Where The Red Fern Grows Epilogue

Epilogue

     It's been forever. I think I'm ready. Today I am driving to my childhood house. As I was driving through town, I got choked up a bit. I saw Grandpa's store, now operated by someone named Ruben. I almost cried remembering their deaths. I was twenty when it happened. He passed away in his sleep. Grandma died of Heartache. That made me even sadder because it reminded me of Old Dan and Little Ann. I sped up. Finally, I came to my old house. There was a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. I wonder who is living there. Then I looked to the hill where I buried my dogs and I just stared. I didn't notice the tears rolling down my cheeks. And I didn't notice the man come out of the house and ask me if I was okay. He asked me again and my trance was broken. I told him I was fine just that I was looking at the hill where the giant red fern grows. Where I buried my dogs. He said, "You're him?!" "Yeah..." "Well... I'll give you some privacy." He replied. I walked up to the hill and knelt by my dogs. I had bought two coon hides back at home. I placed one over each grave. I stood up. I felt the mountain breeze and smelt the amazing and wonderful scent of the papa, the dogwoods, and the redbuds. I sat down, leaning on the tree behind the holy fern, and I close my eyes for the last time. I drew my final breath. Finally, I am with my dogs again.