A Raisin in the Sun: After Story

Travis exited the flower shop carrying a bouquet of assorted flowers in one hand. The dinky little shop sat on the same corner that his old childhood home had once stood. He remembered the cramped little apartment like he'd been there yesterday. With the shape that it had been in when he'd left it, he wasn't surprised that they'd torn it down.

Now, of course, he lived and worked in downtown New York. Currently twenty years of age, he worked as a computer engineer for several different companies along the east coast. The job paid well, but the travel kept him busy most of the time. He'd been lucky to get a day off for today's occasion.

His ten-year-old sister, Hope, followed him onto the street corner. He hailed a cab, and it came screeching to a stop in front of them. He stopped and waited for her to climb into the back of the taxi, then followed her, shutting the door behind him.

"Clybourne Park, please," he told the cab driver.

As the cab weaved in and out of traffic, Travis noticed Hope staring blankly out the window. He nudged her arm gently.

"You ok, sis?" he asked.

She looked up at him, and he noticed tears gathering in her big, brown eyes. She seemed to notice them too, and she quickly wiped them on her coat sleeve.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, "I just can't believe it's been a whole year since…" her voice trailed off. Travis understood. He couldn't believe it either.

The cab entered Clybourne Park, and the driver slowed and asked "Where to from here?"

"Just drop us off at the next corner, please," replied Travis.

The cab driver did as he was asked. Hope and Travis climbed out of the cab at the first corner of the neighborhood. Travis paid the man, and thanked him for his service.

Clybourne Park was a clean, quiet little neighborhood. Almost every single yard was occupied by a garden. The neighbors were all out and about, tending to their lawns or holding friendly conversations on their porches. Travis wondered as he walked how today could be such a sad day with so much cheerful activity.

He and Hope wandered through the rows of houses. The bright, August was high in the sky. Every now and then Hope and Travis would pass under a tree, providing a moment of shade. Today shouldn't be such a beautiful day. This was the saddest day of the year for the Younger grandchildren. The incident that this day marked shouldn't allow for such bright and happy scenery. But, then again, Travis supposed that Mama would prefer it this way.

Soon enough, he and Hope came to a part of the neighborhood that was not occupied by residents. In fact, there were no houses here. Instead, a field of tombstones housed those who had lived here in life, and rested here in death.

The fence enclosing the cemetery was made of the same white-washed wood as most of the houses in Clybourne Park. It looked especially clean and bright today, as though someone had taken care to repaint it recently. The grass between the tombstones was freshly cut, and shone bright green in the afternoon sun. This was a pretty place to be put to rest. Mama had lived just long enough to have the privilege of being buried here.

The Younger grandchildren entered the cemetery through an intentional gap between fence posts. Mama's grave sat in the center of the cemetery in an empty patch of grass reserved for all future members of the Younger family. Her tombstone was a simple cross shape with a copper plaque drilled into the center of it. Etched into the copper were the words;

In Loving Memory

Lena (Mama) Younger

1888 – 1968

Ivy vines had started to grow around the base of the tombstone. Travis was reminded of the ivy plant that Mama had always fussed over when he was a boy. He remembered the day that he and his family had moved into the Clybourne house, and the first thing Mama had done was plant the sad little plant in a proper garden.

"You just wait," she'd declared, "before long, that little ole plant gonna decorate the entire front of the house, like the houses in Europe."

Travis smiled and swallowed back tears at the fond memory of his grandmother. He looked down at the flowers in his hand, and handed them to Hope. She knelt down and laid them at the foot of the cross-shaped tombstone.

"Happy birthday, Mama," she said quietly, "we still miss you a whole lot."

She stood and looked expectantly at Travis, "well, brother, aren't you going to say something?"

Travis thought a moment. If he could tell Mama anything, what would it be?

"Thank you," he said, "thank you Mama, for everything."