Brothers 3

Chapter 39

Robert took them to a spot in the woods next to the river. The bubbling of the water was like a lullaby and dragonflies and other insects zipped about. Along the riverside there were tall red flowers and reeds. The trees stopped a few feet from the edge of the water, leaving a grassy bank open to the sun. The grass was lime in the light and swayed in the summer breeze.

It was here, in this beautiful place, that he had buried their father. At the edge of the trees there were two stones. One had a rose plant one it with two flowers and three thorns. Their father had designed it for their mother after she died. The plot where she was buried had long ago been covered by grass. The stone was grey with a layer of moss on top. It was only up to James's knees, so he had to stoop to scrape the moss off. There was no name on the makeshift headstone. Their father had said that the Morris name was dangerous even in death. If someone saw who was buried there then they might have dug her up to get one over on them. James couldn't imagine who would stoop so low.

Right next to this stone was a larger one, made of some black shiny rock. Engraved on this stone was a crown with three spikes on it. Trust him to want a crown even in death, James thought.

The ground in front of the stone was disturbed, fresh grass only starting to sprout. James had almost forgotten that it had only been a few months since their father had called them all back to the house. Whether he had done it to say goodbye or have the last word was a point of debate between the three of them. Yet it didn't seem to matter anymore. So much had happened in the last while that James was sure he had aged more than he ever had before. Would his father be proud of him now? He doubted it. Richard had never been a fan of werewolves and now James was living with a pack of them. On the other hand, he had been keen on fighting and winning and they had certainly done enough of that.

"I expected it to be scary for some reason." Eddie laughed nervously and rubbed his arms.

Robert shook his head. "This is just a final resting place. He is at peace."

James didn't agree. As far as he was concerned his father was gone. This place was a reminder of him that James was beginning to see he didn't need. Everything he did made him think of the man, even if he didn't want to. He had come here today not to remember him but to say the goodbye he should have said long ago. This wasn't about love; he didn't know if he could say he loved a man who was always so cold. This was about letting go. He didn't need to please his father anymore, but he needed to give him a send-off. For better or worse, his father had made him who he was today, a survivor.

"I don't know what to say," James said.

Robert squeezed his shoulder. "That's okay, he wasn't much for words anyway."

Eddie scratched the top of his head. "Maybe we should just sit for a bit. You know, let it sink in until we know what to say."

It wasn't often that James agreed with Eddie, but he had to admit the idea appealed to him. In truth there was nothing he could say to sum up how he felt. When his father was first gone he was sure he was happy about it. The man was a cruel and cold taskmaster. He never hugged them or smiled and always pushed them to achieve more and be better. Yet he was never far from James's thoughts. Despite his better judgement James wondered what he would do or say whenever he was in trouble. Maybe that meant he missed him, but he didn't understand it.

The three of them sat on the grass at the edge of the graves. Being here with his brothers made James's mind drift back to another day when they had all been together outside.

It had been the middle of the night and a blood moon, a sacred night to werewolves. Richard had woken the three boys to show them the moon, saying that they needed to learn what it meant to the wolves and that more of them would be out during it. He marched them into the woods and hid with them while watching the wolves celebrate the night, dancing around fires and things.