Journey's Child

21

I woke up feeling achy and tired. My room was cold; the lack of light filled it with a gray, misty haze that hurt my head. I looked down at the sound of rustling paper, to find Linda's picture lying next to me. Everything came rushing in, like a giant fan blowing my sorrow from last night, back at me. I began to cry as the loss of all the people I loved hit me.

I got out of bed shivering from the cold I didn't feel. All I felt was an empty ache in the pit of my stomach. It was still early, 7:12 according to the clock. I got dressed in a daze, grabbing whatever piece of clothing was closest to me. I got some tape from the kitchen and hung Linda's picture next to my bed.

I remembered Thad was going to paint on my beach, so I grabbed a slice of bread with some jam spread on it, we didn't have a toaster, and headed out the door to wait for him by the red rocks.

*

I thought about what my mother had written in her notebook. She said she felt sad, but I didn't really see her acting sad. She remembered things the way I did, and that made me feel good. Those memories were real because we both had them. I wished she had written more. They made me feel like I was there again when I read the words. Maybe I would ask her if she had more family stories written somewhere.

Then I remembered how mad I was at her. Why hadn't she told me about Linda? Maybe she didn't want me to feel sad or maybe she just didn't want to deal with it.

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Thad and Captain coming down the trail. I waved but Thad had his hands full, so he tipped his head towards me.

"Hi," I shouted as they made their way closer. Captain ran past me towards the beach like he had never seen the ocean before. He ran in and out of the waves and barked a playful tune.

"Good morning, Gilly. How are you today?" Thad asked.

I had gone through so many emotions since I last saw him that I didn't know where to start. I'd had a scary dream, been dragged down 'memory lane' by my mother's writing and found out my friend had died - all in the last fifteen hours. Instead of answering, I just walked beside him, taking comfort from his presence. He began to set up his easel and unfold his stool. He glanced over at me. My eyes suddenly welled up with tears I couldn't control, and I gave a big sigh.

"What's wrong, Gilly?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

I shook my head, hoping I wouldn't start crying.

"Gilly, something's wrong. Can you tell me?"

I wanted to answer him, to make him understand that I was okay, but everything I'd been through got caught in my chest and couldn't come out.

"You can take your time. When you're ready to tell me, I'll listen, okay?"

I managed to nod my head and give him a weak smile.

As Thad continued to set up, I went to walk at the edge of the tide as it rolled over the sand in such a gentle, soft way, that it seemed to call me to it. Once Captain saw me, he ran past through the water, splashing me. He continued to run in circles around me, always close enough to throw water over my legs. Finally, he got me to laugh and I reached into the surf, throwing water on him as he ran past me at an amazing speed. I walked and ran and waded with him for a long time, letting the heaviness in my chest lift and float away for a while. I went to check out what Thad was painting. I stood behind him and looked at his canvas. He had drawn the beach and tide line in pencil and had just started to add the cliffs at the other end of the beach.

"Are you doing another seascape?" I asked.

"No, I think I might add something more for interest. You know I don't just paint seascapes, I paint people and even Captain has graced my paintings."

I smiled and reached down to pet Captain, who was wet and sandy. "You're famous, Captain. Did you know that?"

He just panted, looking pleased to be with us.

I felt a sorrow for everything that had been coming at me lately. I knew that Thad had his own sorrow too. I guess that's what made me ask the question. "Did you ever paint your daughter?"

He looked over at me, then down at his hands. I think he knew the question was coming because he didn't seem surprised.

"Yes," he said. "I used to put her in my paintings quite a bit. From the time she could walk up to..."

His voice trailed off. I didn't want him to be sad, so I told him about Linda. "The friend I met here last month, the one I told you about - died. I found out by reading a letter her mom sent my mom."

"Oh, Gilly, I'm so sorry," Thad said softly.

"Linda had leukemia and was real sick. She told me she was going to die, but I hoped I'd get to see her again, when she came back this way to go home." I was crying now, sobbing actually, and it felt good. Thad turned towards me and wrapped me in a warm hug. It felt comforting to have human contact. I couldn't remember when my mother had hugged me last.

"It's heartbreaking to lose people we love and need, but they aren't ever completely gone," Thad said as he held me.

I looked up at him questioningly. "Do you really believe that?"

"I do. Not to believe that is to have lost my little girl forever. I refuse to think that has happened."

"What was her name?" I asked as I sat down on a sandy mound next to his stool.

"Heather."

"That's a beautiful name."

"It's a Scottish plant. I have some Scottish blood on my mother's side. My wife wanted to name her something more sophisticated, but I kept telling her the legends and lore behind the name, and she finally agreed."

"What legends?" I asked.

He looked over at me to make sure I was really interested, then he continued. "White Heather is considered to be lucky, although it's often associated with war or conflict. I guess maybe because it's not as abundant as purple Heather. White Heather, and this is why I chose it for her, is believed in Scottish lore to mark the final resting place for faeries."

"I like that," I said. "Does white Heather grow around here?"

"Not that I've seen. I planted some Heath around the house. It grows well in this climate and it's a Scottish plant too. It reminds me of my mother and Heather."

"Linda drew me a picture," I said, wanting to share. "It's a picture of her and my brother Sam walking on the beach, collecting shells. They both have white angel wings." I stopped talking as a wave of sorrow began to wash over me again.

We were both silent for a while, then Thad said, "Gilly, have you ever been to the Sea Lion Caves?"

"No," I replied looking up at him.

"Well, I think we should go. Maybe your mom would like to come also, what do you think?"

"She said we would go sometime. I bet she'd like to see them too. When can we go?"

Thad laughed at my sudden excitement. "Let's ask your mom when I'm finished painting. Then we'll see when she wants to plan it. Okay?"

"Sure!" I said, grinning from ear to ear. I was happy. This was going to be great!

Q+DB^