Aunt Rita

Aunt Rita
By: Melissa

Chapter One: Leaving

I stared up at the enormous, white, window covered airplane that I would soon be boarding. My mother held my hand as we watched it through the streaked glass of the airport windows. She always holds my hand, when she's nervous. I could tell that she was extremely nervous, now, because of the painful clench she had on my palm. I couldn't blame her. I was a little nervous too... okay I was really nervous. I'd never been on a plane before, and after all the horror stories I'd heard about plane accidents, I was scared to death. I began to think about all the horrible things that could happen if the plane was to crash.
What if the pilot lost control of the plane, while we were flying over an ocean, and it went plunging into the raging water?! I could be the only survivor, and have to become a castaway on an isolated island, inhabited by cannibals, or worse I could be one of the ones who didn't survive. What if a terrorist took over the plane and threatened to kill everyone?! I would probably die of fright, before he could kill me.
I shuddered at the terrible thoughts, and felt a sharp squeeze on my hand. I guess Mom was just as nervous as me. She had a right to be. After all, I was her only little girl, and I was about to board a plane for the first time, by myself. The plane would take me all the way to Wyoming, to a small town called Gillette. Once there, I would be staying for the rest of my summer vacation with my crazy Aunt Rita.
Mom never liked me being near Aunt Rita for more than a month. I asked her why, once and she told me that she was afraid that some of her sister's craziness would rub off on me. I could understand why. I loved being with Aunt Rita, but I could never tell what she was going to do next. After a while the craziness and unpredictability started to get kind of annoying. I guess I'm just not used to it. Mom's the complete opposite of Aunt Rita. Everything she does depends on order and structure. Everything Aunt Rita does depends on how much fun she's going to have doing it.
Anyway, the idea of coming to Wyoming to visit my Aunt wasn't mine. Aunt Rita had called a week ago, out of the blue, to ask if I could spend my summer vacation in Wyoming with her. After thinking about it, it sounded kinda fun. I'd never been to Wyoming, before, and I wanted to see Aunt Rita, again. I'd have a pretty good story to tell my friends about my summer vacation, too. I could see myself standing in the middle of a crowd of my peers saying, "I went to Wyoming on my summer vacation." and everyone would ooooh and aaaah. My mother took a little more convincing. "Lizzie, I don't know if this is such a good idea, you spending three months with Rita." She had said, with a worried look on her face. I pleaded and begged, and after much of that, she had finally agreed, with the exception that I would have to call every night, by ten o'clock sharp. And so, it was settled and here I am now, about to board this huge pile of flying metal.
A sharp clench on my hand pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked over at Mom to see her sitting in one of the chairs by the windows. I realized that it hadn't been another squeeze on my hand, but that she had just let go. I was so used to that powerful hold on my palm, that I wasn't expecting it to be gone. I realized that this would probably be like what was going to happen, in a few minutes. I was so used to seeing my mom, everyday of my life, and soon I would be boarding the plane, and then just like that she would be gone, for the next three months. The thought scared me and excited me at the same time.
Mom sighed, and I realized that we had we been sitting in silence for a while. She finally broke it by saying, "Elizabeth you really don't have to do this." She only calls me "Elizabeth", when she's being serious and wants me to listen to every word she's saying. I smiled and said, "Mom, I want to do this, and everything's going to be fine with the flight and with Aunt Rita." That seemed to calm her down a little bit, so I kept talking to lower the tension. Then, all too soon, my flight was ready and I was rushed onto the huge plane, and just like that Mom was gone, as she would be, for the next three months. I was both scared and excited.

Chapter Two: Aunt Rita

I stepped off of the plane, still alive and in one piece. I was at the Cambell County Airport, in Gillette, Wyoming, were Aunt Rita was supposed to be waiting for me.
The whole airport was filled with movement, as crowds of travelers pushed their way through more crowds of travelers. People rushed by carrying luggage and supporting faces of pure happiness as they spotted their loved ones. Smells of coffee and airport food filled the air, as did the sounds of multiple languages, all jumbled into one.
I spotted a row of seats, by a window that overlooked the incoming planes. They looked like they were away from all of the hustle and bustle, so I went to sit down.
I stared at the approaching planes, as they made their landings, and remembered earlier today, when Mom and I had stared at the plane at the airport, back home. I cringed as I realized that I would not be seeing my house, my room, my mother, or anything completely familiar to me, for the next three months. Until now, I had been lucky enough to never have felt the feeling of being homesick. I had never been away from home for more than a week, and had never been away from my mother, for any amount of time. Now, the feeling of being homesick cut through me like a knife, and hard as I tried to hold them back, tears streamed down my face.
A soft touch on my shoulders lured me from my worries, as I looked up, into the face of my Aunt Rita.
“Lizzie, are you all right?” She asked, with a warm, caring smile.
“Yes.” I said, wiping the tears from my face, as I wrapped her in a clumsy hug.
“It’s great to see you!” She said. Her wild red hair sprang out in every direction. It was long and curly, and looked as if no amount of teasing could tame it.
As soon as we walked out to the parking lot, I recognized Aunt Rita’s car. Her lime green Slugbug stood out perfectly amongst the dull colored vehicles surrounding it. I stuffed my luggage into the tiny trunk, and noticed Aunt Rita’s Chihuahua barking at me, from inside the car. His name was Stanley, and for some reason, he wanted nothing to do with me. I found that out the hard way, when I was six, and had tried to pet him. He had nearly bitten my finger off. I’ve never tried to touch him, since.
“Hi, Stanley.” I said, as I got into the back seat. (Stanley had already claimed his position in the front seat.) He growled in response, and turned the other way, not even wanting to look at me.
The ride to Aunt Rita’s house was mostly filled with her colorful conversation. I didn’t talk much, but put in an “oh” or “yes” here and there, just to make it look like I was listening. Truly, my mind was drifting, back to home, mom, and everything completely familiar to me.

Chapter Three: The Lavender Room

The minute we pulled up to Aunt Rita’s house, my mouth dropped. It was a two story, cream colored, Victorian-style home, with red shutters. Cone shaped towers adorned the roof, and multiple windows surrounded the exterior.
The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. A huge, antique staircase, led to the second story, an oriental rug carpeted the hard wood floors, and a glittering chandelier hung from the ceiling, and that was just the first story.
Aunt Rita had always come to our house to visit. I had never been to her house, and I hadn’t expected it to be so beautiful. Naturally, my mouth dropped, as I took in the amazing details of the house.
“So, how do you like the house?” Aunt Rita asked, after touring me through the first story.
“It’s gorgeous!” I exclaimed.
“I’m glad you like it.” She said, “Why don’t you go upstairs, and get settled in, while I start lunch.” “Your room is the third on the left. It’s called the lavender room.” With that, she skipped away, towards the kitchen, humming a tune from Mary Poppins.
I grabbed my luggage, and started up the stairs. At the top, a wide hallway met my eyes. Pictures of relatives from past generations and portraits of famous paintings occupied the walls. A red carpet that snaked down the long corridor greeted my feet as I walked towards door number three, on the left.
The first thing I noticed, as I opened the door, was the strong scent of lavender and lilacs. Bowls of the dried flowers sat on almost every flat surface. The room was painted a pale violet color. A white, satin comforter covered the queen-sized bed that took up most of the space. Pillows of every shade of purple sat perfectly arranged on the comforter. The whole room had an air of elegance and grace to it. I stared in awe at the flawless details of the room, and then realized that it was mine, for the next three months.

Chapter Four: Leaving, again

June, July and August, passed faster than I had expected them to. In each month, Aunt Rita and I did another one of her crazy adventures. July was when we did a lot of traveling. We went to Yellowstone National Park, museums around Gillette, and we even went to Mount Rushmore in South Dakota.
In July it was Christmas, as in Christmas in July. We got the tree, the presents, and pretty much everything else that has to do with Christmas. We celebrated Christmas day on the twenty-fifth of July. It was just like the real Christmas, except I wasn’t at home or with Mom.
August was the month of extreme sports. We did everything from canoeing to mountain climbing. I would have never thought of doing any of the stuff that we did that month. I’m not much of a daredevil, as in the Ferris wheel at the county fair, is too scary for me. However, with Aunt Rita by my side, coaxing me through everything, it all seemed a lot less scary.
August was also the month that I went back home. Early in the morning, on the twenty-third, Aunt Rita drove me to the Cambell County Airport. By the time we got there, the plane was about to leave, so we quickly said our goodbyes. Aunt Rita wrapped me in a huge hug, as tears streamed down both our faces. Then, just before I left, she whispered in my ear a phrase that I will probably never forget. “You only have one life to live, Lizzie, so you might as well make it interesting.” The moment those words slipped from her mouth, I realized why she was always so unpredictable and adventurous. She was just making the most of her life, for it’s only so long, and who knows when it’s going to end? I boarded the huge plane, and just like that, Aunt Rita was gone. I didn’t know when or where I would see her, again, but that last sentence she spoke would remain with me forever.

Chapter Five: Changes

Home was just as I remembered it. Nothing had changed in the three months that I had been gone. Mom hadn’t changed either. She was still the same always-worrying-about-everything mother that I had left at the airport.
Even though nothing at home was any different, I had changed much, over the summer. Before, being with Aunt Rita, I had been a nervous worry wart, like my mother. Afterwards, things were different. I no longer worried about every little thing. I wasn’t afraid to try new things, anymore, even if they seemed scary at first. I even conquered my fear of the Ferris wheel, and then laughed at myself for being scared of it in the first place. After being with Aunt Rita nothing seemed too dangerous, risky, or impossible for me to do. I realized that if I set my mind to it, I was capable of anything.

Epilogue
I stared up at the enormous, white, window covered airplane that my mother and I would soon be boarding. I held Mom’s wrinkly, old hand, as we watched it through the streaked glass of the airport windows. I always hold her hand when I’m nervous or sad. I was definitely sad, and I certainly had a reason to be. After all, my one and only aunt, the aunt that had taught me so much throughout my life, had died.
Aunt Rita was always a daredevil, always doing things that other people would back away from, in fear of getting hurt or dying. She had no fear of death, though. Many times, in her crazy adventures she had looked death right in the eye with a smile on her face and still walked away with her life. This time, though, she had not walked away. This time, she didn’t survive.
It was early in the morning, in November, that it had happened. Aunt Rita had decided to go mountain climbing that morning just for something to do. She had packed all her gear into the tiny trunk of her lime green Slugbug and had started off down the road. It was there, driving down the road that it had happened.
A truck, speeding down the sixty mile per hour road, at ninety miles per hour, had crashed into my aunt’s Slugbug, totaling the car, and killing my aunt. The teenage boy who had been driving the truck, walked away, with nothing but a scratch, yet my aunt lost her life because of his poor choices.
It’s amazing, how out of all the crazy, dangerous, things that my aunt did in her lifetime, she died in a car crash. I guess it doesn’t matter what you do in your life, whether it’s risky or not, because in the end you could be climbing a mountain or driving a car, and if it’s your time to go, it’ll happen, no matter what you’re doing.
I thought about these things that were so painful to think about, as I waited with my mother for our flight to start. We were going to Gillette to attend the funeral and go over my aunt’s will with her attorney.
The last time I had flown to Gillette, I had gone with excitement and anxiety. That was nearly thirty years ago. Now, I was just going with sadness.

Epilogue Part Two
The plane landed in the Cambell County Airport, with me aboard, just as it had, nearly thirty years ago. Tears swam in my eyes as I remembered that day, when Aunt Rita had greeted me at the same exact airport, her wild red hair springing out in every direction, and a smile on her face.
Mom and I grabbed our luggage and walked the short distance to the nearest hotel. Once there, we changed from our normal clothes, to the somber matching black dresses we had bought the day before for the funeral.
We walked silently to the cemetery, each of us brooding in our own memories of the loved one that we had lost. As the cemetery came into sight thousands of headstones adorned with flowers, met our eyes. It was hard to imagine that the headstone of my aunt would fit in anywhere. I couldn’t imagine her being buried in such a dull, sad place, when she had been such a happy loving person, and so full of life.
Other people, dressed in black, were already waiting for us when we got to the place that my aunt was to be buried. Most of them were from the town and were just good friends of Aunt Rita, yet I knew they were feeling just as horrible as we were.

Epilogue Part Three
After the funeral, we met with Aunt Rita’s attorney. He informed us that Aunt Rita’s will stated that we would each be left with half of her belongings. Unfortunately, Stanley was part of my half. I couldn’t imagine how I would take care of a dog that didn’t even want me to look at it, but that’s what Aunt Rita wanted, and I wasn’t going to argue against it.
Once everything was settled that had to be settled, Mom and I, along with Stanley, boarded another plane back home. The longer we spent in Gillette, were Aunt Rita had lived, the more memories we remembered and the more it hurt to remember her.
I went back to my job, and my family, and Mom went back to her life as a senior citizen. However, no matter how busy our lives got, we never forgot the crazy, unpredictable, Rita, who could do anything, no matter how hard, dangerous or impossible it seemed. After all, you only have one life to live, so you might as well make it interesting.
The End