Doing Dishes

Mary plunged her hands into the warm, soapy water.  She pulled a plate from the top of the submerged stack of dishes and began to wipe away the little flecks of tonight’s dinner.  Her mind wandered out the window over the sink, into the backyard, and over the back fence to Mrs. Curry’s darkened house. 

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; the woman had been in her nineties, but it was hard to see the house empty.  Mrs. Curry had always been there, ever since they moved into this house eighteen years ago. 

She had watched the boys grow up.  Ethan would scale the chain-link fence, whatever creature he had just found safely in his pocket or fist, and Mrs. Curry would “ooh” and “aww” at it.  She had been a science teacher, so creepy crawlies didn’t bother her.  Neither did rambunctious boys. 

She had helped Danny with his science fair project on Pluto.  Or had he helped her.  By that time she was in her eighties.  Mary had tried to keep him from bothering her, let her enjoy her retirement, but Danny never listened.  He had gotten an A. 

Mary herself has started going over once the boys started getting too busy with sports and school.  She would take over a piece of cake or cookies, with two teenage boys, there were always a lot of extra sweets around.  They would sit at Mrs. Curry’s dining room table and talk about family, weather, and life.  She had led an amazing life.  Nothing they would make movies about, but it was still impressive. 

She had never married, despite the Mrs.  Parents had made assumptions as she got older, and all teachers are Mrs. to their students.  It never really mattered to her.  Her students were her children, so in a way she saw herself as Mrs. without the Mr.  Several of them still came by from time to time, her students.  They brought their own children.  And rocks.  Mrs. Curry had always loved rocks.  Smooth, black river rocks were her favorite.  She painted them.  Not with faces or anything, more like mandalas – intricate designs of flowers or animals with bright colors and lots of wispy lines.  Ethan and Danny had scoured the neighborhood for rocks for Mrs. Curry.  There wasn’t a smooth stone left in a ten block radius, Mary mused. 

What would happen to all those beautiful rocks, now that Mrs. Curry was gone?