A/N: Hey, this is Cam and Diego. This is our first story, so we hope you enjoy! Feedback and criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! :D


The Art of Healing

1

Ann

The funeral was heartbreaking. The heavy feeling of grief hung over the villagers. Tears slid down people's cheeks as they stared at the coffin. Silence filled the area, except for the odd sobs ringing out in the crowd every once in a while.

At the freshly dug grave it lay before my eyes. Thick and bulky, it rested in front of the hole, minutes shy of descending within the dirt walls.

Nobody attempted to hide their feelings. There was no denial that we were all experiencing feelings of absence and grave loss today. Even though I was affected the most, I sensed that people had reasons for their emotions as well.

Inside, I was scarcely hoping that he would push his way out of the casket like he was waking up from a deep sleep, and nothing ever happened.

He would step past the crows of people and embrace me like he did every morning. "Morning, Ann," he'd greet, and I'd grant him a quick kiss on the cheek. For one more time it'd be only the two of us in our small house and hotel.

I wouldn't be alone and without him. I'd continue as the second hand manager, the waitress, the one who kept everyone safe when they got seriously drunk.

I realized that with nobody to manage the bar along with me, I'd have to sell the house. The trusted employees I'd have to let go of. Then I'd possibly live alone in my own quart little apartment, without anyone to love or family to care for.

The salty tears reached my lips. Fingers reached out to brush against them, and I glanced at my palm to see the streaks slipping away. They were slipping from me, like how Dad did two days ago.

Why did he have to go to Forget-Me-Not-Valley? He wouldn't have gotten into an accident. His truck wouldn't have smashed into a farming fence because of some dumb kids goofing off. He wouldn't have died on the forceful impact, and unfortunately, my dad was had begun to to get weak at the age of fifty-five.

Sighing, I anxiously bit my lip as they lowered the coffin in the hole. I was so nervous and so alone, unknowing of what to do in the future. Sell the house? Keep the house? Work by myself? Ask favours for my friends?

There was so much to think about, and I had no idea how Dad would handle it.

Throughout the rest of the ceremony, I buried my face in my hands and dreadfully sobbed.

The amount of people the approached me at the end of the funeral was overwhelming. Everywhere I turned, there were sympathetic tears. Hands grasped mine, commenting on how a lovely person Dad was. I agreed with all their statements.

"He visited the library often," said Mary, handing me a handkerchief. I refused to accept it, believing she needed it more than I did, but in the end, I found it wadded up in my grasp. "I grew close to him there." She gave me a tight hug.

The usual smile on Zack's face was wiped off. That was one of the saddest thing I had ever seen. Zack was normally cheerful and never failed to disappoint others. To see him like this nearly tore up my heart even more. "Doug was truly a great man," he said to me, firmly shaking my hand. "May the goddess bless you, Ann."

Elli pushed Ellen towards me with a sad smile. The wheels of the wheelchair creaked as they halted. "I'm sorry," Ellie told me with a soft nod. The scarf around her neck violently fluttered in the wind. I met her sorrowful gaze. "He was special to us all."

Ellen shakily raised a stubby finger, and pointed at me. "I've known your father since he was born, child," she began, eyes glowing. Behind her round glasses, her eyes pierced me. She confidently smiled and rested back in her chair. "He'll live a good life with the goddess."

That was the best condolence I was given that day, because I believed her.

"Thank you," I choked. "Thank you all."

Then slowly, one by one, the people dispersed out of the area. All left, except me, and...

"Ann." He was there, lightly touching my hand. I looked to my right, seeing those large brown eyes tearfully staring at me. What was his name...? It took me a while to recollect the new employee's name.

When I remembered: his name was Cliff; he was already hugging his jacket around my shoulders, telling me it was going to be alright. "Your father was good to me," he reassured me with a smile. "As are you."

"Thanks." The warmth seeped within me, and suddenly, I felt hope. I had hope that this was all going to work out. I snuggled into the jacket while plopping my bottom on the ground and looked over Cliff.

He seemed about my age, maybe a little older. Bangs shaded his tanned face, while those bright blue eyes carefully watched me. His wide mouth frowned as I made no move to answer, but he remained stationary.

"He's good to everyone," I said a little angrily, turning away. Tears welled in my eyes once again. Even me. I hugged the jacket to my chest. It smelt of crisp tempura, and a slight scent of eggs. Finding this strange, I raised my eyes to look at him again.

Cliff shrugged. "I know..."

"Nobody has a bad word towards my dad." I spoke the truth.

"..." Cliff only listened.

I glanced at him, suspicious. He had an aura to him that told me he wasn't so bad, and I could open up to him. "I don't know who you are," I lightly accused with a glare.

Cliff nodded. "I know who you are," he admitted, adjacent to me on the grass. The autumn leaves crunched under his weight, peeling off the grass and spinning towards the trees. I watched them float in the distance. They were so far, yet so close. Like Dad.

For a few moments we rested, just sitting silently like that, until I asked, "Who are you, Cliff?" No one could blame me for being a little suspicious of a random guy who started speaking to me about my dead father.

He was thinking for about a minute, registering the things he could possibly say. Then he said, "Name's Cliff, and I'm twenty-five. I'm moving around for particular reasons I'd rather not say, so I came here to change my life."

Cliff's voice was deep and rich. It gave me the sense he was a shy, tough type of man. I liked him. I wondered why I never got around to talking to a nice guy like him. He'd only been working for Dad for about a week before the funeral.

I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.

Sucking in a deep breath, he did so. "Nobody needed an extra hand, except Doug. He couldn't pay me, obviously, so he said that I could stay if I earned my keep. It came with everything I needed: food, clothes, and shelter." He smiled. "I didn't need anything else."

Scarcely had I remembered cleaning his room. There was nothing inside besides the items the hotel room already had. It was a reason why I probably couldn't remember him. Another way I identified people was by their room.

"I see," I said with another nod. I could see why Dad liked him. He was a nice, honest guy. Already in the short time I knew him, I trusted him. Cliff was just another sharp reminder of Dad. He knew Dad. Dad accepted Cliff. I stifled another cry.

Cliff helpfully added, "He took me in and gave me a job when nobody else would."

I could tell this was saying a lot for him, because his cheeks were growing red. I thought it was cute, but I was too depressed to say anything. My vision clouded with liquids. Before I knew it, my face was wet again. My only words were, "I miss him."

"I miss him too," Cliff sincerely said. And he meant it.

Conversation between us was noiseless once more. In my ears I could hear the distant waves of the ocean, as well as the leaves rustling in the trees, blowing away. It was one of those moments that didn't need words.

In my mind flashed a memory of a day earlier in the year. Dad and I were walking on the path, talking. The sky was clear and blue, and the flowers were beginning to blossom. We were laughing, bundled up in our spring gear, and discussing the facts about the latest news.

He was commenting on how the mayor's hat was replaced, and was obviously too large for his head. I was complaining on how the town was losing money because our old farmer had left for another life. Desperately we were descending down. Nobody had realized how much we depended on the farmer until he was gone.

"I'm sure there will be a new one soon," Dad patted my head. "Don't you worry, Ann. It's in my gut that we're going to gain a better farmer soon enough." Sure enough, he was right. He was always right. But without my father, who could I go to for advice and opinions?

As I stared downwards, my long strawberry-blonde hair fell into my eyes. "So," I said to no one in particular, "what now?"

I didn't expect Cliff to answer. I wasn't thinking he would stand, pull me up from the ground, and have an expression of regret on his face. Instant regret washed over me as he explained. "I'm going to leave Mineral Town," he said. "This past week has been fantastic, but now that Doug's gone, There's nothing left for me here."

"What do you mean?" I was bewildered. Of course Cliff could do things! Perhaps he could cook, or play an instrument, or manage people... anything! There had to be something.

At first, when I began helping my father at the Inn, I was terrible at helping people. I folded the bed oddly, I served the customers with a strange attitude, but in the end, I became a pro at it. If Cliff was having problems, there was no doubt I could fix it!

Cliff's brown hair was blowing in the wind. It was amazing how long it was. "I mean," he said with a reassuring smile, "I don't have anywhere else to work." He bowed his head, not wanting to meet my eye.

"Yes!" This response was fierce. I wiped the streaks on the back of my hand, scowling. "Don't you say that, Cliff! You have somewhere to work!" I placed my hand on his shoulder, urging him to look at me.

He did. Amusement flashed in his eyes. I supposed he was thinking of how silly I was to tell him he didn't have to leave. "Where?"

My immediate reply was full of confidence: "Work with me! We can be affiliates at the Inn." I encouraged him with a hopeful smile. "We'll work together. You're alone, and I'm alone. We can keep each other company! Just don't leave, please."

It was sad enough to see a kind visitor depart the island after a day. Cliff was different. Even though it had been a week, I sensed that we would become great friends. I even already made a connection with him.

"Seriously?" Cliff looked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

I nodded.

His eyes brightened. "Come on then, Ann, let's go tell the mayor!" he said, taking off in the opposite direction. I grinned and went after him, his jacket still hung around my shoulders. "Oh, Ann, we'll make this bigger than it ever was, with the two of us! We'll make your father proud!"

Maybe life wouldn't be so bad at all.


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Cam and Diego