Epilogue

The wind was coming at me in long cold sweeps, a gray wind that belonged to a Saturday in mid-November. It was the day after Keelie’s birthday, and in spite of the cold weather, she’d insisted on going out to fly the kite I’d given her. So after calling Joc and asking her to meet us at Dundurn Street Park, I’d tucked the kite under my arm and Keelie and I had set out. And that was where we were now—me on my knees behind Keelie, helping her hold onto the string while she watched the blue-and-white diamond float above us in the dull gray sky.

Keelie was singing. Head back, her eyes fixed on the kite, she was holding onto the string with both hands and letting notes drift from her mouth—nothing I recognized, just a beautiful sound in the air. And it wasn’t only her throat that was singing, it was her chest, arms, legs and groin, all of her vibrating in a body-wide peaceful happiness.

She was singing to her heart. Way up in the sky, Keelie’s heart was bucking and dancing and kicking while she stood far below, holding on tight and letting her whole body sing. And I could feel it in her then, how wide open she was to whatever was coming toward her in this life, how sure of her own happiness.

Yeah, I thought. This is the way I want to be. I want to be like my little sister Keelie when I grow up.

In the distance I could see Joc, coming over the bridge. Raising a hand I waved, then again took hold of the string, nuzzled my face in closer to Keelie’s and listened to her sing.