One of the nurses stepped behind the wheelchair and began rolling my dad toward the door. I walked beside him, my fingers lightly twined in his. As we rolled into the elevator, the trembling in his fingers grew. I knew it was excitement. The knowledge that he would soon be home and free to die as he’d wished. In the open, under the stars, so that the power of dawn would caress his body and guide him on to the afterworld.
And though the thought had tears flooding my eyes again, I could wish for nothing else. It was what he wanted, what he’d been holding on for. After all my years away from him, I could do nothing less than give him his last wishes in his final moments on this earth.
Doctor Jones held open the front door and the nurse wheeled him into the outside air. Dad raised his face to the sky then breathed deep. His pale skin seemed to flood with color and he sighed. It had to be hard for a man of sunshine and heat to be cooped up inside endlessly, unable to even raise a fingertip to the caress of day. It might not be as deadly as being restrained from water and wave was for me, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. And it was something he shouldn’t have had to face.
I bit my lip, and wished I could bite down the guilt as easily.
Trae climbed out of the car and opened the rear door. The doctor and two nurses struggled to get Dad into the car and comfortable. He didn’t complain. Just smiled his happy-to-be-free smile.
Once he was in and buckled up, Doc Jones came over and gave me his best “doctor” smile. “He should be comfortable for the next twelve hours.”
“We both know he won’t last twelve hours.”
“I didn’t think he’d last as long as he has. Your father is a man of amazing strength.”
“Yeah, he is.”
I shook the doctor’s hand, then climbed into the backseat beside my dad. I took his hand in mine, not saying anything—not needing to say anything. Touch was enough for now.
Trae drove us back to our house, but again parked in the trees—though closer to the house than before.
“What’s going on?” Dad said. “This isn’t our place.”
“One of the trees came down over the driveway,” I said. “We have to walk a bit.”
“Then take me straight to the beach, not the house. I want to feel the sun for a while. Let it heat my bones.”
I nodded and scrambled out of the car before he could hear the sob that careened up my throat. Trae caught my hand before I could move around the back of the car, and pulled me toward him. “You’re amazing,” he said softly, and dropped a sweet kiss on my lips.
I resisted the desire to melt into his arms and allow the warmth of him to chase away the ache in my heart. Dad had waited long enough for this, and even the few minutes a brief hug would have taken from him just wasn’t fair.
“I’ll get him out and carry him,” Trae said. “It’ll be easier. Can you carry the chair?”
He reached back into the car and popped the trunk, then moved around to Dad. I dragged the wheelchair out, hooking the awkward thing with my arms and carrying it in front of me.
I led the way through the trees, holding back branches and crushing aside bushes that got in the way. The wind had picked up, sighing through the pines and rustling the dying leaves of the various as-pen. The chill of night was already in the air, but it didn’t seem to matter to Dad. His smile grew the nearer we got to the water and the sunshine. When we finally broke free of the trees, he laughed. It was such a carefree, joyous sound, it brought a smile to my lips.
We walked along the sand until we neared the house, then I set up the chair. Trae placed Dad in it carefully, then attached the bags to their spots on either side of the arms.
“I’ll go check out that tree problem,” Trae said, as he stood. “You want me to collect anything to eat on the way back?”
“I’m not sure what’s in the house, but yeah, if you can find something.”
He kissed me again, soft and lingering, then left. I watched him walk up the beach and disappear into the trees, then returned my attention to my dad.
“You like that one, don’t you?” he said.
I smiled. “
“The good ones always are.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, once again allowing the sunlight to caress his skin. “Tell me about your mom, Desi. Tell me what happened.”
So I did. Everything I could remember, as well as some stuff that was more guesswork than fact. Trae came back about halfway through, handing me a cup of coffee and several crackers.
As the day ran into night, conversation faded. We sat in companionable silence and watched the stars grow bright in the sky. When the moon began its track across the night, Trae rose and retrieved a couple of blankets, wrapping one around my shoulders and the other around Dad’s. I flipped one end of the blanket open and he sat beside me, his presence keeping me warmer than any blanket ever could.
Doc Jones joined us sometime after midnight. He sat back in the trees, a witness to events but not a part of them.
Dad was still smiling when he passed away in the early hours of the morning. I continued to hold his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin gradually leaving his body. But the deeper burning—the fires of the dragon waiting for the dawn and the final journey—were still present.
The air began to hum with power long before the first vestiges of dawn began to crack the night. Energy flitted across my skin, little sparks of power that were very visible in the blackness that surrounded us. But the crazy tingling did little to ease the ache in my soul. I doubted anything could right now.
I studied the horizon, waiting, as the hum of power grew and intensified, and slivers of red and gold broke across the sky—bright flags of color that heralded the coming of day and the beginning of my dad’s last journey.
Even as the warmth of the coming day flooded through my body, breaking the chill of night, it caressed my dad’s body and stirred the waiting dragon to life. His skin grew warmer to the touch, beginning to glow with that inner heat. It forced me to release his hand, even though I didn’t want to.
The day grew brighter, my dad’s skin warmer, until it seemed the sun itself burned under his flesh. Finally, the fires of the dragon broke free—gloriously, finally free—and reached skyward with exuberant fingers.
“May the Gods of sun and sky and air guide you on your journey, Dad,” I whispered, my eyes on the flaming brightness and my throat so constricted with tears I could barely speak the ritual words. “May you find the peace and happiness in the forever lands that you could not find in this.”
The streaming fingers of sunlight seemed to twirl and dance, as if in answer, and then they were gone, lost to the brightness of the coming day.
The radiance caressing my skin died, taking with it the underlying hum of energy. All that remained of my dad were a few ashes and the remaining scraps of a comforter that the wind snatched up and scattered.
He was gone. Forever.
I closed my eyes and let the grief flow free.
Chapter Twelve
I don’t know how long I cried. I just couldn’t seem to get my act together, and much of that was guilt. It was ridiculous to feel that way, I knew, because the past couldn’t be changed no matter how much I might wish otherwise. I’d done what I’d done. I’d left knowing Dad was ill, that the diabetes was getting worse. But in the foolishness of youth, I hadn’t figured it would be so hard to free my mom. Hadn’t counted on getting caught myself. I’d been too confident in what I was and what I could do to worry about such things as capture by the very people who held my mother.
Through all the tears, Trae was there. Holding me when I needed to be held, making love to me when I needed the intimacy, leaving me alone when I wanted to be alone. He fed me and looked after me, and was patient with me when my grief ran into the need to rant and rage.
But I couldn’t stay in that pit of despair and guilt forever, especially not when I still had promises that needed
