My eyes open with a jolt and I sit up straight on the bed. As I catch my breath and try to calm myself down, I touch my cheeks, and no doubt it’s all damp. I turn around to see my drenched pillow and David’s side of the bed empty. As my breath evens down, I slowly get out of my bed and walk to the bathroom. The mirror reflects a worn-out face with some freckles along the cheekbone. The girl I see has puffed red eyes with tear streaks down her face. Her full red lips somehow seem to have lost their colour, and the brown locks going down her waist are tangled. As she bends down to splash the coldness on her face, I notice the same jeans and top as yesterday.
Stripping those clothes off, I step foot into the warm comforting embrace of the water. I think about all the things that I can. How did it happen? How could I let it? Where would he be now? It all comes crashing down once again where I don’t know which is water and which ones are my tears. I sit there under the shower for quite some time till I’ve regained my composure. Wearing my clothes, my mind wanders off to faraway places. When I look in the mirror, this time the girl looks different. She’s somewhat cleaner yet puffier. Ignoring the looks, I go out to survive through the rest of my day. It has been almost 7 months, and nothing feels normal. Everywhere I go I see traces of him. Him running, playing video games, eating, and cribbing about work.
I feel a little chill in the wind, so I get a cardigan for myself. David won’t be there to eat, and I don’t feel very hungry myself. The trash from last night hasn’t been taken out yet so I take it out. As I’m putting the trash in the big bin outside, I notice a small shoe beside the can. Suddenly it moves and I exclaim out loud. A little kid walks out sheepishly, and I can’t help but stare at him with my eyes wide. He seems to be around the age of 10. Looking at me he says, “Hi I’m Andy, it’s nice to meet you.” It takes me a good 5 seconds to recover, and I greet him back. He tells me that his family moved into the house next door a few days back. I remember seeing a truck with some boxes, it must’ve been them.
He’s telling me all this with such ease, without once thinking that he’s talking to a stranger. Out of the blue, he stops talking and looks at me very carefully. Then he says, “Did you cry?” I’m shocked to hear that, it’s a surprise that he can notice things that David could hardly see. I stay still for a few minutes, it’s difficult to tell a child that I miss my 7-year-old child that drowned because of my negligence. I decided to go with a simple, “Oh nothing, I just had a bad dream.” Hearing that, he tries to console me by telling me about a bad dream that he recently had. I lose my train of thought as he goes on and on about the dream of his brother stealing his toys and breaking them. I come to my senses when he shakes my hand to say that he must go. His mother seemed to be calling out for him, so he says bye to me and goes hopping back to his house.
The next few days go by as usual. Getting up, tearing up in the shower, overthinking, overanalysing, skipping meals, and finally going to bed after dinner. I don’t wait for David to be back home since he works late. I think his guilt and regret make him leave home early and come back as late as possible. One day the doorbell rings, which is odd since no one really came to our house. I unlocked the door only to see a young boy standing there. He was the one from a few days back whose name I could never forget. I invite him in asking about how he is and how did he end up here. What he says next makes me chuckle. He tells me the story of how his brother took his toy, so he ran away from home. I offer him some biscuits and juice as he sits there talking about anything and everything.
It is at this moment I see how similar he is to my Andy. Not once do I feel uncomfortable sitting with him. He gives me a familiar sense of relief and satisfaction by just looking at him eating. I let him sit there for some time and get my mind off the black hole in my head that keeps sucking me in. After talking to him for some time, I go and find the address book. There, I look up his house and find his house telephone number. His father picks up and I tell him about Andy, ah that beautiful name. As soon as he hears this, he starts apologizing saying that he thought Andy was over at the park.
A few minutes later, I hear the doorbell again.
A man stands there greeting me, whom I assume is Andy’s father. I invite him in, and he sits with us for some time just generally talking about why they moved here and what their life is like. Of course, all this happens after he scolds Andy for his behaviour. They stay here till the evening and then while leaving they invite me over for dinner at their house. Since David is not coming anytime soon, I don’t wait for him. I go with them, and it may just be the best decision of my life.
Since after that day, I’ve been hanging out a lot more with Andy and his family. It feels very refreshing after a long time. On days when David comes home early, we go over to the house next door and spend time with their family. Of course, there are days when I miss Andy, my Andy. I will never stop thinking about him but meeting new people and putting our best in recovering from that loss is what he would want us to do. Sometimes it feels weird to smile, am I even supposed to get over the loss? Is it a sin to try and be happy again after what happened with our son?
It is during these low moments that David gives me confidence. We will stand by and support each other no matter what comes.
Suddenly, I hear something. “Louise, let’s go play outside, please please please!”
I chuckle at Andy’s desperation. I’m so glad I met this boy that day.
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