Fading Desert Footprints (Complete)

'Three things cannot be hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.' Buddha

I am lounging in my seat, a leg dangling over the right armrest as usual. I catch a flicker of light to my left. I glance over, and discover flames sliding up the staircase wall like snakes, multiplying as they move. I need to get outside quickly. I reach the door as the flames chase me. I hear a distant cry,

"Daddy!"

It's Kelly; she's upstairs in her bedroom. I turn and face a wall of fire. The stairs are unapproachable.

"Go out the window!" I shout, and run outside. I race around the corner to where her window should be, except I'm not at my house anymore; I am twenty floors up on the ledge of an unfinished steel and concrete building. I turn and the wall of fire is still blocking my way. There is no railing, so I jump to the neighbouring deck, and proceed into the structure. I run the length of this floor to the other side, and stop on another unrailed balcony. I shout out her name,

"Kelly?" I look around, and down to the empty dark street below. I hear her again, fainter than before,

"Daddy, where are you?"

"I'm right here!" I shout as my voice cracks with strain. I notice her silhouette in an identical unfinished apartment directly across the street; she is on an opposite balcony twenty floors high, facing me, but with an abyss between us. The other building is also engulfed in flames. Her silhouette disappears into the smoky darkness of the interior. I turn, to search for a way down, but slip on the dusty concrete and fall off the ledge.

***

Despite sleeping in my bed instead of the chair, I wake with aches that shoot up my back. I swivel, and then slowly rise, easing the rust from my spine like an old bike chain. I acknowledge these morning pains as a result of growing old. I expect it, and I'm thankful when I wake up with them. Once, a few months ago, I awoke without any discomfort, and sat on the bed for several minutes, wondering if I was still alive.

I trudge downstairs, make coffee, and stare at the wall.

I review the next few days. Tomorrow, I will go to the crematorium. The next day, I pack for Sudan, and pick up Kelly's ashes. I haven't decided what to do with them, so I will leave the urn on the living room table while I ponder it on my travels. I depart in three days.

Yesterday, during my walk home from the centre, I had thought about my upcoming trip. I recall that in my research prior to the Egypt excursion, there was a footnote that mentioned an ancient Nubian kingdom of Kush. They also made pyramids. The capital was Meroe, which happens to be in Northern Sudan. My task this morning, before heading to the centre, is to find and book a side trip there.

There is a knock at the door. I nearly spill my coffee and become irritated. Before moving, I try to predict who it could be, and review some possibilities. Officer Johnson would phone if anything else was needed. I am expecting the WFP package tomorrow. Mel? Jack? I don't want to answer it, but I need to.

I grudgingly open the door, and there are three young adults, two women and one man. All three have long hair down their backs. Both women stand the average five feet four inches; one is brunette, the other blond. The tall man is also blond, and sporting a ZZ-Top type beard. He is wearing a strange rainbow coloured toque; the kind that a grandmother would knit and present at Christmas. That would be the only reason for wearing it.

They look tired, and have Officer Johnson's puppy dog sadness look.

"Mr. Rembrandt?" asks the brunette.

I nod, glancing at each of them.

"We are Kelly's friends," she adds.

There is an awkward silence. I have never met them. It never occurred to me that Kelly still had friends here.