The Loose Ends List(62)

“I can’t believe you kept this from us,” Mom says to Gram.

“You people are always telling me I talk too much, and if someone tells me a secret, I need to keep it. Now you’re bitching that I kept Martin’s secret? The one thing my WASP mother drilled into me was to ask myself the question ‘Is that your story to tell?’ It wasn’t. It was Martin’s. If he didn’t want to share, he didn’t want to share.”

“Not everybody is an open book, guys,” Wes says.

The bus crawls even deeper into the mountains on an unpaved road. As we approach the temple, I understand why this place was so special to Grandpa Martin. It’s mind-blowing.

We walk up a stone pathway to a collection of bright red buildings with the orange curved roofs of all Taiwan’s temples. It feels like the most serene spot on earth, like this is where the earth breathes when it’s sleeping soundly. A lone Buddhist monk, completely bald and draped in a saffron robe, sits on a bench, his hands folded. A stray dog darts over to him and back to us, but the monk doesn’t look up.

We walk to a gazebo, also covered with a curved orange roof and lined with benches, and sit to catch our breath. Lin’s daughter pulls a stack of photos from her messenger bag. There’s one old, tattered photo of Lin’s sister and Grandpa Martin sitting together on a bench and laughing at something in the distance.

“We took this right over there.” Lin points to a shady spot near the main building. “Martin had returned with food. He stole two bottles of rice wine from the Japanese soldiers, and we drank it, and we had a little party. It was so special, that day. War was dark and terrible all around us. Martin gave us little sips of laughter and light. Maybe that is what kept us alive. More than the food.” Lin’s voice drifts.

An ancient man and three women shuffle toward us. “Here they are,” Lin says to Gram.

Gram’s still holding the teddy bear.

“These are the last of the people White Ghost saved,” Lin says.

None of them speaks English. Lin translates story after story of Grandpa Martin’s selflessness and heroism as these people are reduced to tears. I wish so badly Grandpa could be here to feel their gratitude.

“So I brought you all the way here for a couple reasons,” Gram says, pointing to all of us. “I racked my brain to think of a way to honor Martin and the people he helped.” She makes her way over to Lin and Bing. “Bing, we’ll need you to translate.” Gram straightens her tailored navy blouse and touches her pearls.

She nods toward Bing. “I would like to announce the Martin O’Neill, White Ghost, Scholarship Program. Each year, a committee, chosen by you and your children, will select a deserving young person from your village to receive full college tuition, including room and board.” She stops and waits for Bing to translate.

One of the women in the group claps. The others follow.

“I would like to appoint Martin’s son, William O’Neill, as the North Foundation point person and ambassador to your lovely village.”

Uncle Billy looks surprised.

“You good with that, Bill?” Gram says.

“Of course, Mom. I’m honored.”

“Daddy would be proud,” she says, reaching up to touch Uncle Billy’s face.

Gram motions to the people to join her on the bench in the gazebo. We’re all awkwardly standing around, ready to wrap things up, when Gram yanks the head off the teddy bear.

“What are you doing, Assy?” Wes says.

“I’m taking out Martin. Bobby, help me unscrew the top here. Surprise! Martin’s been with us all this time. Bob said I’d have to fuss with Customs if I claimed his ashes, so I smuggled him in this bear.”

My hands get sweaty. My grandpa’s charred remains are inside a teddy bear.

“I gave Martin my word I’d find a way to scatter his ashes here.”

“Here? You’re going to scatter Dad now?” Mom says.

Gram nods. Lin and the others walk toward a steep drop at the edge of the temple grounds. I guess they were privy to this information.

I stay back with Enzo. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I try to take a yoga breath, but it gets stuck. “No.”

“Maddie, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this. I’m freaked the f*ck out right now. What if a finger falls out or a toe or his nose?” I sit on the bench and put my head between my knees. Enzo rubs my back.

“It’s okay. I’m here. They’re all down at the base of the lot saying a prayer or something. It’ll be over soon.”

That was not fair of Gram to smuggle Grandpa in a teddy bear.

It takes only a few minutes. They must have dumped the whole thing over the bank, like my grandfather was the remains of somebody’s barbecue pit.

I give a weak bow to the old people as everybody says their good-byes. Now that I think of it, bowing might be more of a Japanese thing, but I can’t really keep track of Asian customs at this moment.

Jeb comes over. “This is it, Maddie. You had better get your shit together and say good-bye. He’s not waiting on the shelf in Gram’s study for you to get over your issues.” For once, my brother isn’t being an *. He means it. I squeeze Enzo’s hand and let go. I walk alone to the edge of the cliff.