Her frail smile

Was this heaven? If this was the great white beyond of angels singing praises twenty-four seven and in their dazzling white, then it was badly financed. He felt around the bed–it was narrow. First-off, the wall were painted blue and was already chipping away. The sun shone through the open window covered by hand-woven curtains used more as a necessity than for any luxury. At the opposite wall, etched there was a wardrobe; more like a wide thick rod penetrating and holding-fast to opposite end walls. This low-budget heaven with it's hand-made wardrobe contained skirts, skimpy tops, and dresses. Everything in blacks and whites. Was heaven gender neutral? Was he expected to wear those?

His other eyes stung and was still seeing only blackness. It seems this heaven doesn't contain healing powers on its menu. And wasn't there suppose to be an angel now assigned to him? He just left the darkness and had come into the light, but both seems the same.

A door opened and he heard shallow footsteps bounding through on what was probably wooden floorboards. Kept his ears to the ground and as the footsteps drew nearer, his muscles involuntarily clenched. The door knob to his right creaked, creaked and was forced open and he adjusted his weight to his right side to get a better view. A head poked in. A woman's head. Her eyes socket which she used to see him almost disappearing into her skull. The woman's lips began moving in an open and close circuit but Cobly didn't process a word, as I realizing this, the door swung in and the woman stepped inside fully.

She needed the bed more than him, Cobly was already thinking on seeing her full skeletal frame. Her clothes would give a stick a lot more shape than it was doing her. Now, he knew why there was a window, instead of an air conditioner, why there were shabby clothes in the wardrobe. This definitely was not even some low budget, ill-funded heaven, this was life. For only in this cruel world will there be a good woman this frail and without flesh.

She stood beside the narrow bed and smiled, and Cobly could see her bones sunken in where there should be cheeks and her jawline like razors.

"You have finally awoken up?" she said, her voice passing through like a whisper. It came and it was gone.

"Who the hell are you?" Cobly asked

Her mouth hung open.

"I'm sorry," he said, adjusting, "I didn't mean it like that."

She just stared and looked like she was lost completely.

"I swear to you that is not how I meant it. I was just confused. I thought I should be dead and am not. That kind of experience is a whole hell frightening."

He hesitated and immediately felt like he should say more to palpitate her, when she smiled. A full blown smile breaking out on her face.

"I was just playing with you," she said. "Trust me when I say I know what you are going through, at least half of it, and I am not going to pick offence for some bad words you said while your brain hasn't even picked on yet."

She laughed. The sound eeriely resembled a choking noise made by a person when a piece of bone has logged it's way up the throat. "And I am just so happy that you are awake," she exclaimed. "I thought I had lost another."

Cobly looked at her in thanks, his body unwinding. "Yeah, I thought I'd died too. I should be thanking you for being my guardian angel."

Her pale cheeks flooded red. She shook her hands and her head simultaneously in protest. "No, no, no, no, am not your guardian angel. Any one could have done what I did."

"And what did you do?"

"I made sure death didn't claim another."

"That's good."

Cobly adjusted and his body movement beckoned on her. She helped him sit up and placed a pillow behind him.The bandage around his stomach tightened. Adjusted him, before sitting on the little space the bed offered.

"Looks like I've been a burden for too long..."

"More like a companion," she replied truthfully. "You kept me busy and that's a good thing because normally, am just filled with nonsense thoughts and generally useless."

Cobly examined his bandages–the one wrapped neatly round his stomach, the one wrapped securely around his head. "I don't think just anyone could do this."

Her hand trailed Cobly's stomach through his bandage and Cobly body felt his body tense up without warning. He whimpered and immediately followed it with a cough.

She looked with concern, then levelled her gaze at where his eyes were concentrated on–her hand rubbing his stomach through his bandage. Her cheeks flooded red. Her head bobbing sideways and hands following simultaneously, she retreated her hand back to join the other on her laps. "I'm sorry."

"No it's not you."

"Mhm. You know, I thought you will be okay by now. It's been long."

"How long?" Cobly asked.

"Three weeks."

"That long?"

She smiled contented and asked: "you don't look suprised?"

Cobly smiled. "Like you, out in the world, I am useless."

"Then why don't we make ourselves useful in here."

Cobly nodded.

****

Cobly stayed at her house for four more weeks. The first week, his legs still felt like a new born baby. He couldn't move around much for her fear the stitches will bust open and he will died from loss of blood. She took care of him, helped him to the toilet, fed him. He was basically an invalid. He got to learn her name though, it was Sarah.

The second week:

"So you are alone in this house?"

"Oh!" she said smiling, her hand against her chest, her eyes already edging in a smile. "Mister Cobly, do you wish to do me harm?"

Cobly laughed. "Do you always tease people?"

"For a long time, it has been only you." She took her time wrapping the bandage carefully around his head. And this house wasn't mine," she continued, "It belonged to my husband."

"So you are married?" Cobly asked. It has been a question he knew demanded asking for a while now but refrained to avoid being nosy, after all, she hasn't been digging bones about him.

"Something like that," she replied.

"I don't understand."

Sarah held his gaze. "If you consider me still married to a dead man, then I guess I am still married."

His eyebrows raised. "Oh, his dead."

"I seem to like the pouring emotions in your voice."

Cobly cleared his throat. "Oh," he said, placing emphasis on each word, "he is dead!"

She laughed so hard and began wheezing. Cobly leaned forward in concern to help, she pushed him back gently.

"I like that you didn't begin to pity me."

Cobly nodded.

"And for that," she added, "I like you."

Cobly nodded, smiling.

And so their illusion of peace began.