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Jack lay in his hospital bed where he’d been for weeks. Not the place he figured he’d celebrate his seventy-seventh birthday a handful of days ago. But, here he was. Odd, how less than a year ago his body was still durable, or at least stable. At the drop of a hat, it all changed, and now here he lay, weak in body, mind, and soul. He should consider himself lucky to have lived as long as he did in good health. Not everyone could say the same.
He fought for the strength to lift his eyelids. Even that was a major feat this past week. He knew he didn’t have much time left on this earth, and every time he managed to open his eyes and whisper one coherent word, that was just a bonus. Hell, he had just enough sense about him yet to know if he mastered a coherent thought in his condition, it was akin to finishing a marathon.
Through the slit of an eye-opening he managed, he caught a glimpse of daylight breaking in the dismal December sky. Off in the corner of the room, his son sat in the lounge chair. Every time he woke, Blake was there. Sometimes awake, and sometimes sleeping.
Prideful tears filled his eyes. Blake was a good son. The best. He’d been a good boy and turned into a fine man. He’d give his late Gwennie credit for that. She’d been both a good mother and wife.
Jack hadn’t moved an inch, yet his entire body ached. The whole package, joints, muscles, and flesh, was all sore. He was ready to go. He’d lived a full life. Spending weeks in the hospital had given him time to reflect on his life. Unfortunately, dwell on the things he’d wished he’d done differently, but conversely, reflect on the blessings he’d had. Blake, Gwennie, his parents, and his granddaughter, Eva. Of all the things in life, family was what it came down to. Family was what was important.
Returning his gaze to the window, he watched the dark clouds swirl in the breaking dawn. A reminder of his largest failure in his life. The one thing he wanted to accomplish most was the very thing he failed at miserably.
Dread coiled in his stomach as he recalled the exact moment in time he’d failed to preserve not only his family’s history but their destiny as well. In one split second, he’d lost everything—his family’s decorated military history, his wife... He swallowed hard and gazed at Blake, his son, and their rightful future. Luckily, with the help of his Protector, by the narrowest of margins, they were able to reclaim his family’s rightful destiny. From that moment, he spent nearly every waking moment trying to figure out how to ensure their destiny without having to saddle his son with the stress of taking on the role of a Preserver.
Looking back, he knew he should have relinquished the role to his son years ago when his body began to weaken with age, but he didn’t because he’d held hope he’d find a way out so his son wouldn’t have to endure the stress and weight of life as a Preserver. But, here he lay, almost fifty years later with no hope of change in that regard.
His heart thudded hard and slow. He knew there would be no tomorrow for him. It was time to inform his son of his destiny as a Preserver. His heart stilled for a few seconds, then pumped as if it needed to push blood as thick as curing concrete through his veins. His flesh heated, then chilled. A lump rose in his throat. He was almost out of time.
“Blake,” Jack managed in a gasped whisper.
His son went wide-eyed, sprang off the chair, and in two long strides was at his side.
Warmth, comfort, and love, seeped into his hand as his boy held it between his own. Jack closed his eyes to relish the feel of it. One last thing is all he needed to accomplish before he left this world. All he needed was a few more beats of his heart so he could prepare his son for his destiny—role as a Preserver. Once he did this, he could leave this world freely.
“Dad?...Dad,” his son’s voice echoed softly.
Using every bit of strength he could muster, he lifted his eyelids and focused on his boy.
He swallowed a couple of times and ran his sandpaper-like tongue around his dry mouth. “It’s okay. I’m ready. I’ve lived a good life. Son, I love you. You are a good man.”
Blake’s eyes watered. “I love you, too.”
Jack drew in a shallow, labored breath. “Just one more thing...”
His mouth went bone dry, making it even more difficult to speak. His vision blurred. The hint of alcohol he’d been smelling for the past couple of weeks diminished. The warmth and comforting feel of his son’s hands around his disappeared, and his flesh went cold. The sound coming out of his mouth was a garbled mess, then it faded away. He hoped the gibberish was only to his ears and that his son understood what he’d told him about his role as a Preserver, and that he hadn’t completely failed him. His thoughts scrambled.
For a brief moment, a tinge of fear of the unknown distressed him. His flesh stayed cold, but warmth, comfort, and peace filled his soul.
***
