****
He worked on it for most of the day and when it was done, he stood back and looked it over. Donnie was pretty sure his brother would be impressed.
He placed the lid on and carried the completed box to the house. Setting it down on the porch, he stopped for the night. He would finish the other half of his task tomorrow.
Going into the house, he washed up, made himself a sandwich and sat down at the kitchen table. The TV was off, his mother being the only one who watched it, and the house was quiet. The loneliness Donnie felt with the loss of his mother began to suffocate him. He was now completely isolated. First Billy, and now Momma, had left him. He had no friends, no other family and no job. Just Billy and the responsibility to help him rest.
Sadness washed over him. It helped he could still visit his brother but that didn’t stop the pain he felt inside. Donnie got up and moved to the couch, lying down on his side, his eyes closed. He held his stomach and began to moan. A physical pain in his chest made him rock back and forth, tears filling his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he lay there but, after a while, Donnie wiped his sleeve across his face and got up. He needed to get out of the house and decided now was as good a time as any to look for Momma’s burial site. Going out the back door and around the garage, he stood looking over the back part of the property. Trees lined the back fence row and Texas scrub had grown up through the fences on both the east and west. There was a small rise behind the garage that had a blackjack oak towering above.
“You’re gonna rest there, Momma. Close to me, so I can visit anytime.”
The thought that his mother would remain close by helped to calm the storm raging inside. He would bury her tomorrow and then be ready to focus on the job he had to do for his brother.
Chapter 4
Donnie was up early again the next morning. The day promised to be hot and the job ahead of him grueling. Toast and orange juice served as breakfast. After filling a rinsed out quart milk jug with cold water, he went to the barn.
Hanging on the wall was a pick, which he took down, and over in the corner was an old shovel. He examined the handle on the shovel and decided it needed reinforcement. Several wrappings of duct tape satisfied him the shovel would hold up.
Walking out to the rise behind the garage, Donnie found himself in a surprisingly good mood. He had a task, an important one, and that had always made him feel better. A task allowed him to focus, to close off emotion, to sweat out some of the pain in his life.
Donnie removed his shirt, tied it around his head in a bandana to absorb sweat, and made a mental rectangle in the dirt. Starting at the base of the rectangle, he plunged the pick into the dirt.
Once, twice, three and then four times, he would raise and plunge the pick into the dry Texas ground. Next, he took the shovel and removed the dirt he had broken loose. The process was then repeated. Over and over, pounding the dirt, pounding out his pain. It was slow, hot and tedious but he needed it.
Donnie took frequent breaks but was driven to keep going by the thought of his mother resting there. She would be at peace on their land and then Donnie could focus on bringing peace to Billy.
By four in the afternoon, Donnie judged the hole to meet the needs of his mother’s coffin. He sat in the shade of the blackjack oak and drank from his third quart of water. It seemed to go down his throat and directly out through his pores. He stayed until he felt strong enough to bring Momma out of the house.
The box he’d built was placed next to the grave with the lid leaning against it. Inside he’d laid his Momma’s favorite quilt and a needlework pillow that had both her boys name’s on it. Donnie went inside to his mother’s room, gathered her into his arms and carried her out to where the box was. As gently as he could, he laid her in the homemade casket. He pulled the quilt up around her and put the pillow under her head.
Going over to the rose bush where she’d cut a rose each time she visited Billy, he clipped one for her and laid it on her chest.
Staring down at her, the tears began again as he prepared to place the lid over her. He would never see her face again.
After saying a small prayer, he willed himself to slide the lid over the box and hammer in some nails to seal it. Using some rope, he managed to lower the box into the hole. Taking the shovel, Donnie prepared to start pushing dirt back into the hole.
“Goodbye, Momma. I love you. I sure am going to miss you. Rest now.”
Donnie shoveled dirt until after dark, covering the box completely. He sat down at the base of the grave, resting his head in his hands, while he stared at the fresh piled dirt. It was done. Momma could rest.
****
The sun blinded Donnie as he rolled onto his back. He covered his face with his hand and tried to figure out where he was. It took him a minute before he realized he had fallen asleep at the foot of Momma’s grave.
He got up and tried to stretch. Every muscle complained. He was sore from the work but his mind felt refreshed. He brushed himself off and went in the house. His stomach growled as he rummaged through the fridge looking for something to eat. A tub of plain yogurt, with some maple syrup on it, would have to do. After wolfing it down, he thought to look at the clock. He was surprised to see it was almost noon.
Donnie spent the remainder of the afternoon picking up the tools, cleaning around his mother’s grave, and finally, making the cross that he stuck in the ground by her head. Next, he took a flat board, and using his pocket knife, scratched his Momma’s name and the dates of her birth and death onto it. He held it away from him and studied it.
It will do fine. Momma would like it.
He nailed it to the cross and sat at the foot of the grave while he watched the sun sink behind the horizon. It reminded him of what they would do each night on the porch together and he was glad she was close enough for them to still share it. When it finally disappeared, and dusk started to turn to dark, he stood.
“Goodnight Momma. I’m going to see Billy now.”
****
Donnie sat on the ground by the stone with Billy’s name.
“Hi Billy, I did what you suggested. Momma is buried behind the garage. She’ll not be alone there, and I can visit whenever I want. We watched the sunset together tonight.”
Billy smiled as if reacting to something.
“I’d like that too. Maybe when we’re done, I can have you moved next to Momma. I’m sure she would be happy to have you near.”
The rose his mother had left several days before had blown into the grass. It was wilted but Donnie picked it up and put it back on Billy’s name.
“Okay, Billy. I understand. The rooms are the priority and I’ll work to have them done as quickly as possible. I know what size and shape but what should I put in each room?”
Donnie nodded his head up and down several times.
“Got it. We’ll have this done soon and you can rest. I can feel everything is going to be fine.”
Donnie laughed out loud.
“Hey! This is different and besides, that was a long time ago. I won’t make the same mistake again, not this time. I’ll keep my facts straight and won’t let the wrong person know what’s going on.”
Donnie glanced at his watch.
“I gotta go, Billy. There’s a lot to do and I need to pick up supplies. Love you. I’ll be back soon.”
Donnie turned and walked back to the van. He pushed the usual sadness away by focusing on the things he needed at the store. If he got them all tonight, he could start building first thing in the morning.