They finished far too quickly.

First thing in the morning, the family had come together to help Grandpa move into his new home. By early afternoon they had unloaded and arranged everything he wanted to bring to the assisted living complex. Except one last box—a small one that Grandpa wanted to carry in himself.

They stood in the front courtyard of the complex now, cooling off after the move, enjoying the sunshine and the spring breeze as it whispered through the trees. A few paces away, Archie watched as Grandpa interacted with the rest of the family. He was having a good day.

None of that seemed fair. A day like today should be gloomy and gray, and Grandpa shouldn’t seem so normal. This way, with everything bright and everyone well, didn’t match the underlying truth that had made this happen in the first place.

Archie did his best to be cheerful. His family obviously needed it.

It seemed like Archie only blinked, and the time had arrived. Grandpa set down his little box and said goodbye to his daughters. Starting with Mom, then Aunt Candace and Aunt Violet, he hugged them tightly, paused to speak softly with each of them and to wipe away their tears.

He shook hands with Uncle Dan. Then they pulled each other into a fierce hug, exchanging words too quiet for Archie to hear. The two men had always been good friends, and it was plain to see the friendship would continue as long as it could. When they parted, Uncle Dan’s eyes were red, and he and Aunt Candace clung to each other.

Then Grandpa was there in front of him. Archie managed to maintain his brave face.

“Can Fletch and I get a moment to ourselves?” Grandpa asked.

The others agreed and turned to head to their cars. There was a quiet moment while Archie and Grandpa waited for them to climb inside and shut the doors. Then it was just the two of them.

“I left something for you back at home,” Grandpa said. “The Ireland painting. I know you like it. Maybe you can paint your own someday, after you see it for yourself.”

“Deal,” Archie said. “And thanks.”

He tried but couldn’t think of anything meaningful to say. So he reached for the first thing that occurred to him. “I told Desta everything last night.”

Grandpa beamed. “That’s never easy. Good for you!”

Archie shrugged. “Well, she hasn’t answered yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. You took the leap, and that’s what counts. You’re a brave man. Which reminds me.”

Bending down, Grandpa reached into the last box and pulled out a book bound in worn brown leather—the Journal. Except it looked different. Archie studied it, momentarily puzzled, before realizing all the stickers were gone.

“This is yours now,” Grandpa said. “I think you’re ready for the whole story. Oh, and there’s one more thing.”

Grandpa dug into the box once more, and came back with another leather-bound book. This one was thinner, the binding newer. He handed that over too.

“Here’s something no one else knows,” Grandpa said. “Over this past year, when I could remember things and felt up to it, I wrote more stories. Some are old memories, some are recent. And some tell about my adventures with a very special young man—one who cared so much about me that, at times when I felt the most lost, I remembered who I was.”

Archie nearly lost his brave face. A heavy lump rose in his throat. He could feel his eyes getting glassy, and Grandpa’s were doing the same.

This isn’t goodbye, he promised himself. I’ll see him again tomorrow, and next week.

The thought kept him from going to pieces. This wasn’t the end—not even close. Still, it was an end, and right now they both felt it more than ever.

Grandpa swallowed hard. When he spoke, his voice trembled. “Remember me, Archie,” he said. “If I know someone does, then . . . well, maybe this last adventure won’t be half bad.”

“We’ll all remember,” Archie said. “I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”

Grandpa nodded and gulped down a deep breath. It occurred to Archie then—he was the only one Grandpa had let see him this way. Sad, afraid, but still determined.

“I’ll . . . I’ll see you soon, okay, Fletch?”

“Real soon,” Archie said.

With a nod, Grandpa picked up his box and walked toward the building’s front entrance. To Archie it seemed like a mile-long march. He was determined to stay there and watch until his grandfather got safely inside.

Seized by curiosity, Archie flipped open the front cover of the new Journal. To his surprise, there was a letter addressed to him on the first page.

Fletch,

I’ve never told anyone why I started calling you that. I’m telling you now. Back in the old days, fletchers made the arrows for an archer. I called you Fletch because, in my own unusual way, it reminded me to help you make yourself into something special. To help you become the right kind of person, and then aim yourself at what really matters in life. I don’t really know how much I helped, but I do see the person you’re becoming. I’m already proud of him.

In Love and Adventure Always,

Raymond Reese
Grandpa

By the time Archie finished reading, the tears were falling. He didn’t try to stop them. Closing the new Journal, he looked up.

Grandpa stood just in front of the entrance, peering back at Archie. The box sat at his feet. With a broad smile, he lifted his arms and affected the motion of pulling back an arrow, then releasing it into the sky.

Laughing through his tears, Archie did the same. Then Grandpa picked up his box, gave one last wave, and stepped inside. The door closed behind him.

Archie gazed down at both Journals, marveling at what Grandpa had given them all. Whatever happened in the future, Raymond Reese would always be Raymond Reese. Even if his memories disappeared altogether, some would live on in these pages. Even more would live on in the hearts of the people who loved him.

Archie’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw a text on his screen and his breath caught in his throat.

—Good time to call?

A thrill raced through him, followed by a flash of fear. He pushed the fear away and sent a text in response.

—Sure.

A moment later his phone buzzed with a call. Archie let it ring twice and then answered.

“Hey, Desta . . . Tonight? That’d be great. I’ll have to make sure with Mom, but . . . Oh, thanks. We just moved him in today, actually. Yeah . . .”

Archie paused. Looking back at the doors to the retirement home, he smiled and stood a little taller.

“Yeah. We’ll be okay.”