Troubled Waters by BobA. Troutt

  *****

  Troubled Waters

  Fourteen New Shiny Pennies

  The silhouette of a young woman hung in the midst of the drizzling rain. Debra stood quiet beside the stone colored casket. The tilt of her umbrella accented her eyes as the small crowd began to taper off, leaving her in a moment of solitude. Moments later the rain began to pick up and fall harder. Another woman, Bessie Mae, came over to Debra and escorted her to the car. As the two stood there waiting to get in the car, Bessie Mae turned to embrace Debra. A small two-year-old girl stepped out of the car.

  “Mama, Mama,” she cried.

  Quickly Debra turned and took the child in her arms. The two women and the child disappeared into the car. The rain drummed hard upon the ground as the casket sat alone above the grave. As the car drove off I wiped away the fog from the window. As I was leaving the graveyard I thought it was the longest day of my life, I was out of tears. All I could think about was my Mama. It was hard to give her up. She was my mother and my best friend. When Mama died, I felt that part of me died with her.

  The rain continued on into the early night, while I lay down to sleep. I remember the thunder roaring outside, and the rain dancing hard on the tin roof of the house. Mama always did love Smokey Mountain rain.

  It was 1958. The hard rain of the night before lay still on the ground as morning broke over the golden horizon. I stood and stared out the window of Mama and Daddy’s home at the awakening dawn—I remembered Mama.