I Fell in Love with Hope(84)

“Neo, we’ll find her later,” C says. “We have to go now.”

But C isn’t the only one who’s disconnected. Upon C’s words, Neo finally looks up.

“I’m not allowed to leave,” he says.

C frowns. “What? Why not?”

“I haven’t eaten.”

Neo’s head droops, not in shame, but in preoccupation. C notices then, the pills and food tray that have gone untouched on the side table and he isn’t tender as he usually is.

“Then eat,” he bites.

Neo stares at C, a glaze over his eyes, subconsciously forming a loop around his wrist. He becomes a statue, untouchable. He looks like if you touch him, he will combust, the tightly wound knots of his muscles will snap, and he will come undone.

“I need to find Hee,” he whispers. Then, he goes back to searching the same places yet again.

“Neo,” C says. “This is important.”

“It won’t make a difference. I can’t leave. We went too far this time, and I can’t go. There’s nothing I can do–Hee, where are you? Come out.”

“Neo–”

“I have to find her!” Neo’s voice cracks. He spins around to face us, his breaths short and fast, the marble of his statue cracking. A glossy layer of tears pools at his waterline.

“Neo.” Hikari.

C and I both turn to see her standing at the door, picking a wobbly cat up in her arms.

“Neo, she’s right here. Look,” she says.

Neo comes to a frenzied stop.

“Hee,” he whispers, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Hikari hands him the cat. Neo huffs with relief, his brows arching as his lip trembles.

“I’m sorry for being mean,” he says, swaddling her. “I’m sorry. Don’t run away again.”

Hee meows at him.

Neo sniffles, checking her chipped ear, the stump where her fourth leg should be. His feet give out from under him, as if they’ve been carrying a weight so heavy they can no longer bear him.

“Neo–” C tries to keep him upright, but Hikari is the one who catches him, like a doorframe he can lean on as he descends to the floor.

“It doesn’t feel real,” he says, his voice muffled in Hee’s fur. “It feels like a joke. It feels like another one of her jokes.” He inhales as if drowning. “She left me her cat. A lawyer came and put papers on the desk. She left me her clothes too. She left me her stupid cat and her clothes and her sneakers she knew she was going to die and I was mean to her and it doesn’t feel real.”

“It’s alright,” Hikari whispers, hugging him.

“I just keep pretending she’s off somewhere stealing from a toy store or racing a homeless person or something. And then, this and–” He motions with one arm to where an unopened suitcase and dirty white sneakers fill the dank corner. “Her kids asked me when she’s coming back. Because she hasn’t finished reading them their story and they looked up at me, and they asked when is Miss Sony coming back.” He looks at Hikari, guilt manifesting into tears and rolling down his cheeks.

“She didn’t finish the story,” he repeats, tucking his face into Hikari’s shoulder. “She never got to know the ending.”

“It’s okay,” Hikari says again. She rubs his back up and down. “It’s okay. She’s with her mom. She has her mom now, she’s not alone.”

“Hey.” Eric. He walks in wearing his own clothes, a wrinkled shirt, an old jacket, and sleeplessness in his eyes. He pats down matted hair and clears his throat. We draw to the box sitting in his arms.

He looks at Neo. “I called your mom.” A short word of approval. Locking and unlocking his jaw, he motions to the hall. “Let’s go.”

—

The drive is silent. An uncomfortable opposite. Beyond my window, the ocean gleams the same as it did the first time I saw it. Gulls fly their paths, the wind trekking the waves.

For how monumental death can be, the sea doesn’t stop to notice. Too many of her sailors met their end swallowed by her tide.

But Sony adored the sea. I like to believe that the sea is angry for her. Why else would she crash against the cliff sides and crawl with foamy fingers to land if not to search for the passion that’s been stolen from the world?

Eric parks the car, C’s parents right behind. The walk to the beach is akin to the drive.

Our bare feet mingle with the sand. The salt spray and tart taste give us a glimpse into the near past. Further down the stretch of land, I can make out shapes of people dipping into the ocean, running across the bank, and sitting in the dunes.

Eric carries Sony’s ashes to the threshold between land and sea. He doesn’t bother adjusting his clothes. The water soaks through his pants above his knees.

C’s parents wait on shore. With Neo and Hikari’s help on either side, C walks into the water. It’s cold, icy stones and shells in the silt.

Eric asks us if we’d like to say a few words. We do, each of us saying a little something to the empty expanse. Logically, we know Sony can’t hear us, but this isn’t really for Sony at all.

Eric caresses the surface of the box. He presses his forehead to it and closes his eyes. A moment passes and I remember those days Sony fell asleep hooked up to a ventilator. I remember how he used to cry and choke it all down so she wouldn’t wake. I remember the whispers I could never make out that he spoke every night after tucking her in. It’s only now, as I hear it up close, that I realize they weren’t renditions of goodnights or little reminders to stay alive or anything so confined to a nurse-patient relationship.