Feral Magic
Page 25
Willow Railey Fitzgerald
Dedicated to Providing Love and Shelter for the Weary
You Will Always Be With Us
Mumma, Poppa, Lilly, Leif, & “Griff”
It had no decorations other than a scallop around the edge of the bench. While it was a lovely display, tears stung my eyes to have been excluded from the stone. I would have been here for her funeral. Would have, if I could have.
“Feraline, look up. Read the back,” urged Lilly.
I raised my head, amazed I’d looked down first rather than at what faced me. Instead of the formal, all-caps lettering, this one was in Railey’s hand, as though she’d written it down and they had transposed it directly.
To my friend:
You were here first. You were here last. You were here when no one else knew I needed someone to be here with. You were the one I told my secrets to and held them close. You were here to help me clean up when I made messes. You kept your promises, all of them. I promise to you, I will be there for you now when you need someone.
Railey
I stared at her promise to me. I remembered the times she had shown up to me as a ghost, the things she had helped me accomplish, and how she had disappeared again. Now I had a circle, friends again, and even a man who loved me. I didn’t need her anymore.
I sat on the bench, laid the flowers down, and let quiet tears trickle down my cheeks. I stayed that way for some time, recalling our times together, realizing that now those times really were gone forever. I had her in my heart, and that would do.
Honeysuckle brushed my face on the wind, and I opened my eyes to see Railey’s parents standing together silently with Lilly. They’d grown older, gotten a bit rounder, earned a few wrinkles and some gray hair. But the biggest difference was in their faces, how they no longer held resentment and anger, but sadness.
Railey’s mother raced over and hugged me fiercely, then backed off and hid behind a yellow handkerchief. Her father was a man of few words, always had been, and little affection. He walked to me and dropped a hand on my shoulder, then put it on the bench behind me. I slipped by him and stood with Lilly and Railey’s mother, watching.
“We’ve thought of this for some time,” Railey’s mother said.
Her husband finished his quiet words and stepped back just a little.
A border carved itself around Railey’s letter, and above it the concrete started to morph and chip. A couple flourishes showed up first, then the words, one letter at a time.
Our daughter wrote this and guided her friend through her challenges, and healed what time could not.
Thank You, Ferline Swift, For Being All Our Daughter Needed.
We read it slowly and everyone was silent, letting the peace fill in the gaps that years had torn open. There was nothing that needed to be said, yet something required that we stay for a little while. A whiff of honeysuckle announced Mordon, Leif, and Barnes coming through the willow tree’s curtain. Leif held Railey’s mother, Barnes went to Lilly, and Mordon stood next to me.
I sought out Mordon’s hand and leaned in to his chest.
“I love you,” I whispered. He wrapped his arms around me and gave a quick squeeze. I heard someone shuffle, but didn’t pay them any attention until Mordon lifted my chin and nodded back to the bench.
Railey’s father had changed the original inscription. Curious, our entire group moved as one to read what he done. The stone now had, “And Especially Feraline” on the end of the message.
Mordon stroked my back and nodded at Railey’s father. We started to turn and leave, but a child’s laugh brought our eyes back to the bench. In a ray of light, glowing with a light of her own, was the pig-tailed, overall-clad Railey. She was smiling, smelling the roses and cyclamens I’d left there. She giggled again.
“Hi, Leif. I told you you’d grow up to be tall. And Lilly, you’d better still have that doll I gave you.”
Lilly nodded.
“Barnie! Aren’t you glad I rewrote your schedule so you’d meet Fera?”
Barnes’ mustache twitched in annoyance, but he nodded.
“Mor-don,” Railey gave her best diva sigh and fluttered her lashes, “you’re a dreamboat. But you’d better take care of her, or else!”
Mordon grinned as she waved the flowers at him like a pointed finger, then tapped them in her palm, not minding the petals falling off. Railey turned to her parents.
“Mumma and Poppa, I love you so much. And you’ve done the right thing here with my memorial, I love visiting my tree. Don’t be in any rush to come see me.
“Feraline, it’s been loads of fun and I’d do it all again, but I got other places to go now. I’ll play with your clutch, I promise!” she giggled at my slack-jaw reaction to the word clutch. Children. Drake children. It was all I needed. Railey kept moving, taking the ribbon off the flowers and tying it around her neck. She gathered up the loose stems and gave them one big toss into the air, and when they hit the ground she was gone. The flowers themselves dug through the concrete and rooted, each one growing into a blooming plant. Her mother sought out the bench, and her husband went with her.
The rest of us walked out of the tree sanctuary, and into the bright midday light.