one day?”
“You bastard,” Kendi said, still irked. “You’ve been visiting the Dream for-what? Days? Weeks? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, I’m not surprised.” He kissed Ben again, though not as intensely as before. “You always did have to be different.”
Ben only smiled. “So whose family do we go after first? Yours or Harenn’s?”
“Harenn’s,” Kendi said promptly. “She goes home to an empty house every night. I don’t. We should probably-” He paused. “All life! I just realized-the Real People told me to go to Rust so Sejal could tell me where to look for my family. It wasn’t a metaphor after all.”
“It’s amazing what you find,” Ben said philosophically, “once you stop looking.”
“Let’s go tell the others, if Harenn hasn’t already. See who wants to go.”
“You go ahead,” Ben told him. “Just save me a space on the crew roster. Father Kendi.”
Kendi flashed a bright grin and left. Ben watched him go, then wandered over to the window, opened it, leaned outside. The air was cool and damp on his face. Leaves rustled in a very slight breeze. Far below the house, amid the foggy ferns, lay his mother’s grave. Ben had had her buried at the foot the talltree, and already it seemed as if he could feel her presence in the leaves and branches.
“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered. “Thank you for everything.”
He stayed at the window, staring out into the foggy night. A long moment passed. Then Benjamin Rymar firmly shut the window and turned back to his life.
