Comforting Touch

Everything’s going to be just fine. The phrase had become a mantra to him. It was how he coped with things going on in front of him. This time, it was death. He wasn’t so sure that his chant was going to provide solace for the uncertainties in this instance. Her face reminded him of a puppet he’d seen once, a marionette actually. It was hanging in a shop window in Prague amongst several others with similarly accentuated features. Bright lips and strong noses brought the expressions of the limp arms and legs to life in his mind. He stood in front of the window for nearly an hour imagining the miniature characters bounce around and converse jovially in his mind. He was doing it again now. He was imagining his mother dancing in the kitchen like she had done so regularly. The smell of pot roast and potatoes lingering in the nearly stagnant air, she would disrupt it in a burst from the sink full of clanking plates. Her rump would start to bounce, one side then the other. She’d swing around while gyrating her hips, lifting, almost involuntarily, each bare foot off the linoleum. She’d bounce toward him with a grin on her face that said he was going to dance too.

None of that motion and happiness was there now. She laid still, eyes closed and painted, her lips drawn tightly. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and told him that she was in a better place. He didn’t believe it. She led a good life here. She never complained and was one of the happiest people he’d ever met. The idea of heaven seemed like a bore actually, sitting and praising some mysterious form all day, always wearing the same thing, and nothing ever happening. Here, there were adventures.

She had introduced him to the excitement of the world. That’s why he’d adopted the phrase; it calmed his nerves. Not that he wanted to be completely calm. “What’s the fun if it doesn’t scare you a little?” She’d told him that when he was trying to decide whether to ride the rope swing into the river. Brown and cold, the water didn’t seem very inviting, but she was right. It was fun, and mostly because it made his heart race. He placed his hand on top of hers even though they were as uninviting as the water had been. He didn’t put it there for the same reason. He hoped it would be comforting, because his mantra wasn’t.