Haley Thistle
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Ghost Boyfriend: Ebernote (rough draft)
🕑 Added 2020-12-08 21:01:00 +0000 UTCEbernote was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. The register was signed by all according and his lawyer had requested my presence. I did not need to see the body, nor have any shred of proof aside from that. Ebernote’s lawyer was as secretive and silent as a mouse. So if you saw him, you knew there was a bigger problem.
For decades Ebernote and I had been business partners. It started with my husband, who had been the original Coulthurst on the sign of ‘Coulthurst & Thursby’. My husband died young, though, and I became the Coulthurst on the sign. Ebernote had tried to buy me out, but I was no fool, I was no weeping widow. I knew what the business was worth, so I would not let him buy one cent of my husband’s shares.
The North Pole was a bitter place, although it shared the same glittering veneer as its southern neighbor, Pirlipat. It was more like its sister kingdom of Miror; pretty to look at, but lots of crawling things below that surface. I suppose Ebernote and I were one of those crawling things. But the North Pole was a cold place, and through our business, we kept it warm.
The coal mines had been a happy accident, property that Ebernote and my husband bought in their youth. They had intended other things with it, but the discovery of coal changed everything. It would for anybody, of course, but Ebernote had grander schemes in mind.
I was merely seeing my husband back then. Being courted, I suppose, would be the correct way to put it. Of course, back then, I had true fondness for Hugh. It wasn't about money then, although it would turn into that later.
During Ebernote’s funeral, I was struck with my first memory of him. I was young, just finished school, and was seeing Hugh for the first time in months. I was excited to step off the train and see him waiting for me. Instead there was a man there who looked quite strange compared to the rest of the people on the platform. Ebernote always had his size working for him. He was tall, standing head and shoulders above everyone else. He was also thin and willowy, with limbs that looked unencumbered by gravity. His movements flowed so easily, like water or clouds. He seemed to drift above the world, afraid it would sully his shoes.
“You must be Sybyll,” he said with a voice as deep and endless as his coal mine. “Pleasure to meet you, I am your husband’s business partner.”
I looked around with a smile, like this was some sort of joke. “Mr. Thursby?” I said, still expecting Hugh to pop out from somewhere. “I’ve been told a great deal about you.” I offered him my hand, still surprised Hugh had not mentioned Ebernote’s countenance to me before.
Ebernote kissed the side of my hand rather than my knuckles, which was odd, but at the same time, strangely alluring.
His dark eyes were focused upon me, and his thin brows were pinched in such a way he looked angry. But I would soon realize that was just how he always looked. “Hugh got caught up at work and asked me to tend to you. He asked me to take you home so you could rest.”
I smiled graciously, although I felt quite odd before him. “If he is still at the office, you can take me there. Perhaps I can help with whatever has him bogged down.”
“He is at the mines, sweet Sybyll,” Ebernote replied. “Not a place for a fine lady such as yourself. If you are not tired, though, perhaps I could take you to get something to eat.”
I should have told him to take me home, but instead I went along with him to dinner. I also went to bed with him that evening. I am not sure what came over me, perhaps it was an affliction of girlish rebellion, maybe even that I was mad Hugh chose the mines over me. Whatever it was, Ebernote seduced me, and I cannot deny the immense pleasure I took in his bed.
I married Hugh anyways, and while he was alive, Ebernote and I carried out our affair when his back was turned. Hugh was sweet and doting, but he also ignored most things in our marriage. To Hugh, I was a pretty trapping for his home, but to Ebernote, I was alive and vital. Much like the coal mine, Ebernote saw something more in me than Hugh did.
Hugh’s death was written as an accident, but rumors still spread. After all, Hugh was worth more to me dead than alive, and I was not a well liked woman within our circle. They called me cold and aloof, and because I had an education in Miror, they thought I felt I was above them. Rumors that I had him killed spread extremely quickly. I had to separate myself for a while, as my son was at an age where those things could seep in and affect him. That was when Ebernote tried to buy me out of my business.
I returned home then, and if they thought I was cold before, they couldn’t not see the frost that was coming. If they thought I felt above them all, they would know it now. I was Sybyll Coulthurst, and I was going to make them all see who and what I was.
My affair with Ebernote ended, although the effects of it still rippled through our contentious business affairs. We grew old together, and I thought for sure we hated one another. He always held it over my head how my son, Augustine, looked nothing like his father. Augustine was tall and thin, elegant and beautiful. Why did he have to grow to make my sins so obvious? But I was his mother and his father for most of his life. He received the finest education money could buy, and he grew up to be a fine man. Although, I do not see him much now. He lives in Pirlipat with his wife and children, but I do still receive letters from him from time to time. During Christmas, we always exchange beautiful cards. But because of Ebernote’s death, I cannot remember if I have sent him mine.
Ebernote held his funeral, like the true malicious force that he was, on Christmas Eve. Aside from the priest, I was the only one in attendance. I wore red, because I knew he would hate it. He never liked the color, hated the red that was infused into every aspect of the North Pole.
I met his lawyer afterwards, going to his office upon the special request. The poor man looked relieved. Ebernote’s hooks had been removed from him, he could probably breathe now. I was still waiting to exhale as the final hook to be removed from me was this lawyer.
“As you may know, Mrs. Coulthurst, Ebernote had no surviving relatives, no next of kin, no-”
“I am aware,” I cut him off, fearing my son’s name might come out of his mouth. “Ebernote was a loner until the bitter end. I just feel sorry for his maid who had to find him.” I stiffen my neck. “So now tell me, sir, what has the old fool done? What are his machinations for me?”
He looks down and takes out a heavy envelope that is sealed off with black wax. He breaks the wax and pulls out paper from inside. He reads them before looking up at me.
“He has left you everything.”
The air seizes inside my lungs and my ribs threaten to crack. “He did what?”
“He’s left you the entirety of his estate, his share of the business, his assets and-” I yank the paper from his hand and look it over incredulously.
“He never gives anyone anything! What is the catch?” I spit.
He takes up the second sheet and nods. I see his eyes darting and lips moving rapidly as he reads. “This is strange.”
I slam my palm down on the desk. “Well?”
He clears his throat then nods. “His one stipulation is that you spend a night in his home.”
I furrow my brow. “What?”
“Effective immediately.”
I continue to stare down at this poor man like he is insane. “That is the most ludicrous thing I have ever heard! What was he thinking? I know he was of sound mind up until his death. But this is-” I begin to laugh, tittering then guffawing, throwing my head back with laughter. “Fine! I’ll play your silly game, Ebernote. One last one until you fade from my memory.”
I have been to Ebernote’s home many times, and I was prepared for it. His home was a vault, always locked away, sparse, and cold. I was used to that, but stepping inside today, there was an extra heaviness upon me. The lawyer locked the door behind me and would let me out come morning. Once that lock clicked, I felt something shift. I took a deep breath, letting out a cold trail of steam from my lips.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” I breathe. “You want me to be afraid, don’t you?” I wander inside, going to the parlor. There is no wood by the fireplace, as expected, so I take the side table by his only chair and break it on the floor. I toss the legs inside and set them ablaze.
“For once, there will be some warmth in this place, Ebernote!” I say out loud. I sit down in his chair and sigh heavily as the fire begins to grow. “I’ll sell this place,” I grouse under my breath. “And I’ll buy a home in Pirlipat so I can see my son.”
I hear footsteps from upstairs and I sit upright in the chair. I listen closely, hearing them again in the bedroom. Probably robbers alerted by the maid, maybe even the maid herself come to make off with what she can. I take the sword on the mantle and make my way up the stairs.
“Probably planned this too, old man,” I continue to curse under my breath. “You knew someone would come and try to loot you. That’s why you hired that woman too. Lock me in with thieves and let me die in your home.” I open his bedroom door without hesitation and find it empty.
I look around, breathing in slowly so I can hear. I know the footsteps came from here. I look into his wardrobe, a sea of black. I look in the closet where there is absolutely nothing except a shoe box on the shelf. I then kneel down and look under the bed to find nothing.
As I rise, I see the bed has been left the way it was. He had been found dead on the floor beside his bed, so the way the covers sat showed he had been lying peacefully until something perturbed him enough to rise. The heaviness on me sinks into my skin and weighs upon my bones. I shared this bed with him many times. My son came from this bed.
I turn away from it, grasping at my chest with one hand while the other holds the handle of the sword tightly. I take in deep breaths as my eyes begin to burn with tears. I then see smoke begin to rise from the fireplace, but I just blame it on the fire downstairs.
I move across the room to leave, but I find myself unable. I lay down the sword on the bed and I begin to look through his room. The drawers on his wardrobe don’t hold much, just handkerchiefs and scarves, old gloves and tattered shirts. I take the shoebox from his empty closet, expecting nothing except receipts or old account books. It doesn’t feel heavy, though, in fact, it feels almost empty.
Removing the lid, I see something white and silky inside. I take out a nightgown that had once belonged to me. There was also an unsent letter inside, addressed to the boarding house I lived in after Hugh died, but my name is scribbled out across the front.
I hold up the nightgown, remembering it as a gift from Ebernote not long after we had met. He had gifted it to me in secret, asked me to wear it when I was with him. I had left it behind one night just before Hugh died. I had never thought about it again, but apparently, Ebernote had. I lay it smooth across the bed, looking down upon it like Ebernote had me so many times. I take a deep breath and shake the memories from my mind. I had not thought of them just as I had not thought about this piece of fabric.
I return to the letter, which I sat on the table before the big mirror. I look it over, brow creased. The only letter I had ever received from Ebernote was the one offering to buy Hugh’s portion of the business. Perhaps this was his counter offer, but I had returned to take control before he could send it. Then why keep it? Why not just throw it away? I begin to break the wax seal on the letter and I hear footsteps again.
Turning around, I see nothing but smoke creeping along the floor from the fireplace. It moves more like fog across the floor, but it is pitch black. I feel nervous, but that is just part of the game. isn’t it? I go to open the letter again and the sound of footsteps dragging sounds like it is right behind me. I look up into the mirror before me but I see nothing. I crack the seal and suddenly it feels like there are hands around my throat. They grip onto me, pulling me backwards and away from the mirror. I see nothing in the reflection but my bugged eyes and gaping mouth. The hands drag me backwards and I can hear chains scraping across the floor.
I fight back, dropping to the ground where chains rise up from the smoke. They latch around me but I pull away from them, scrambling to the door. I stand up, bracing upon the knob, and look into the room which has become black and gray with so much smoke. And standing in the center of it is a long, dark figure haggard by thick, copious chains. He lumbers forward, encumbered by their weight. His hand stretches out so I can see the indignant ring upon his finger.
“No,” I whisper. My heart is pounding from its bonds, and I fear that my bones and flesh will not contain it much longer. My eyes widen, and though they are blurred and watery from the struggle, I can see it all too clearly. “This is no possible way. This cannot be!”
“Sweet Sybyll,” his coal mine of a voice cracks.
“No!” I bellow into the smoke. “You are dead! You are dead! You are dead! I watched the casket of Ebernote Thursby be buried today! His body and what remains of him is in the ground with that ring! Whoever you are and whatever your plans are, I know this to be true! Ebernote Thursby is dead, dammit! And whatever you might be, a rotted gut, a horrible headache, but there is no possible way Ebernote Thursby walks this earth!” I spit on the ground.
The hand vanishes but the ring falls and hits against the floor, clattering and rolling until it touches the side of my foot. My chest is shuddering and my breaths come out warbling. I kick the ring and let it roll under the bed.
“Ebernote Thursby is dead,” I say again as sternly as possible. “Not a speck of him remains on this mortal plain.”
I turn to leave, but as I do, something hard hits the back of my head. I scoff in pain and see the ring fall back at my feet. Turning around, I see a figure sitting on the bed, holding that letter. Heavy chains cover his body like a coat, weighing down limbs that once flowed like water in the streams.
“Half of that is correct.” Ebernote says. “I am dead.” He lifts his head and looks at me. His eyes are hollow, his features even more skeletal than last I saw him. “But there is a speck of me here, Sybyll. The sooner you come to accept that, the quicker this night will be over.”
My jaw is stiff, clenched tight as I take in the visage before me. “Ebernote,” I choke out. “I was not expecting you.”
Ebernote smiles and begins to laugh. “I highly doubt you would be, considering that hysterical little monologue you just performed.” He looks to the letter again, turning it in his hand. The chains covering him shift, showing me just how many are hanging from him and haggering his form. He looks hunched and small, a way I had never gazed upon him before. He was always stiff, always high and mighty. I never saw him droop, never lower himself. Even when his knees were weakening, he never allowed anyone to see him struggle.
“Don’t call me hysterical,” I hiss.
Ebernote rises from the bed, holding the envelope before him. “You’re here with me for the night, Sybyll, the first we’ve spent together in decades.”
“I highly doubt it will be like before,” I scoff.
“No. But you will remember those nights, no doubt you’ve already been thinking about them.” He lays the letter onto his chest.
I scowl at him, folding my arms across my chest. “Perhaps this is my guilt coming into play. I am asleep downstairs in that chair, and my guilt is manifesting itself as a dream.”
Ebernote chuckles. “You believe this to be a dream state, fine. I can still speak to you and warn you of what is coming.”
I glare at him. “What? That I will wake from this nightmare and find your lawyer has set me and this house ablaze?”
He stretches out his arms wide and the chains shower down from his limbs. “No, sweet Sybyll, I have come to warn you about your death, which will be soon if you do not listen to me.”
Perhaps this is something to take heed of, after all, they have said dreams can be a window into the unknown and possible keys that will open up to the future. If I am not dreaming, then this could be the start of a new chance for me. But no, I will not fall for such baseless notions. Dreams and reality rarely offers up anything aside hurdles.
“Fine! I’ll die soon!” I turn on my heel and leave the bedroom, but as soon as I do, I step foot out onto a snow bank and topple down it, landing in a cold snowy drift. I look around, seeing a world swept up in white, bright lights hanging in the trees and around the streetlamp, pine trees decorated and shining.
I look back and see the door of the bedroom still there and Ebernote watching me from it. “Now I am assured that I am dreaming!” I stand up from the snow and dust myself off. “I will enjoy myself now with that knowledge.”
Ebernote tilts his head to the side. “What makes you so assured?”
“It was raining when I came in today! There is no snow on the streets or in the park.” I kick snow and then grin up at him. “So this is no reality!”
Ebernote steps into the snow, his chains dragging along with him. “Not the current reality,” he tells me. “But one you are familiar with. Come.” He walks ahead of me, and I see the chains seem endless. They have no beginning, no end, they simply pull behind him.
“Why should I follow you?” I scoff.
He looks back over his shoulder at me. “If it is a dream, why does it matter?”
I roll my eyes and go along with him, trudging through snow until we come upon my home. The door opens and Hugh goes running out, looking panicked and white. He leaves the door wide open so that Ebernote and I walk right in. Right away, I hear myself screaming.
“I recognize this,” I murmur as I look around. I notice a smashed tree ornament on the floor with drops of blood around it. “This was the day I went into labor with Augustine.”
Ebernote drudges towards the back, going into the kitchen where I have collapsed onto the floor with some of the staff at my side. I’m bleeding from a cut on my hand, but I won’t allow anyone to touch it.
“Poor thing was almost born on Christmas. But he had to be so difficult and he was born the next day,” I sigh heavily as I watch. “My god, what a scene I made.”
Ebernote turns sideways in the door and points behind me. “That is not what you are to see, sweet Sybyll.”
I scowl, but follow his hand to see Hugh rushing back through the door, being chased by Ebernote, the old Ebernote. He is yelling at Hugh, raising a fuss, but his voice quiets as he hears me screaming.
“Sybyll has gone into labor! I have to go! I can’t do anything about work now!” Hugh was never good under a crunch, that’s what he had Ebernote for.
Ebernote clutches Hugh’s shoulders, looking in the direction of my screaming. “How funny that he should be born on a day I hate.”
“Sir?” Hugh sputters.
He turns back and looks at Hugh disdainfully. “Go back to the office! You’re better there than here, no husband needs to see this.” He pushes Hugh towards the door. “Get out! There’s important work to be done, you fool!”
I grumble curses under my breath. “So that’s where he went all day.”
Ebernote watches as he runs away then stands there and listens. Daylight fades to dark and he remains there. Midnight chimes and, for a moment, there is silence. Not until Augustine takes his first breath in this world does he move or react. “Mrs. Coulthurst, it’s a boy!”
Ebernote bows his head and, for a moment, I take it as a sign of emotion. But he raises his head, giving no sign of joy or anguish, just stone. He taps his hat back onto his head and ventures out into midnight with nary a second thought.
“You gave birth to my son,” Ebernote whispers behind me as the foyer turns into a snowy bank, surrounded by dead trees and a trashcan fire.
I stare him down, frigid as the air around me. “I gave birth to my son,” I say quietly. “There is no you in it.”
Ebernote chuckles. “You can’t deny what you know is the truth, Sybyll. Augustine is my son, a single glance will tell you that. Is that why you kept him at arm’s length for so long? Away at school. Away in Pirlipat. You keep him far away so you don’t have to see him and admit what you’ve known since his conception!” he shakes his arm, rattling his chains.
I clap my hands. “Bravo! Very scary.”
Ebernote lunges for me, getting in my face. “I never admitted it,” he snarls. “And it began a weight upon me, a chain.” He tilts his head and inches closer. “It is heavier on you.”
“You planted your seed in a married woman and then did nothing,” I hiss back at him. “You are nothing but heavy chains.”
Ebernote laughs, taking a step back from me. “I know you love him, I do too. But you cannot bear to look at him, let alone be around him when you need him most. Until you admit it, you will never let go of your guilt, you will never hold your son again.”
The flame in the trash can pops and crackles. Inside I see a bedsheet burning to ash. “Because I am going to die, right?” I look back into Ebernote’s hollow eyes. “Soon, right? So I should just rush to him? Make amends?”
The world shifts to a dark room, the office, in fact. It’s cold inside, almost colder than the winter outside it. Rain is pouring down the window and pelting onto the street outside. Ebernote walks around to my desk, picking a note off the top.
“You exchange cards at Christmas, don’t you?” He shows the front of the card in his hand, bright red with golden foil in the shape of a tree. “Is this his or yours?”
“You died,” I murmur as I approach him and take the card. “I forgot to send it.” I open the card to see my signature scribbled out with a small note to my son and grandchildren underneath. “Although I had hoped I had.”
“You’ve never let things hinder you before, Sybyll,” he whispers into my ear. “You’ve always been the type to work through the storm. Why would my death stop you?”
I look out the window of my office to see a carriage going down the street. I then look down, seeing my quill and ink bottle spilled onto the floor, I had walked through it, leaving a trail which stopped short outside Ebernote’s office.
“What did you do when you received word I had passed?”
My lashes flutter and my shoulders feel heavy. “I was-” My throat becomes tight and I have to clutch my hand about my mouth. “I was so angry!” I say through gnashed teeth.
Ebernote breathes and his chains rattle as he walks into his office. He stands there like he used to, looking at his desk then turning to look out the window. He tries to put his arms folded behind his back, but the chains won’t allow it.
“You weren’t joyous?” He asks. “Not even a little cold?”
I unclench my jaw and allow myself a breath. “You had so much work to do that day,” I whisper.
Ebernote smiles. “That’s right, I had the Mulligen account to handle.” He faces me, and his eyes seem less hollow. The office shifts just as I hear a knock on the door. We’re standing back in the bedroom again, and Ebernote is asleep in his bed. I stand at the foot of the bed watching him sleep, but already he looks like a corpse.
The ghost stands beside me, looking over himself. “I still looked handsome in my old age, didn’t I?”
“Hatred can preserve a body like salt,” I grumble. “That’s what my father used to tell me.”
The Ebernote in bed wakes up with a horrified gasp. His eyes shoot open and his mouth hangs open wide. I step away from the bed in fright. He struggles and gasps, clinging to himself. He then tries to stand up, but collapses onto the floor. Instinct kicks in and I rush to his side.
“You can not save him now,” the ghosts tells me. “This has already transpired.”
Ebernote is trying to drag himself to the closet. He manages to reach the door and then he collapses with his hand outstretched.
“I didn't want to see this!” I turn away, clutching my face in my hands.
Ebernote kneels down beside his body which begins to become twisted in chains. It pulls at him, dragging him down through the floorboards and vanishing away so only a skeletal body remains.
“I told myself I had no regrets in life, but it was the greatest of all my lies.” Ebernote stands and opens the closet door to the shoe box on the shelf. “My greatest regret, Sybyll, is that I never got to love you.”
I turn and look at him, my eyes filled with tears, red and swelling. I keep my hand over my mouth as he pulls out the nightgown and then the letter.
“I loved you all my life, but I couldn’t admit it, because then that would mean defeat. It would mean the end of everything I had believed. It would mean there was something inside me just as weak as all other men.” He places the letter in my hand. “I could have had a family, I could have had something attached to me besides these chains. I may have had a chance to be a good man rather than just a man.” He sighs heavily. “I could have had more than one soul at my graveside yesterday.”
“Yesterday,” I whimper.
Ebernote touches my cheek and wipes away the tears. “Admit to yourself the truth. Love your son. Love who he is despite your sins. Admit and let go, you don’t have much time, sweet Sybyll. These chains are not worth holding onto.”
I swallow despite the hardness in my throat. I take deep breaths and collapse onto my knees with sobs. “Why did you leave me?” I yell at him. “You miserable, old fool! You knew exactly what you were doing when you died!”
Ebernote stands there, struggling against his chains which are pulling him.
“When Hugh died!” I scream angrily at him. All the years of holding on, all this time we’ve spent so far apart and yet so close. My hatred, my bitterness, it has all boiled up. His death has only made me overflow. “You offered me money! I wanted you!” I tear at the front of my dress. Everything feels so tight, I can’t breathe. “I thought you would come to me then! I thought you’d love me and our baby! But you just threw money at me like I was a problem! I hated you! I hated you so horribly! I wanted to make your life a living hell by simply existing in it! I wanted to watch you suffer! To die! To choke on your stupid fucking money!”
He nods gently. “I know. Read the letter, Sybyll.”
I go to rip it in half but find I do not have the strength to do it. My hands shake and, at the first sign of tearing, I can no longer bear it. I fall to the ground, weeping, sobbing horribly. My eyes hurt, my sides ache, my lungs feel caught on fire.
“Mama!”
The voice is that of a man, but it is still the sweetest sound to my ears. I raise myself up slightly, seeing him sweep into the room. “Augustine?” I cry.
“Mama! Are you okay?” Augustine is by my side that instant. He picks me up off the ground and I cling to him for fear he might vanish. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You weren’t at home, you weren’t in your office-”
I hug him so tight. “Oh, my baby!” I cry. “What are you doing here?”
He holds me back, cupping the back of my head so tenderly. “I never got your card, I got worried.”
I cry onto his shoulder. “Oh, Augustine,” I sob. “Mr. Thursby died.”
He holds me stronger than before, rubbing his hand up and down my back. “I know,” he says quietly. “His lawyer told me, that’s how I got here.”
I look up into Augustine’s face, his dark eyes and hair, the shape of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw. How beautiful he is! No wonder his wife cannot keep her hands off him. I sob as I look at him, seeing me, seeing Ebernote. Augustine kisses my forehead and helps me up off the floor.
“Let me take you home, Mama. To Pirlipat. Come see your grandkids, spend the holidays with us. It’s been so long.”
I cling to Augustine’s hand. “There is something I must tell you, son-”
“Mama,” he says sternly. “It’s okay.” The look in his eyes speaks of knowing. “What’s that in your hand?”
I look at the letter with the seal broken. “I don’t know.” I sit on the edge of the bed and I pull out the letter from inside. “Ebernote left it to me.”
Augustine stands before me as I read the letter in silence.
“My sweet Sybyll. I have gone over every thought in my mind on how to make this right. It was an accident that killed your husband, but it was by my hand it began. I have made you a widow. I have made your child fatherless. I must pay for my crimes. My terms are simple, and they are easy to accept. I must ask that you marry me and I insist that you accept. We both know that boy deserves it, that you want it. I have loved you from the moment I saw you step off that train, and I have harbored hatred for your husband ever since. He has had the one thing I never will. The one jewel I cannot add to my fortune. Marry me, Sybyll. After all these years, I beg of you to marry me. Let us be together. Let us never share a bed in secret. Come home to me and I will be yours. Yours everlasting, Ebernote Thursby.”
“Mama?” Augustine says softly.
I fold the letter back up and place it inside the envelope. I close my eyes and let the quiet wash over me. My chest feels heavy, but it comes from the inside of me. “I love you with all my heart, Augustine,” I tell him simply. “And I am so sorry if I ever-”
“Don’t,” he says quickly. “Mama, it’s okay. Really. You don’t need to tell me anything. I already know that-”
I look at him scoldingly. “No! Young man, let me finish-” I choke on my words and fight to keep composure. “I know all those years you just wanted to stay at home and I kept insisting on school and-”
“Then come home with me.” He takes my hand tight. “There’s nothing keeping you here anymore! Why stay alone here to rot away when you have family who wants you with them?” He smiles so brightly at me, something Ebernote never had. “Come home. We’d love having you there with us.”
I look around the cold and empty room and I place myself in Augustine’s arms again. “There is still much work to be done. But I can do that anywhere, I suppose.” I feel something heavy in my pocket and I pull out Ebernote’s ring.
“This is yours.” I place the ring upon Augustine’s finger. “Your father would want you to have it.”
Augustine looks at it, seeming bitter and angry for the briefest flash. He then looks at me and he smiles. “Thanks, Mama.”
I pat his hand and sniffle. “Let’s go, baby. Let’s go.”
We leave the house and I sign documents from the lawyer before leaving for Pirlipat with my son. The trip seems surreal and strange, and the farther from the North Pole we get, the warmer I begin to feel inside. I can breathe. My shoulders feel light.
I sell the coal mines and my property in the North Pole. I move everything down to Pirlipat where I buy a residence near Augustine and his family. It is different, but it was a needed change. I think of him from time to time, and I will bring out his letter and read it to myself. I am thankful my son was not a coward like him, and I can be grateful at times that he never sent this letter. But there are days, and there are many of them, where I regret the wedding we never had, the children never brought into the world, or the man he could have been. I cannot think on these things too long, though, there is much ahead of me, and I will not be held back by the things that could have been.
Comments
Jennifer Lynn Bolan
Oh, that's sad!
