Bridge Work

As she came up to her grave she was not surprised to see her sister there pushing a baby carriage. Dart gave a surprised bark, uncertain what she was seeing in the dim light. Her sister turned. There was enough light from a distant street light and the brightening sky. Her sister recognized her, well, recognized the man she'd met walking his dog the afternoon before, whose son'd once dated her daughter, who she thought she'd seen with a teenager the evening before.

"Morning Tom," her sister said, none too friendly.

"Morning," she replied, "You're up early."

"So are you," her sister said shortly, starting to push the carriage away.

"Yup, I have to give Dart as long a walk as I can. She's gonna be inside all day, like yesterday, poor hound. All day conference and then dinner at work. Team building. She'll be inside till I get home around 8."

"That's when you got home yesterday?"

"Well, around 9 actually. Why?" she saw her sister's face relax.

"Oh nothing."

"So why are you out here in the wee hours with the ghoulies, ghosties and long-leggedy beasties?" she asked her sister.

"Oh," her sister said with a light attractive laugh, "My daughter called me half an hour ago. At 5. She's lucky I didn't throw the phone in the trash. Baby Trudy's been up all night. Wouldn't sleep. My daughter said if I didn't get my grandmotherly ass over and take the kid, I was gonna stop being the mother of a mother and start being the mother of a felon. I got there, plunked the kid in the stroller, I figured she could wail all she wanted out here with only the dead to wake. She conked out as soon as we hit the sidewalk. Exhausted, the poor thing."

It was at that moment that she let go. He found himself standing in the dim cemetery, the woman with the stroller next to him. He turned wildly and would've fallen had he not desperately clutched a stone.

"Tom!" the woman exclaimed shocked and concerned.

"I've had such a dream, but it wasn't a dream at all."

"Tom you're not well. I'll call help." she reached for her purse to get her phone.

"No there's no need. It was just a dream. What a dream. Don't worry, I'll be OK in a second. It was like nothing else, but it will be gone in a minute. God."

She stood watching as he looked at the ground and tryed to collect himself. The baby's round sleeping face was turned to the side, all you could see was a pale fat oval surrounded by knit hood and blankets.

His dog tugged at the leash, yearning towards the little clump of oaks on the rise where she suspected some early rising squirrels to be up to no good.

"Really, you don't look good," she persisted, "I think I should call 911. I can worry about your dog. Walk her to your house or take her home with me. I've managed dogs and strollers before."

"Thanks," he said, tugging at Dart's leash. "But really I'll be alright now."

"Let me walk you home at least," she said. "I'm worried."

"OK" he said and they started out. The stroller rattled softly. Dart reluctantly pulled along backwards, denied yet again the object of her desires.

At his front walk, he said, "Thanks," then, "Would you like some coffee. I can make it."

She paused. "OK it'd be good and someone should keep an eye on you. But if young Trude wakes up, I'll have to beat it. Can you lift the front of the stroller? We'll carry her highness up the stairs and if we're like flights of angels, maybe she'll stay conked out."

Inside she said, "You really are out of it this morning, the coffee's all made."

He saw that this was so.

"Sit, please," he said, getting the mugs. "It may be foul, I may not've measured things right as I must've made it in my sleep."

The woman wandered over to the table where his laptop lay open, cycling through his collection of photographs. "I'd be happy to check in on your dog during the day," she observed, "I work in town. It'll make you feel easier in your all day team building session."

He was about to ask, "What do you mean?" when he found his voice saying "Sure, that'd be great."

She touched the mouse and the screen saver vanished.

"My God," she exclaimed looking at what was open on the laptop, "I don't believe it."

"What?" he asked. She looked very strange. It was his turn to be concerned.

"I don't believe it. What you've got open here."

"What?" he asked again, coming beside her. He looked at the white window of text without recognition.

She was staring at him. He opened his mouth to say "I have no idea how that got there" when in fact he heard himself declare, "A friend emailed it to me."

"It's just too amazing. This was my Dad's favorite hymn. He found it in an old hymnal someone'd stacked in a closet in the church basement, they'd been there since who knows when, the 30s anyway he said. Couldn't bring themselves to throw 'em out when they got new ones so they hid 'em away. Dad was the choir director forever. He got the choir to sing through a bunch of 'em and he really liked this one. He copied it and kept inserting it in the program until the congregation just gave up and liked it too. We still sing it. Probably the only place it's sung in the country, forgotten everywhere else. I'm not so keen on the words, but its fun to sing. We really boom out the refrain, the men come in just a fraction early on 'When' and really shout it. It's a lot of fun."

He bent and as he read she looked away and sang in a pleasant alto:

"Shed not a tear o'er your child's early bier, When I am gone, I am gone! Smile when the slow tolling bell you shall hear, When I am gone, I am gone!

Plant you a rose that shall bloom o'er my grave, When I am gone, I am gone! Sing a sweet song, such as angels may have, When I am gone, I am gone!

Praise ye the Lord that I'm freed from all care, Pray ye the Lord that my joys you shall share, Look up on high and believe that I'm there, When I am gone, I am gone."

She said, "Even after, even after my sister's death we'd do it, though sometimes he'd stop singing and just stand there. When he'd retired and was drinking he'd sing it too, till he couldn't remember the words and would just like well warble 'I am gone' over and over."

She didn't see him shudder.

"You know," she said after a minute, "Memory is overrated. I'd give anything to be able to forget him from those last years. It's forgetting that's important."

------------------------------------

"Welcome back," Steve's voice came lazily from beside her.

From the exhaustion of her body, the crushed feeling in her chest, the ache in her thighs, she knew what she'd been doing for the last few hours. She lay on her side, facing away from him. Dawn was quite bright, the mist blanketed the swamp, hugging the creek.

"Let's," he began.

"OK," she sighed without enthusiasm.

She felt his hand on her hip and she rolled obligingly onto her back. Instead of his weight she felt him kiss her breasts, kiss down her belly and crouch down in the sleeping bag. She felt moistened fingers on her cunt and then his tongue probing into her.

She squirmed and let out a surprised gasp. She lifted her head off the pile of trash that served her as a pillow and looked down at him.

Steve lifted his head in turn and grinned up at her, his fingers keeping her sex lips parted. "Thank your pal, honey," he said, he dipped his head and licked slowly up her, his tongue circling each bit, his eyes looking up at her along her chest the while. "He said that it might be a dream, but that was no excuse for not doing it right. Said he was curious to know what all the fuss was about. Said I'd get nothing more from him if I didn't follow his directions to the letter."

He grinned again, turned his face down and tongued and sucked her clit. She gasped again and put her hand down into his hair.

He looked up, "Can't say I care for it much, but he seemed to like it. He was shouting and twisting, called me Donna even."

"If that guy and my sister ever come paddling up the creek, I'll help you tip and dunk 'em. Now get busy down there," she said, then added, "Asshole."