28
VIGINTI OCTO
Finn
It’sTime.
The voices are insistent, more so than usual, more so than ever.
It’sTimeIt’sTimeIt’sTime.
Time for what?
I buzz along the road from the cemetery, up the mountain to my home, where I linger in the trees and watch my sister as she says goodbye to Dare and waits for me. I know she’s waiting for me, because she always does.
And unless I do something, that’s what she’ll always do.
DoItDoItDoIt.
I suddenly know what to do, and I head along the path for the pier. It doesn’t matter that she wouldn’t go to the cemetery with me, because I know she would’ve tried if I’d forced the issue. She would’ve tried and she would’ve been miserable because she’s not ready. I can’t force her to be ready. It has to happen in order.
It has to happen in order.
There’s an order.
It
Has
To
Happen
In
Order.
Sail away and don’t come back, a voice hisses. MakeHerSeeTheOrder.
Don’t, another one argues. ThisIsHerFaultHerFaultHerFault.
The voices argue and I let them, as I continue walking in the sea breeze toward the boat. I climb inside and lift the anchor.