“He was my grandfather.”
The comment brought the old women to a halt, as she looked directly at her guide. Lita was in her late forties and the old woman couldn’t help but stare at every inch of her face.
“Is everything alright,” Lita asked. A question which snapped the old woman from her stare and brought back her shuffling steps as they continued on.
“Wonderful, everything’s wonderful,” she said.
Lita continued with her gentle narration as they walked. She detailed how Callen had risen to become a great leader amongst their people. How he replaced Lien, who himself had long reigned as Chief Elder. It’s was the one and only time two consecutive Chief Elders had come from the same family and Lita recounted how their consecutive reigns were still revered for the great changes they implemented towards the world of the nearby City. She also listed some of the many important sons and daughters Callen had fathered, and now grandchildren, some of whom, like Lita, had gone on to become Elders themselves.
The two reached the sight of the graves and walked between the headstones. Lita stopped and rested her hand upon Callen’s stone. It read; Callen (Helfner) Carrus, born 2464, died 2541. Husband to Eve, Father to Lien, Jonathan, Leona, Annie, Raegher and Ky.
“You must remember him from the time he spent in the City,” Lita asked.
“Yes, yes I do,” the old woman replied. “When he was a very young boy, I was his mother.”
Leona’s eyes sparkled on forming those words. It was the first time she’d claimed Callen as her son in well over a hundred years.
“And you’re right. He was a great man. A great teacher and I was a very poor student.”
Lita stepped forward to support Leona who was struggling to stay upright in the heat. It had been many years since she’d called upon her weary limbs to exert themselves and she was grateful for the helping hand.
“Please, just find me somewhere to rest a while,” she said.
Lita helped her to a natural seat, formed by a large root at the base of a nearby tree. Here, in the shade, with a gentle breeze washing over her and a few shrilled calls from birds above, she found rest. Leona closed her eyes to concentrate on recuperation and began to suck large breaths of naturally scented air into her lungs. The simple act was one of the most peaceful of her life, but the moment would never be recalled. Lita’s concerns about her guest’s condition had grown to a point where she headed off to find someone who’d be able to provide medical assistance. Lita would be the last person to see Leona Carrus alive. Her life had stretched almost one hundred and seventy-four years. One Hundred and seventy four hollow years that paled in comparison to the brief Seventy-Seven years of Callen’s life. Seventy-Seven years that had flashed brightly and set alight so many others who were still warming the earth with his memory.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Scott Norton began writing for theatre and studied at Australia’s Victorian College of the Arts. His play ‘Clipped Wings’ won the Australian Writer’s Guild Theatre Award and was later published by Playworks. Since 1994 Scott has worked as a writer for television and films. He set up television dramas in Indonesia and Poland before returning to Melbourne Australia in 2006. He’s a keen sportsman and has recently added water polo to his list of sports played.
Discover other titles by Scott Norton at Smashwords.com: Scott Norton
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Inner City Page 24