No Name for the Free
Page 27
I am both so tired and so upset that I drop to my knees, wailing and wondering if I still have not drunk enough water or if the blow from the giant hit me so hard I am hallucinating. And, just like before, Yemi's intervention stops the tears I feel coming from reaching my cheeks, or maybe I am in so much pain from what has happened, and what I am putting together, that the tears do not even have the strength to form.
"Do you see it, too?"
He could only be asking about the flowers that now grow, out of nowhere, in this desert, and, as wonderful as it is to know he sees them too, if that means I am not mad or we are together, the sight of her again keeps me silent as she appears out of thin air, walks through the field she has left in her wake, and glows blue until she fades entirely after a single blink. Then, I respond to him, as I finally come to terms with what this all means.
"Yes."
His next question is simple enough.
"What do we do now, then?"
To that, I take some time to respond, when my mind is overwhelmed with the same feelings I had when I was finally old enough to understand what it meant when everyone said my mother was dead, but, when I do answer him, my words are less distraught than his.
"I cannot chase her, and she is gone."
Yemi's response is one of deep frustration.
"How do you know? Why would you give up so easily after everything?"
My answer is simple.
"Because she wants to be with him, I hope."
He now bears the same sadness I had only moments ago, as he doesn't get what I mean.
"With whom?"
Rather than tell him outright, I just stare at Yemi until he gets it on his own because I cannot bring myself to explain anymore or share any more words, and this is something he has to understand on his own, as I have. While I stay silent, he asks a question he already has, with an entirely different meaning.
"What do we do now, then?"
I answer with what I explained to him and to her previously, so fluidly that it almost rhymes despite the fact that I feel like my heart is breaking.
"I think we go home to a place I am owed, where we can have a kingdom to call our own..."
Yemi says nothing afterwards, and kicks the sand instead, and the sight of him doing so is enough for me to hold back the pain and share something that might cheer him up.
"There's enough sand by the sea to keep you happy until the end of your days."
He laughs through the pain, and has something else to say before I can laugh too.
"And enough water to drink."
So, when there is nothing else to do, we both laugh, even if we would rather be crying, and the two of us share one, final interaction atop this dune before we head back to find and help the men that lived through the day.
"I think this is yours then, my friend. Let this not be the end."
From his pocket, he hands me my necklace, and, faster than I can ever lose it again, I tie it around my neck and let it hang outside of my clothes, to never forget it, as we watch some of the men return and know our journey is not over yet.
An Old Man
"…And that's the tale of how I met her and how she vanished from my life."
I lie in my bed, a lifetime in the past, as my back still hurts the same it did on that day, and my son stares at me before I can halt the few tears that try to leak onto my old skin. So, I speak to release some of the pain that lingers.
"Now, I have one question to ask before we join the others in the hall."
The villagers wait out in the grand hall that was once my father's, now mine, so I can solve their disputes right. But, for now, that question comes first.
"Do you think she'll be up there waiting for me?"
His answer dismisses what I ask for the most part, and focuses on how much time I have taken telling this tale instead.
"I do not know, father. You still have some tasks to attend to before any of us are ready to lose you, though."
I recognize that they will not be happy to have been left waiting so long, but that matters little when they know it takes this old man forever to get out of bed, and when they live happy lives besides the mundane land disputes they have from time to time. So, I have a moment to joke with the spitting image of myself, all those decades ago.
"As long as you promise to bury me as I wish."
Both of us laugh, and my child, now a young man in what feels like a blink of the eye too, asks a question to make sure he has my plans right.
"In a coffin under the dirt, with a statue of how you looked all those years ago?"
That is up for debate, when it matters little compared to the objects on my wall that are so old they are almost ancient artifacts.
"I'll leave the statue up to you, as long as you bury me with what little I have left of my old friends beside me..."
In the same room I grew up in and almost died in once upon a time, all of their weapons hang on the wall that once carried my family's armor. My grappling glove, my broken sword, now so old that what was bent is several different pieces these days, Abraham's blade, well kept, Gorm's axe, in the same state, and one of Yemi's swords in better shape than everything else when he only passed away so many winters ago, it feels like. To think he survived everything to die of old age and be buried with one of his swords and his own glove is enough to make me laugh to myself. The only other object that ties the room together is a pot of the very same flowers Em left behind that, from time to time, I pay some men to travel to what feels like the other side of the world to get more, and, as I stare at them, the boy has something else to say.
"I just have to know... Do you really think you saw her as a spirit-of-sorts, and her father too after he died out in the snow that night? And did you ever get a chance to talk to her after... You know... Once she passed on?"
It is I that then worries about how much time has passed.
"That might have to be a story for another day, my son. It was so long ago, and the thought still hurts my heart. There was no body, no reason, and, to this day, I still cannot believe, as young and foolish as I was, that I outlived them all."
He helps lift me out of my small bed, just big enough for two people, as I say more.
"I just hope they are happy wherever they are."
With his arms and his young strength keeping me from hitting the ground as we walk towards the door in my night clothes, as little as I care about my physical appearance to the village folk these days, he proves that his mind is just as strong, as curious as he is.
"I can only imagine, but one more question."
I poke fun at how much I still hurt and how much I have to use his help as we exit out the door and into the halls I grew up in.
"And that is? Now that my bones get weaker every minute."
His question catches me off guard, but I am not surprised.
"Do you still love her?"
And, with as long as this damn hallway is, I have enough time to explain.
"I do not think so. You know my heart hurts after all these years, like I said, but it has been so long. Love does fade, and new love makes itself known. I have not forgotten her, but a small part of me will always love her. It's just different. It is not like how I love your mother, lest you tell her any of this."
That makes us both laugh, as he assures me that will not happen.
"I won't. Don't worry. Many others deserve to know your story, though."
And, through the laughs, I find pride.
"That is why I have you. To carry on my memories, and all of theirs. You could compare the feelings I still have for her to the feelings you might have too. They are nothing but remnants of the past."
I imagine that my physical state makes him worry more than it should, and his words show that well enough as we reach the end of one hall and turn into another, before turning into the one that leads us straight into the main hall.
"You have lost so many, father, and, yet, I still fear the day I lose you."
"It gets easier once you realize that we always carry a part of those we lost with us, wherever we go."
Emily
1998-2017
It's taken me far too long to reach this point, but here I am, having finally fulfilled the promise I made to you before you passed away. I only wish you were still here to share this bitter-sweet moment with me, but, for now, I know that your passing has not been for nothing because, if you managed to touch the soul of everyone who knew you as much as you did mine in the short time we were a part of one another's lives, then I pray all of those people have come to appreciate the fleeting nature of their time on this Earth as much as I do. By losing you, someone who never got the chance to live out their dreams or discover what they are truly worth, you changed me for the better as I find an escape from the pain with the thought that, maybe, wherever you are, you have finally found the happiness you always deserved. So, please, sleep happy and free, never letting what tormented you while you were alive hurt you ever again, and, in the chance that there is some fate for us all after we have died, I look forward to meeting you again because I will always remember you, Em, no matter how old I grow.
~ Devin Harbison
Devin was born in the year of '98 and raised in a little suburb not too far outside of Baltimore, but, nowadays, he's happily escaped to a much quieter part of Maryland and is more than happy staying there until his bones turn to dust. When he's not busy using far too many commas and almost as many overly-complex sentences, he can be found relaxing with his family, caring for close friends, chasing his misbehaving son, a beautiful Retriever mix, adorably named Bear, and playing far too many video games as they have always been an escape for him, even when his issues with mental illness have been at their worse. Thankfully, with the worst his mind has to offer gone, he seems ready to stick around for a while now and more than willing to do what he loves, writing for the enjoyment of others.
devinharbison.com
twitter.com/Devin_Harb
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