Summer-time Writing

Scenery. Cemetary.
The couple there are not dating.
They could be in love.
They could be having an affair.
Be creative.
The last sentence should be 'I should've known'
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Kneeling in front of the icy gray gravestone I dust away the snow with my mitted hand. I smile weakly as I take in the names before me. Two. Buried right next to each other, just as they would have liked it. The green grass and summer flowers long since faded into the rhythm of winter. Everything seems to be sleeping, perhaps even the people long put away in the warm wooden beds under me.

“Hi Daddy.” My breath creates a cloud of warmth in the desolate place. It moves away from me and disappears as its warmth is taken by the air around it much before its time. A dark bird flies overhead as I watch my little cloud disappear. I don’t dare speak another word.

My mother died long before my father, long before I could even get to know the woman so many say I resemble. It is her I have to thank for the raven black hair and equally dark eyes. Both of my parents contributed to the pale skin. At least that’s what I can gather from pictures. My father had little to do with my physical appearance but everything to do with the way I was brought up. He chose the schools, the teachers, and the nannies. My privileged and trapped life.

I can feel his eyes on me and I don’t even have to look back. I can imagine what he looks like standing there. Tall figured draped in black with an untimely tan. Mr. tall, dark, and handsome stands just feet behind me, like every Tuesday. As soon as I turn to see him I know he’ll begin to walk away. Usually that’s okay, but today is different. Today I want him to stay. I close my eyes and contemplate what to do next. I’ve never spoken a word to the man. All I know is that his hair is a close resemblance to pure strands of gold and his eyes are brown. I know what he looks like, but nothing about who he is.

“Do you miss them very much?” His voice startles me but I keep my eyes close. Smooth and deep. It fits.

“Of course.” I sigh and stand up. I guess the both of us have decided to cross this bridge. Still, I cautiously stay facing the gravestone. Charles Hasting and Marie Lenner Hasting are etched deeply into the glossy stone. We’re both at a loss for words now, but I hear the crunching of snow as he gets closer. “Did you know them?”

“No.” His concise answer draws a breath from me. How many days had I wondered why he always stood there, staring at the same stone I did every Tuesday; my beginning of the week tradition since I was a little girl. I hear an intake of breath from behind me. “Not entirely.”

“So you did?” I whisper quietly. The graveyard is quiet and empty except for us, excluding the birds. The white blanket stretches as far as I can see it. The gray bumps revealing the lives that were once lived in extreme comfort. Only the rich are buried here.

“Not enough for it to make sense for me to be here.” He has a slight accent that I can’t place. That’s strange for me, not knowing something as simple as that. My father taught me better. My mind tries to analyze everything around it. It is something I have been trained to do since I was young.

“Then why are you?” I stare over their gravestone and at a car pulling into the parking lot. I take note of every detail about the car. I see a young man get out of the driver’s side: dark hair, light complexion. He moves around the car in a swift manner to open the door for an elderly woman. I drop my gaze back down to the gravestone.

“I had to see you, Ivana.” He says back quietly even closer to me than before. I didn’t hear him move at all. It must be a bad day for me. It doesn’t even register for a moment that he somehow knows my name and I don’t know his. It must be a really bad day. I turn to face him with my eyes narrowed.

“How do you know my name?” I stare into his face at a close proximity for the first time. Dark eyes, golden eyelashes, and an emotionless face greet my eyes. All he does is stare back taking in my face the way I am his. Then it clicks. I begin to back away. The way he seems to be able to disappear within seconds of being found. The silent movements.

“Ivana…” He whispers and reaches out to grab my arm. “You remember now, no?” His eyes search mine and I know what he’s hoping for. A flash of recognition, a remembering, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Instead I give him his name.

“Andrew…” I glare back at the man who I knew as a boy. He hasn’t seemed to age a bit even though he was older than me. Older, better, and accepted. I try to pull my arm away but he has to strong of a hold.

“You remember.” He smiles, but I can see it’s forced. He’s handsome, no doubt, as he always has been. They use it to his advantage. I look around to find the others. “Now, Now…” he says tightening his grip on my arm “no need to run, Ivana. You’re safe.” I look into his dark chocolate eyes. My mind is begging to believe him. My heart skips a beat at the word of whose meaning I’ve never known. He reads my face, my mind, and then it begins. I feel his body prepare to move. I anticipated this.

I pull my arm free and begin to run. His face is shocked at my easy get away, however he is faster than I am. I knew that. I come to a halt at the base of a tree looking desperately for some sort of weapon. At least I’m hoping that’s what he thinks I’m doing.

“Ivana! Stop it!” He yells and the full accent hits me. He’s been in Russia. I bend down to scavenge through the snow. He stops short and smirks. “Stuck now, huh princess.” I try my best to cover my actions but keep my face clear of any emotion. “You know, you’re father always did like me better.” He chatters on.

“Don’t you dare speak about my father!” I scream at him and throw the snow in my right hand. Andrew knows me well enough to know I’m right handed.

“Why ever not? Shouldn’t a man be able to talk about the criminals he terminated?” He asks me with a sneer. I try not to let it show but the look on his face, that sick satisfaction, reveals to me that my shock is in my eyes. He walks closer. I shove him away, but he grabs my arm all over again. “I don’t want to hurt you sweetheart, in fact when we were younger all I wanted to do was protect you.”

“You’re lying!” I feel my left hand fumbling around. He looks into my eyes. I stare back into his. I just need a few more seconds.

“I loved you Ivana.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word!” I scream at him. I use all my strength and push him away. He staggers backward before regaining his balance. A cruel look overcomes his face.

“You’ll pay for that one.” I stand perfectly still as he comes closer. I can see it in his eyes, he won’t hurt me. Not before he gets what he wants. What he’s wanted since we were little. The little voice of tiny Andrew rings in my mind, ‘Just one kiss Ivana! One!’ I watch him advance. He grabs my face and looks into it. “You owe me this much.” He whispers and then he does it. He kisses me. I’m ready.

My hand moves quickly from behind my back hidden by my flowing black jacket. I quickly complete the maneuver my father drilled me in when I was younger. Andrew’s gasp tells me that I have done the deed correctly. He staggers backward, his hands around the knife. He looks at me in the eyes and smiles.

“Charles’ daughter for sure.” I stare at his face allowing the tears to come to my eyes. He falls gracefully, like a dying gazelle. He looks down at the knife once more then back to my face. “I should’ve known.”