The Odd Life of Cornelius Tessington

As Cold As Ice

"I'm home! Mother! Father! I'm home!!!" I shouted, parting the blanket to inside. My skin was numb, I could barely feel my feet and I was sure my hair was blanketed in a light dousing of fresh snow. My father was on the bed, looking the same as when I last saw him. I pressed my fingers to his pulse, holding my breath to feel something, anything! Shutting my eyes I prayed with all my might for a gentle beat, a pulse of some sort. But I felt...nothing. I pressed my head to his sweat stained chest, listening as hard as I could.

"Father, father please, please just take a breath. I have a cure, I have something to help you! You just need to wake up!!!" I whispered, voice shaking. Again, nothing. I struggled with the jar of warm honey, my fingers slipping as they trembled. Eventually I put it down, pressing my head back against his chest, my heart aching for any sign he was still alive.

"Daddy, please, please! Your Edith is here, your baby. I'm not too late, I'm not too late, I can save you! Just...just..." I bit my lip as hot, fresh sorrow poured out of me, my arms wrapping around his chest, under the stench of sickness I could smell the lightest fragrance of coal, the coal they'd burn at his work, where they'd make glass and he'd sneak back little nubs of glass that no one wanted. He would always come home and pull me into his strong arms, lifting me into the air. Making me fly with the wings I had always ached for. I gripped him tighter to me, whispering over and over,

"Daddy, your Edith is here, I'm here daddy, I'm not too late for you." Yet no matter what I said, no matter what I did, he did not stir. My heart broke into a thousand pieces and I buried my face against his chest, one word spinning in my head. Gone, gone, gone, gone. I was too late, too late to save him. Why was it everyone I loved got hurt? I gripped his shirt so tightly my fingers cracked as I struggled to hold myself together. But it was a memory that broke me, the memory of being only five and waking up from a nightmare. I had been crying and calling out for my mother, though I knew she was at work.

"Momma, momma help me! Save me!" I had wailed, tears streaming down my round cheeks as I reached blindly for comfort. A pair of hands had scooped me up and I'd clung fiercely to their owner, listening to the deep voice of my rescuer.

"It's okay Edith, Daddy's here. Daddy is here to save you." I had never let him go that night, frightened the monsters would get me if I did. He too hadn't let go, not once had his grip loosened. I was suddenly five again, but only this time, he would never be able to hold me again. Never would he be able to comfort me. I would never hear his voice again. He was gone. My throat tightened and I kissed his forehead, unable to speak. He had fought so hard for so long, and in the end, he had lost. I had been through so much today that my head spun and my ankle, now no longer driven by needy adrenaline, throbbed in agony. Falling to my knees I clasped my hands in prayer, whispering in a broken voice.

"Please take care of him God, he deserved to stay here a little longer. Just a little longer with us. Make sure he's happy up there. Tell him his wife and his...his daughter love him very much. And they miss him, they miss him a lot." By the time I was done my eyes were too blurry with tears and my throat too swollen with emotion. I sat there for what felt like hours, just remembering every good moment with my father, every second he'd been on this earth with me. That's when I heard a soft voice behind me.

"He passed only two hours ago darling. And, before he did, he told me that he hoped you were happy, because something inside him said that now, you're life would be for the better. He loves you and he says he'll miss you every day he's gone." My mother had no tears in her eyes, she looked like she had exhausted all of them while I was away. I bit my lip to keep another onslaught of tears from overwhelming me. Instead I turned to the subject at hand, knowing it would take weeks for me to finish grieving. Wiping my face I handed her the jar of golden liquid, making her gasp in surprise.

"Edith, is this..." I nodded, pulling a loose blanket around my cold frame.

"Cornelius gave me the money to buy it. It's a gift from him to us." I mumbled, trying hard not to focus any more on my sadness. If I did, grief would sure kill me. She hugged her tightly, welcoming with her warm embrace.

"He must really care." I closed my eyes, exhausted and drained.

"Yes...he does."