Page 49 of Roses and Skulls

“Am I angry now?” I ask the mirror.

The tears streaming down my face answer my question.

I’m so sad, grandpa. So sad.

The chimes pull me away from the mirror. The melody draws me outside and I fall to the ground, sobbing when I see all of my chimes hanging from trees and shepherd hooks around the property.

A gust of wind whips my hair around my face as the chimes play a tune in unison. The sound lifting my broken soul.

I cover my mouth with both hands not wanting to break the spell. His voice infiltrates the present. Memories, or whispers from Heaven? I’m not sure.

“This is where I keep all my treasures and my secrets,” he tells me in his best pirate voice. He digs in the dirt with his fake hook hand.

I crouch down beside him, squealing in delight when he pulls out a shiny gold box. He wipes off the dirt and turns the latch, revealing all the things that mean the most to him.

He smiles wide, tugging on his beard with one hand, his other holding a picture so we can look at it together. “This… this right here was one of the best days of my life.”

I crawl onto his lap and take the photo from him. “Is this mama?” I ask.

“No, that little burrito is you.” His warm, rich chuckle shakes us both.

I set the photo back in the box and pull out a book. “What’s this, papa?” I hand it to him and dig right back in his box of wonders before he has a chance to answer.

“This,” he shakes the book in front of my face, “holds all of my secrets. Sometimes, there are things you can’t tell anyone. So, I write them down here.”

My gaze drifts down the path now lined with chimes. My feet follow and when I’m standing under the tree, I let my eyes trail over the valley below. I take a deep breath and listen.

“Isn’t it bad to keep secrets?” I ask softly, lifting a pocket knife out of the box.

My grandpa wraps his hand around mine, helping me pop the blade out. The sun glints off it, momentarily blinding me.

“If they’re secrets that might hurt someone, then that is bad but sometimes, secrets can protect those we love.”

My gaze drifts around till it lands on a sturdy stick. I launch myself at it and begin digging in the dirt.

“Skulls protect what’s theirs. And occasionally, that involves burying the truth.”

“Does mama know where you burry your secrets?” I ask.

He takes the knife from me, closing it before wrapping his fist around it.

“Your mama is the one I’m protecting. I would do anything to protect her.” He looks down at me, thumping me on the end of my nose. “And you.”

“But I get to know where your secrets are?”

He grins at me. “Because I trust you, baby girl.”

I nod enthusiastically as I jump off his lap and jump around him. “I will help you protect mama. I’ll never tell her where your secrets are.”

Grandpa sets the knife and the book back carefully in the box after he riffles through the other odds and ends he has hidden there.

“I have a secret too,” I tell him. He raises his eyes to me, running his fingers through his beard.

“Do you want to know what it is?”

He nods, so I go over and cup my hands over my mouth and lean into his ear. “I have a secret boyfriend.”

Grandpa pushes me away from him. Worry pulling his brows together. “Who?” his eyes dart back and forth over mine.

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