Shrouds of Memory

MOTE Prompt Response

It was four weeks before Xander could bring himself to even consider cleaning out the master bedroom. He’d been living in the apartment above the pub for that time but sleeping in the guest room even as he cleaned out and redecorated the rest of the apartment. Standing outside the door, he rested his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath.

“Let’s do this,” he muttered to himself. He twisted the knob and gently pushed the door open. The room, a bit larger than the guest room, looked exactly as he remembered it. On the left, two dressers flanked the doorway into the en suite bathroom. To his right a king-sized bed, headboard pushed up against the far wall, took up most of the space. It wasn’t centered on the wall, rather pushed over to the left to allow room for a small comfy-looking chair on the right, while still leaving enough space for a person to walk around the bed on the far side. Xander smiled, remembering his mother sitting in the chair, reading a book in whatever her favorite genre was that week.

Now the chair was covered in a linen shroud where she should have been sitting. That was strange. Why was the chair the only covered piece of furniture in the room?

She used to cover it when she didn’t have time to read every day, Quill’s voice sounded in his head. She said she didn’t want to have to deal with cleaning off the dog hair every time she sat down.

Xander stared at the little barrel chair, tears welling up and threatening to fall. “I remember. But Apollo was gone at least a year before they died. Why is it still covered?”

I think she just never got out of the habit of pulling the cover over it when she left the room, Quill’s mental voice was quiet.

“Yeah, I can see that. Getting her to change a habit or adopt a new one was always a long process.” He smiled. “Okay. There’s no point in not using this room. I think Mom and Dad would want me to. So, let’s figure out what’s in here and what I’m facing in terms of cleaning it out.”

You’re right. They would want you to use this room, especially as this is now your pub. I can help you decide what you might want to keep, and what you can give away, or throw away, Quill said.

“Thanks, Quill. It’s hard to think about throwing anything of theirs away, but I know there are things that I don’t want or need, and they wouldn’t be upset if I gave them away… or even threw them away,” Xander said.

Xander started with clothing figuring that would be the easiest to sort out. He’d ask his siblings if they wanted any of the sweatshirts, t-shirts, or hoodies for the memories, but otherwise it would all go to charity or into the trash.

A couple of hours later, Xander scanned the room. He’d sorted all the clothing into three piles – one for him and his siblings, one to charity, and one to trash. He’d bagged up the charity stuff and started in on all the tchotchkes in the room. So. Many. Tchotchkes. He shook his head, smiling. His mother did love her souvenirs. A small statuette of a dragon gracing the windowsill caught his attention.

Hey Quill, is this you? Xander spoke into the depths of his head. He picked up the dragon and tilted it this way and that, admiring how the light reflected off the shiny green-gold scales.

What is that? Oh, yes. Your father picked that up on one of their trips and thought it resembled me. It is a good depiction, I must say.

Xander laughed. “Then in that case, I’ll just leave it right here. Your doppelganger can keep watch over the back patio and the path down to the beach.”

That was the idea, actually. I can use the figurine as a sort of remote camera when necessary. Of course, your modern electronic cameras cover more area than my mini-me.

Shaking his head, Xander glanced around the room once more. “Okay, I’m done for the day. I’ll pick this back up again tomorrow and take that stuff to the charity drop-off. Right now, I’m grabbing a beer and collapsing on the sofa. Want to join me in the living room?” he asked, referring to the twin of the pub portrait of Quill that hung over the fireplace in the upstairs apartment.

I’d be honored, Quill replied. Xander could hear a chuckle in the dragon’s mental voice.

******

Fiona Grey and I traded prompts this week. Her challenge to me was: Linen shrouds draped the chair where she should have been. Take a wander on over to More Odds Than Ends and let your brain refresh itself with a quick glimpse of other worlds.