Epilogue

 

The old man struggled his way up the path to the cliff face to his beloved bench. From time to time, he paused to look at the beautiful wild roses growing along the path. And, as always, he marveled at their being there. Why did God ordain they be there? Had someone planted them? Well, never mind, and he stabbed at the ground with his cane. The doctors said it would be all right for him to get out of the house. But he knew his daughter was anxiously watching from the kitchen window, hiding back in the shadows. At last, he made the bench, and sat down with a resounding, “Ah . . . ”

He looked out over his domain. The bay was like a millpond and even though it was early fall it was warm there on the bench. After a while, he dozed, half aware that if his head flopped over too far, his daughter would be up the path to see if everything was all right. As he awoke from one of his small naps, he heard footfalls coming up behind him. For goodness sakes! She didn’t need to come! He was all right! Just as he got ready to tell his daughter he was doing fine, a strange voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Arness? It’s me, Emily.”

She came up beside him. “May I sit down?”

“Please . . . please, do,” he stuttered.

“I haven’t seen you for quite a while, so I decided to come today.”

Ha, he thought, it’s been at least six months! Quite awhile indeed! But he was grateful she was there, and out of politeness he would not say anything.

“Today is an anniversary of sorts, remember?” she said, smoothing her dress over her stomach as she sat.

“Yes,” he said. “You mean it’s been a year since the killing out on the bay?”

She nodded. “I thought you might like to know Bronski is getting out of the VA hospital today. He called me yesterday. He seemed cheerful, I guess. As cheerful as anyone could be. He said that thanks to drugs, doctors, Jeanette, and his boss, he had finally gotten out of Vietnam.” 

“What will he do now?” Arness asked.

“He said he is going to pick up the pieces of his life and move on. I think he will go back to the town out in Western Alaska, where his wife is from. He said there was a priest out there who seems to have a firm grip on life. Besides, small towns offer a more ordered life, don’t you think?”

The old man nodded and smiled. She smoothed her dress over her stomach once again. Something told him there was going to be new life to replace the old and that perhaps that was the real reason she was here. To announce this replacement for countless others who had passed on, or were about to pass. 

He decided to stretch her visit out a bit. “And how is Sam?”

“Oh Sam is fine! Getting shot in the side hasn’t slowed him up one bit. He is awful busy down at the post office. He is such a hard worker. I worry about him. He’s already put in for a post office in Anchorage. The Anchorage Daily News says I can have a job there if I want it.”

The old man didn’t answer her but stared out to sea. Finally, to break the silence, she said, “I finished my manuscript yesterday. The rough draft that is. It’s about the drug scene here in small-town Alaska. It probably won’t sell very well in the lower-48, but I felt it had to be written, maybe as a tribute to the local people who have died because of drugs. But I couldn’t crack the upper management levels of the Postal Service. If any of them are involved in the drug scene, well, I’ll never find out. They are a closed-mouthed bunch. But I wanted to get it done before the . . . ”

“Baby came?” Arness asked, completing her statement.

Emily smoothed her hair back over her ear and blushed. “You noticed?”

He smiled and regarded her a few seconds, deciding not to laugh out loud.

“Yes, Princess, I noticed.”

She looked at him sharply. “That’s what Bronski used to call me. He saved me from myself, you know.”

The old man nodded. You’re not the only one. 

Emily got up from the bench. “Well, I must go. Behave yourself, Arness.”

He turned in his seat and watched as she swung her way down the path. So full of vibrant energy.

Suddenly he called. “Come again, Princess, and show me your son.”

She stopped, turned, cocked her head, and then nodded with a smile. She waved, and continued on down the path.

He shifted on the bench to look again at the bay, and to ponder why he had just told the Princess she would have a son. Probably just a slip of the tongue. The wind had picked up, and the bay was now covered with endless white caps—its time of grace over with. The beauty of the place overwhelmed him and he felt at peace. He sighed and said aloud, “Yes, God, if you were to call me now, it would be the happiest moment of my life.” 

His head turned to one side, as if listening. A tear ran down his face. Yes . . .yes!

His head fell slowly forward onto his chest and his arms relaxed at his sides, his hands opened as if in supplication. From the house, his daughter called.

“Daddy . . . Daddy?”

 

– THE END –