falling from the stars

ch. 18

Is it a kind of a dream
Floating out on the tide
Following the river of death downstream
Oh, is it a dream?
There's a fog along the horizon
A strange glow in the sky
And nobody seems to know where it goes
And what does it mean?
Oh, is it a dream?
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail?
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly burn so pale?
Bright eyes
________
(the day of the incident)
Billie Joe was sat upon the shingles of his roof. Smoke curled around him as he exhaled his cigarette. He had tossed and turned the whole night, so he crawled up here and decided to stay up to watch the sunrise. In the past few hours, Billie had just been sitting there, clearing his head and focusing on the moment. He focused too much on what ifs. He had to learn how to move on.

The sky turned a tangerine orange and lemonade pink, a gentle breeze blowing by. Billie hadn't felt this peaceful since that one time with his dad.

( August 29, 1982 )

Laughter rang out of little Billie Joe's mouth, his footsteps quick and graceful. He had to find a place to hide, where he can't be found. Giggling, he hid under a bush.

"Billie! I'm gonna getcha!" Billie squeaked.

He heard footsteps approaching him. Billie tried to breathe as quietly as possible, but couldn't help his giggling. The world went silent. Billie was suddenly alert. Maybe Dad left?

"Boo!" Billie yelped and jumped, swiftly caught in a pair of familiar strong arms. Andrew laughed. Billie swatted at his dad, angry that his hiding place wasn't good enough. He always strived to be the best. Andrew ignored the hands slapping at him and scooped the young boy up into his arms, carrying him to the center of the field. It was a cloudy day, but you could smell the flowers and trees. He set Billie down in the center of a few clovers and sat down next to him, plucking one of the flowers out of the ground. He often took Billie here when they needed to forget about the world. It was Billie's favorite place. They called it "Suburbia," which Andrew found funny because the meadow was urban, not suburban. When he tried to explain that to Billie, he had been met with a weird look.

Billie glanced over at his father, who was staring down at his worn knuckles, which read 'rage and love.' His father was his biggest inspiration, his best friend.

"Billie, can your old man tell you something?"

"Of course, Dad."

"You know, there's going to be a day when I'm not gonna be around anymore, right?"

"Yes, I know that Dad."

"And you know that day could be any day at any given moment, right?"

"Yes, Dad."

"When that day comes, I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"I need you to be strong. I need you to spread love and peace. I need you to make music, share happiness throughout the world. I need you to do the things I never got to do. You're the son of Rage and Love," He whispered, staring down at his knuckles. "One last thing. I need you to never forget about me. I will live on in your heart until the day you die. Can you do that for me?"

Billie felt sad. He didn't like thinking about a world without Dad. But he loved him, and wanted him to be happy.

"Yes, yes I can, Dad."

About 2 weeks later, Andrew Armstrong passed away of cancer.

The sun was almost completely risen now, throwing out shades of crimson and citrus across the horizon. Billie sighed.

He had no idea how to fulfill his promise.