Then, he stopssuddenly and falls to his knees. I quickly come up behind him andgrab his arm to help him up. When I look down, the name JeanStewart Gordon jumps off a headstone.
“Mom,” I say,my lips quivering and my eyes watering. The strength drains out ofmy body, and I kneel beside my dad.
“It’s her, Dad.She’s right here.”
“I know,kid.”
Mom, my prettyand magical mom. I miss you so much. I would do anything to haveyou back, even for one minute, so I can tell you how much I loveyou, and how there’s been a dark void in my life since you left.You were so pretty and clever. I remember everything wonderful youdid for us when things were bad, like when we had no money, and youwould sing and dance in the kitchen with us while you gathered bitsof food or leftovers to make a soup with. You made even the worstdays happier. I’ve went for so many years stumbling through life,handicapped emotionally because I didn’t have you in my life.
Kneeling on thecold damp grass, I just wish the ground would open up and swallowDad and me, so the four of us could be together again.
“There’s ourlittle Abby,” Dad says, leaning over and running his hand over thestone beside my mother’s.
Reluctantly, Ilook over. Through blurry, watery eyes, I read the name, AbigailDawn Gordon. Here she is, my sweet, beautiful Abby. I reach overand touch the dark engraving. I’m here, Abby. It’s Jules, and I’mright here honey, my tears fall on the grey stone.
I can see hernow, sitting on the end of the bed and bugging me to play with her.Any little bit of attention she got from me was like gold to her.She was so full of life. Everything we did, no matter how mundaneand repetitive, she would find something good in, like walking homefrom school or cleaning up our room. Her little spirit burned sobrightly, and now she’s gone. The world is a darker place.
My fatherseparates the flowers between the two stones and whispers, “I’ll bewith you soon, my girls.”
I slowly standand reach my hand down to him, “Come on Dad, it’s cold out and weshould get you warmed up.” The truth is, I can’t stand here anylonger. The pain is too much. Not to mention, Dad is frail and hasjust gotten out of the hospital. The cold out here can’t be doinghim any favors.
Dad nodsreluctantly, then lets me help him up. He stares at the graves fora couple quick moments before we turn in the direction of thetruck. Just as we begin to walk, a huge wind brews up. I move infront of my dad to shelter him, expecting a freezing gust. Only,strangely enough the wind isn’t cold at all, it’s actually a lotwarmer than I anticipated. The gale whips around Dad and I andsweeps over Abby and Mom’s gravestones, stirring the flowers. Westop and watch the flowers move then look at each other. “No way,they’re here!” we say in unison. Then, he smiles, and begins tolaugh. Soon, I’m doing the same. Dad spreads his fingers and letsthe warm breeze brush through them. I do the same. No matter howmuch pain the both of us were in just moments before, we’re not sadanymore. Instead, we’re jovial, warm and at peace. We stay still inthe wind until it dissipates, leaving as fast as it came. Theflowers on the stones are once again still.
* * *
On the ridedowntown, we hold hands and smile, barely say a word. The enchantedfeeling of what we just experienced lasts until we’re drivingthrough Stanley park. The traffic is slow which means we have tospend more time sitting on the roadway through the thick trees.Looking out, I remember the small roads that Fournier’s goons tookSlinky and I down and how the night ended with me being drugged andSlinky’s finger being sliced off. Then, I think about Fournier andhow if I don’t come up with fifty grand, he will kill me andprobably hurt Katie too. I don’t have that kind of money; I neverdid. Most of the jobs I’ve had are cash and carry and after paydayrolls around, I’m barely able to make rent and food. Even if I soldmy bike, I wouldn’t get even near fifty thousand for it. Next, mymind flashes back to my mother and sister’s graves. Fournier isresponsible for all my family’s loss and grief. That piece of shitthinks he’s untouchable, surrounded by his muscle-bound underlings.Fuck him for everything he’s taken away from everyone, while hewalks around scot free. Once again, the feeling of revenge consumesme.
I look over atmy father in the passenger’s seat to make sure he hasn’t noticed mychange in energy. The last thing I want to do is worry him afterthe emotional roller coaster we’ve just been on. Thankfully, he’sstill smiling. I’m glad that we went to the graveyard, maybe not atfirst, but I am now. I know that if Dad had told me where we weregoing this morning, I never would have gone. But now , I feel likemy mom and Abby are still with me.
As soon as wepull into the stall in the apartment underground, my phone buzzes.As Dad cautiously maneuvers out of the passenger side, I pick up myphone and look at the screen and see Slinky’s number. Instantly, Ifeel paranoid and anxious. I thought he was dead. How can he becalling me if Fournier had him killed? Dad waits for me in front ofthe truck, so I stuff my cell in my pocket and get out.
When we reachour floor, there are movers coming from the elevator next to us.They’re loading boxes into the suite at
