt.

Both hands covering her face, exposing only her eyes; Ella looked back and forth, at the person lying on top of the bed and then at Mr. Marshall, repeatedly. Deciding whether or not it would be all right for her to interrupt her sleep.

While Mr. Marshall kept on whispering to Ella with bulging eyes;

“Who is she… who the hell is she, Ella?”

Switching off back the lights, holding him by the hand, she led him back onto the veranda and childishly whispered;

“She is one of my sisters! She left couple months aback and refuse from contacting anyone in the family!”

“Probably she came for your mother’s funeral!”

Mr. Marshall suggested.

“Maybe!” Ella replied; “When she awakes, I’ll find out from her!”

Having only the light from the kitchen, reflecting its glare into the living room and then out onto the veranda; Ella and Mr. Marshall sat in the shadows of the glaring lights and started biting into the food which he had bought for them. And quietly, they sat there eating, until, Hyacinth was up and made a frighteningly alarm.

“My goodness, I have fallen asleep and even leaving, the front door open!”

Hyacinth said while making her way towards the front door to have it locked. But to her surprise, there were two strange figures sitting in the darkness and staring up at her. The sudden encounter had startled her a bit, and now one hand was clutching to her chest and the other onto her throat, while she kept on gasping for air.

She soon came to realize that it was her sister Ella sitting there, but who the middle-age man had been, she was clueless.

Presently standing on her feet, the familiarity of Hyacinth’s face, came back to Mr. Marshall’s mind with much clarity.

“I have seen you before… you were at the funeral… Ms. Nella’s funeral this afternoon?”

Mr. Marshall said asking.

“Yes, I was there!” Hyacinth Admitted.

“And you were the man quite nervous to read the holy bible upon the church podium!”

Pronounce Hyacinth, with a pleasant chuckle.

“Guilty as birds with feathers!”

Voiced, Mr. Marshall, with a closed-lip smile.

“So, why, didn’t you sit up front on the chairs reversed for family members only?”

Mr. Marshall couldn’t help, but asked.

“Did you see a single soul seated upon that front row?”

Hyacinth uttered, sarcastically.

“I guess, you’re right!”

Mr. Marshall said with a smile.

Few seconds later, they both were shaking hands and introducing themselves to each other.

“I’m Ronald Marshall, owner of the crushing company, just down the road from here!”

Mr. Marshall expressed with all front teeth grinning, as though, he was participating in a Colgate contest.

“Hyacinth Bradshaw, one of the many daughters of the disease who was buried today.”

Ella’s sister said, showing all molars and premolars. Meanwhile, Ella still seated there, quietly, observing the new found connection.

Although, there weren’t any bad-blood between them as sisters, there were no friendly greeting, even though, Ella wanted to. However, she wholeheartedly admired what the absence from their homely environment had done to her elder sister. Because, now she was looking quite beautiful and acting quite sophisticated, as if, not a single ounce trauma had graced the periods of her life. She could also tell, her boss Mr. Marshall, had some likeness for her sister, as well.

It soon became obvious to Hyacinth that her two youngest siblings, Dion or Devon voices had been heard neither had they been seeing anywhere around the house. Therefore, with a quick outburst she surprisingly inquired.

“What happen to Dion and Devon? I didn’t see them at the church nor have I seen them in this house since I came here!”

Swallowing the last piece of fruitcake, Ella pointed her finger at Mr. Marshall. And when her throat was totally cleared from the food, she happily responded; “He has them!”

“He and his wife has been keeping them for me at their house, until I have saved up enough money to start them off in basic school, which would be, the next upcoming week from now.”

She went on explaining with a sense of pride.

“You’re very generous to be doing this act for our family.”

Hyacinth said, turning her head towards, Mr. Marshall.

Time had magically seep in and took up residence, and the stars were thick, heavy and twinkling in the skies. Glancing upon his wristwatch, Mr. Marshall could see that it was getting late; almost close to ten o’clock. And with that realization, he stood straight upon his feet, ready to bid goodbye and goodnight, to the Bradshaw sisters.

“Ella, I hope you’re feeling much stronger by Monday morning to you can return to work.”

Mr. Marshall said stretching his limbs.

“I hope so too, Sir!”

Ella replied.

“Well, I have to go now, so hope to see you, bright and early Monday morning! And nice meeting you, Hyacinth!”

The man with a heart of gold, softly commented making his way to his truck.

In a jiffy, the truck engine was revving, the headlights were brightly shining and the truck was moving backwards out of the front yard owned by the Bradshaw family. Moments later, the horn could be heard totting and then, the truck was no more in sight. Leaving the two sisters to reconnect and share their feelings about all that has been transpiring in the family, in the past, and also most recently. But, Ella would never let it be known to her sister that she was the one who had singlehandedly sent off their mother to her grave, or, had wrongfully given her brother over to the hands of the law to rot.

Such admission was only for her soul to bare, and for her soul alone to deal and revel with until she willingly spill the beans or otherwise take them with her to her silent home.