Remember...

Cold... and it rains and rains and rains.

Time seems to have come to halt in days and days of uncertainty.
You're left alone, on your own at your grandmother's house.
Everybody gone. No one to tell you a thing. Days and days of awaiting. You still dont know what's going on. Until you insist that they take you there. They agree, reluctantly.

Vaguely you remember narrow corridos and people in white. Quick steps and whispers and you are ushered into a room where he lays on a narrow bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. You walk up closer and take his hand that is cold and lays motionless in yours. You look into the sunken eyes. They stare back at you and the look he gives you is deep, and full os sadness. Those eyes that seem to be talking to you. You smile and press his hand and for a second feel the grasp of the cold fingers.
You want to speak to him, say something, but they won't let you speak. They won't
let you stay long and soon they take you away. And again left alone with the kid and it rains and rains and rains. You sit by the window and wait. For a word. For a call, for someone to knock at the door bringing you some news.

Suddenly the rains stop and it clears out into a bright morning. The sun is out warming the wet ground. That day you step out into the sun and look at the sky with hope. Something has to happen today. Something good. You look forward with anticipation but all you see is pressed lips and silent glances avoiding you. Something's not right. They're trying to hide something from you. They talk in whispers and turn away from you. Suddenly your heart shrinks in fear, in a dark premonition. You're restless. You want to ask. You want an answer. You have to know. But you[re trapped indoors. From room to room in and out you go with a sickening pain in your stomach, and then you pick up the phone and dial the number you know so well. Long calls and a strange voice on the other side. In the background you hear your mother crying. A shiver down your spine and you hang up without saying a word.
You don't need to be told anymore. Now you know.

You rush out into the street and break into running as if trying to escape from what you already know. You run and run until your heart is in your throat and you can no longer breathe. Tears burn your eyes, you choke with sobs. You fall on the grass and start shaking violently.Unable to see. Unable to understand.
But you know what has happened.

They come to tell you. They find it hard to speak.
"I already know." They nod.
"Why!" They look away.
"You need to be strong," is what they tell you. "You must not cry. It will upset your mother."

Silence. And you force yourself to swallow your tears. She must not see. That will upset her...

People come and go. They approach you to press your hand but you don't look up. They give you hugs and pat your shoulder, they speak to you, but what they say doesn't make sense. Suddenly you are frozen. You are drawn into yourself behind a shield and look around with dry tired eyes. Who are those people? Why are they here? Why won't they leave? What difference will their being here make anyway?

You refuse pointblank to be present at the funeral. They let you, but never leave you unattended for even a minute. "The children must be taken care of." As if you care. All you want is to find a place where you can hide, curl into a ball and cry. But you
mustn't.

A week later you return home where nothing seems to have changed. His books, his tools, the desk. Seems that the doorbell will ring any moment and he will come in. If not today then tomorrow. If not tomorrow then one day, maybe next week, maybe a week after that...

Now you sleep in your mother's bed. She holds you very very tight at night and cries quietly when she thinks you're asleep. Sometimes you're awakened by her sobs and you lay in the dark pressing her hand. But you don't cry.

You still don't understand, but you dare not speak about it.
Soon you no longer even try to understand. But you don't ever cry.