I Fell in Love with Hope(85)

They were a father’s I love yous.

Eric opens the box.

“Goodnight, Sony,” he whispers. “I hope you find your everything.”

Her ashes spring free in the shape of wings. Wind carries the sheer gray cloud into the sky, dusted rain settling on the waves that give it passage to other worlds.

I take ahold of Eric’s hand as he lets the box sink into the water. He wipes his face and looks out as far as the horizon stretches, watching Sony take the shape of water.

When the cold begins numbing his limbs, Eric retires to the beach. He sits in the sand, Neo and C retiring with him.

Hikari lingers a little longer in the shallows. I stay with her, helping her return the seashells in her pockets to their home. The only one she keeps is the black stone I gave her. She traces the white band with her finger.

“Is it always like this?” she asks. “It just happens, and we get no say in it?”

Laughter sounds in the far distance. Hikari catches the silhouettes of those strangers playing on the shore. They run into the water, shrieking from the temperature. One hugs the other, splashing and spinning. Their laughter fades in its travel, like a song playing too far away, a story too far to read.

“I didn’t even know her very long,” Hikari says, tucking the stone back into her pocket. “It feels like I started to love her and never got to finish.”

Love isn’t a thing that’s ever finished, I want to tell her. It’s not a chronological feat. Her love for Sony is based in gentle affections, loud adventures, and the little pieces of friendship people tend to overlook. It does not end simply because we had to say goodbye.

Hikari sighs. When she does, she feels lighter somehow, not quite as full as before.

Grief can be destructive, a parasite that needs expulsion, water rising till you become an overflowing dam, but like most terrible, necessary things, it can be shared. Time is kind with grief. It takes it from you, piece by piece, till the sorrow is a song you remember the beat of but no longer hear.

I take Hikari by the wrist, coaxing it from her pocket. The stone is still in her palm. I snake my hand down her arm and intertwine our fingers so that the gem can be cradled rather than clutched.

“Look Sam,” she breathes. With our joined hands, she points at the evening turning to night. The sky kisses our angry sea with gold and red tints, breaking through the clouds to caress the ripples.

“The sea’s on fire.”

—

Before we leave the beach, C has a panic attack.

He cries, the sunset’s light casting shadows on his face. He covers it with a hand, the other holding Neo. It’s the sort of crying that trembles through his jaw. The kind of crying that tightens in his chest and he chooses to fight rather than allow escape.

“Here, sit down,” Neo says. He guides C to the grassy area by the parking lot. C stumbles when he walks, his legs shaking. He falls onto his seat bones, nearly taking Neo down with him.

“Stay here,” Neo says. “I’ll get your mom.”

“No, don’t go,” C begs. He grabs Neo by his pants and wraps his arms around his legs, tucking his face to Neo’s stomach, eyes shut tight.

Neo lets him, cupping his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do it,” C says. “I can’t go back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to give it up, Neo.” C’s words become humid, his forehead wrinkling with every breath. He shakes his head, choking on the air, the voice of a child running from a nightmare in his throat. “I want to keep my heart.”

That word is practically a curse spoken from C’s mouth. Neo’s hands stroking C’s head and back, trying to comfort him, still at the sound of it.

“Coeur,” he says.

“I want to keep it.” C grasps Neo tighter. “I don’t want another.”

Neo tries to pull C off of him to no avail.

“Coeur, stop.”

“I’m not doing it.” C shakes his head, suffocating himself in Neo’s hoodie. “I won’t go through with it. I can’t.”

“Coeur,” Neo struggles, pushing and squirming. “You’re not thinking straight–”

“I can’t Neo.”

“Coeu–”

“I can’t–”

“Coeur, you’ll die! Are you listening to me? You’ll die.” Neo shoves C back by the shoulders, holding him there. “Your heart can’t keep up with your body anymore and you can’t just pretend that nothing is wrong, waiting for it to stop beating.”

“No, no–this heart is what makes me me,” C says, pointing at his chest. He meets Neo’s gaze, affection and fear mingling in the mix. “My heart beats with thunder and lightning and I know it’s weak, but it’s the one I gave you.”

Neo clenches his fists with C’s jacket and shakes his head.

“You don’t get to do this.”

“I’m scared, Neo.”

“I know you’re scared! I’m scared too, but you’re not allowed to give up!”

“What if this fear means something? What if the transplant doesn’t work?” C’s trembling travels down his body. He puts his hands over Neo’s, staring into his eyes as if he never quite got a chance to look at him long enough before now.