Behind the Puppet Master

Arrangements

Despite being exhausted, I was unable to get any sleep. Everytime I would close my eyes, I was reminded of everything that happened at the hospital. The memory of seeing him get resuscitated, the conversation with Dr. Montgomery, the overwhelming smell of all the flowers, watching him die; I couldn’t bear to keep my eyes closed. Fortunately, every time I opened my eyes, there was the comforting sight of Alexia sleeping next to me. In her sleep, she’s so peaceful and resting, and just watching her sleep is everything. There were times I’d find myself reaching over to hold her, and instinctively, she would snuggle in closer to me, causing my heart to just melt. I’d brush her hair away from her angelic face, to get a better look of her. How the earth can have such a perfect being on its surface, I’ll never know. I take a deep breath and start getting out of bed. Sitting at the edge of the bed, I start sniffling, remembering how different my life is now. Alexia wakes up after hearing my sniffling, and scoots over to hold me. "You're getting up already?" she asks.

"Might as well," I say through pursed lips, "I haven't been able to really sleep anyway."

"I know." she says sympathetically. 

I sigh, telling her how much I have to do. How I have to arrange a meeting with the funeral director to write his obituary, plan his funeral and memorial service. She tells me to handle all that while she heads down to make us breakfast. I try to protest but she shushes me, insisting that I let her take care of me. I finally agree and head downstairs to call the funeral director. The phone call doesn't last long, because the remaining arrangements will be made in person. Right now, we're just setting an appointment to meet, and unfortunately, the funeral director tells me he's unsure, but he will try to come by later this evening. We come to an agreement and set the estimated time before hanging up. I sigh, not knowing what I'll do until then. Lost in thought, I'm sitting at the kitchen island with my head resting on my hands, when I eventually hear Alexia’s footsteps approaching. "How did it go?" she asks me.

"He can't come right now, but he said he'll try to be here by this evening." I tell her, filled with sadness.

"Which just means we have more time to do whatever until then!" she says enthusiastically while rubbing my shoulder. 

"Like what?" I ask with a smile I can't hold back.

She bites her lip as she thinks, sending some funny feelings all over me. How can she be so cute all the time? I watch as her gorgeous green eyes go back and forth as if searching for some idea and lose myself in them. "Well since he won't be here anytime soon, wanna make breakfast with me?" she finally says. 

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Perfect! Then maybe we can watch some movies, play some games or something?" she continues.

"I don't see why not." I answer her, feeling a little better having her here. 

Without wasting another minute, she walks to the other side of the counter to prepare some pancakes. Unfortunately, with her one burnt hand, she struggles to make breakfast on her own, so I take over with the harder tasks. She tries to protest, but I refuse to hear any of it. We proceed to finish making breakfast as a team, and before we know it, we’re in front of the TV choosing what to watch. As we sit there eating breakfast together while watching a movie, I catch myself glimpsing at Alexia. Despite all this sadness surrounding me, the only thing I can wish for at this moment, is to have moments like this forever. “Do you mind if we cuddle while we watch the movie?” she suddenly asks me, forcing me to break out of my trance.

“Uh- yeah, sure, I don’t mind at all.” I reply to her. She smiles excitedly and scoots over next to me, laying her head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her and she snuggles in close as we watch the movie. The smell of her perfume captivates me, while the feeling of her soft hair charms me. I start playing with her hair as we watch the movie, and I don’t know what overcomes me when I ask her, “So what does your fiance think about you being here? I’m sure he must be worried about your hand too.”

She scoffs, “Michael doesn’t even know I’m here.”

I blankly stare at her in shock, “how come?”

She sighs regretfully, “It’s sad to say that I never really wanted to be with him, and that I’m only some eye candy for him. When we met a year ago, I figured I’d never meet someone, so I settled for him. He’s really arrogant and doesn’t really care about anyone but himself.”

“Sounds like someone we know.” I think to myself while rolling my eyes.

With a voice filled with shame, she admits, “Since Mackenzy and I were both homeschooled, I didn’t bother to meet anyone romantically. When I met Michael at that one of the many company parties my father threw, I figured I could do worse. When he proposed, I figured why not.”

“So-” I try to ask this as gently as possible, without sounding like I’m condemning her, “do- do you not love him?”

She opens her mouth as if to answer, and then closes it, repeating this a few more times before finally saying, “I’m not sure-” she pauses to think a little more, “I mean, I’ve grown to tolerate him and maybe even accept him as a potential partner. I wish I could be independent, and bold as you.” she gets up to face me, and I try my hardest to hide the blush that I can tell is forming on my cheeks. “The way you turned down my brother and never caved in.” I raise my eyebrows at her, “trust me, I know. He never shuts up about how you always play hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get.” I try to defend myself.

“I know, men are oblivious sometimes, and my brother is no exception.” she says with annoyance, “Sometimes I wish I could just be with another woman because it would be so much easier.” 

I nod in agreement and look away, feeling the undeniable tension building up in the room. “So why don’t you just leave him, maybe start fresh with someone else? Someone you’ll want to spend your life with?” I try to change the subject back to her fiance.

She shrugs and lays her head back down on my shoulder with a sigh, “I don’t know. I mean maybe I might grow to love him or something.”

“You only have this one life, you know? I wouldn’t want to waste this life with anyone I didn’t want to be around. Life is way too short to spend it miserable or unhappy.” I try to encourage her. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean-" she starts, "I just wouldn't know where to start, or what to say to him." 

"Don't rush to start the rest of your life. You could always just focus on you, and who knows, eventually you'll find someone who'll worship the ground you walk on-" she gets up again to look at me and I get mesmerized by the green of her eyes. "They'll worship everything about you-" I try to continue while hiding my blush, "everything from the look in your eyes, to the way you look when you sleep or wake-" the tension I feel in my gut is turning into knots and butterflies. 

I clear my throat and grab our plates, excusing myself to go clean up. I couldn't handle the tension of being alone and so close to her anymore. Despite her opening up about Michael, I have to respect her relationship. Who knows if she's even interested in me in that way? I need to get myself together. As I stand in the kitchen doing the dishes, my heart yearns for my dad again, reminding me that he's gone. I start crying and watch as my tears fall into the dishes in the sink.

After realizing I took too long, or maybe knowing me too well, Alexia comes in to check on me. She finds me crying at the sink and comes over to hold me. I wish I could find the strength to not need her, but I find too much comfort when she's near me. "You're going to be okay." she whispers in my ear. 

After a few minutes, she lets go and proceeds to help clean the kitchen to the best of her ability. Once we're done, I look over to her and ask her if she's checked her hand since she burned it. She sheepishly answers no, and I smile, telling her to follow me so I can check her hand. I lead her to the dining room and have her sit at the table while I go and grab our first aid kit. Once I quickly return, I could have sworn that her eyes lit up at the sight of me. I sit down in front of her and unwrap the bandage to check the burns. The burns appear to be blistering nicely, and she seems to be healing well. After cleaning her hand, I apply some ointment to it and wrap it up again to protect the blisters. I tell her that it should be fully healed within a week and give her instructions on how to care for it. She thanks me, and I look into her eyes. I'm not sure if it’s the lights playing tricks on my eyes, but I could swear her pupils are dilated. I clear my throat, before looking away and saying, "You're welcome- it was the least I could do after everything you've done for me."

She takes my hand and gives it a quick squeeze, sending chills down my spine. She looks at the time, and tells me she should be heading home, but adds that she’ll pick up some dinner or even lunch if I needed her to. I thank her for the offer, but tell her I’ll try to manage. I walk her out and as we say goodbye she gives me a tight hug and tells me she’s a call away if I ever needed her. I cherish this embrace for as long as I can before she lets go. Then I sadly watch as she drives down the driveway. Now, I’m left alone with my thoughts. I check the time again, and it’s almost noon; which means I still have at least five or six hours before the funeral director comes over. Suddenly, I’m overcome with exhaustion and all I want to do is go lay down in my bed. 

I head back upstairs to my room and lay down. As soon as my head meets the pillow, all I can do is lay there and feel numb and empty. Consumed by the overwhelming sadness, I can’t move under the crushing weight of the world. Without warning, Dr. Montgomery’s voice fills my head again, reminding me of everything that happened last night. “The cancer was far more aggressive than we anticipated- he’s no longer responsive to the treatments- he didn’t tell you, did he? I’m sorry- there’s nothing left for us to do- time of death: 2109. He didn’t tell you-” All I want to do is to scream to drown out the voices, but I can’t. I never realized that one could feel so much pain but also be so numb at the same time. Left alone with my thoughts, I lose the concept of time as the demons in my head torture me. 

Before I realize it, I’m getting a phone call from the funeral director. He tells me he’s on his way over and should be here in less than fifteen minutes. I thank him for the heads up and run to clean myself up quickly. I attempt to make myself look as presentable as possible and head downstairs just as he arrives at the front gate. I buzz him in and watch him drive up to the front of my house. With a warm welcome into the house, I direct him to the study and offer him some beverages or snacks before we begin. He politely declines and we get right down to business.

He starts by reading the rough draft of my father’s obituary. Tears start welling up in my eyes, as I try to hold it together. He asks me if there’s anything I’d like to add or any mistakes that I caught. I ask him to add that he’ll be laid to rest beside his loving wife, but other than that, it’s perfect. He jots down the notes and we proceed to plan the funeral service, wake and eventually the memorial service. He informs me that my father has set aside a large fund, which will be allocated for all these services, whatever remains shall be returned to me.

We set the date for this coming Saturday, October 11th, and the location will be at the historic First Congregational Church of Los Angeles. I opted to have an open invitation funeral, to allow entry for anyone wishing to pay their respects. The memorial service will be held at our house the following day. After approximately three hours, we have a rough idea of what will take place. He tells me that he will plan the details over the next coming days and will send me an email for approval before the day of the service. I thank him for his time and walk him out. As he drives away, the sudden realization of everything hits me all at once. My dad really is gone, and my life is completely different now. 

The grief hits me like a wall, and I go back upstairs to lay down. Laying in bed, I try to remind myself of happier times with my dad. I roll over and look at where Alexia laid last night, wishing I could have her here with me again. I find myself tossing and turning a lot throughout the night, but at some point my eyelids start feeling heavier. Maybe tonight will be the night I’m exhausted enough to fall asleep? I guess we’ll have to see.