It was strange, Ava thought to herself as she watched the plain pine box containing her mother lowered into the dusty ground, she was technically an orphan now.
Her t-shirt stuck uncomfortably to her back as ponderous beads of sweat rolled lazily down her spine, collecting at the waistband of her threadbare jeans. The dark tendrils of hair which had escaped her messy bun, were plastered to her neck as the raging inferno of the midday sun beat down on her unprotected head.
Who the hell thought getting buried at midday was a good idea?
She squinted and tried to focus on the monotonous monotone of the preacher. Even with her sunglasses protecting her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, she was still seeing spots and weird reflections of light.
The coffin hit the hard, compacted ground with a thud and Ava shifted uneasily. This time it had nothing to do with the heat. Her mother was really dead, this was it, her eternal resting place. She reached down inside herself for something, anything, that felt different.
Nothing.
Well no, not exactly nothing. She felt sad, of course she did, but the bald-faced truth of it was that although her mom was dead, nothing had really changed. She didn’t feel any different which only served to confirm one uncomfortable fact. That even when her mom had been alive, Ava had always been alone.
Caroline Annabeth Wallace, or rather ’Serenity’ as she’d always been known to her friends, had lived life very unapologetically on her own terms. She’d blown from town to town, commune to commune, with all the turbulent grace and unrelenting ferocity of a summer storm, on a whim, and with no regard for the daughter she dragged along in her wake.
Her mother had loved her, Ava had never doubted it, she’d simultaneously both baffled and annoyed her and she may not have always understood her, but she’d loved her none the less.
Ava rolled her shoulders uncomfortably; her skin felt like it was melting off her body in the relentless Arizona heat. She glanced down at the small plaintive whine of her dog Bailey, who sat at her side, pressing her heavy body against her legs.
‘Alright girl,’ she murmured under her breath as she stroked her head, ‘not long now.’
The droning sermon ran on and on. Like the opening credits of Star Wars, it felt like it was never going to end, and no one was really paying attention. Bailey gave a dissatisfied sniff and trotted off, stretching out under the scant shade of the nearest tree, her long pink tongue lolling out of her mouth as she panted heavily.
Knowing she wouldn’t go far Ava once again turned her attention back to the mismatched assembly of characters pretending to listen to the eulogy, as if it were the most riveting thing in the world and they weren’t all stoned out of their minds. A riot of tie dye assaulted the eye, along with beads, bare feet and Birkenstocks. Everywhere Ava looked was long hair and sweating bodies, overlaid with the unmistakable scent of weed, which hung over the proceedings like a miasma.
Well, Ava thought absently, at least her mom had gone out the same way she lived; high, at one with nature and the very center of attention.
She let out a slow breath and blinked the sweat from her eyes. It was typical that her mother had managed to die during one of the hottest months on record, thank you climate change, but then again, her mom had always loved the bright blazing sunshine. The hotter the better as far as she’d been concerned, unlike her daughter who’d always preferred cooler, overcast, moodier weather.
Ava supposed it reflected their personalities perfectly. Her mother had always been a glass half full kind of girl, whereas Ava didn’t have a glass, or if she did, hers would not only have been very definitely empty but also possibly smashed on the ground with someone stealing the pieces.
The reading finally concluded, and the mourners shuffled forward to toss brightly colored, wilted flowers onto the coffin. Ava waited until they slowly began to drift away one by one, in pairs and small groups. Stepping forward she stared down into the open grave, scuffing the toe of her frayed sneakers in the dusty ground as she frowned, at a loss as to what to say.
‘Bye mom,’ she murmured finally, ‘say hi to dad for me.’
Her fist tightened around a limp bunch of wildflowers she’d stopped at the side of the road and