I stepped off the bus and into the afternoon sunlight grateful to be at the end of my all night road trip. The thirteen hour ride from Denton to Newmark was almost unbearable. I watched the other passengers receive greetings by awaiting friends and family but kept walking. There wouldn't be anyone waiting for me. I'd set fire to every bridge leading to what remaining family I had except for two; my sweet cousin Amy whose special needs kept her a perpetual child, and my grandfather. This whole trip was for him. I'd use the two and half mile walk to the house to work the kinks out of my stiff body.
How I got the news is still a mystery. A friend of a friend thought I might be somewhere in Denton. I was nursing a raging hangover when my cell phone rang.
“You're grandad's dead, man,” my fair weather friend Mitch said. “You're supposed to go to the funeral and do something with his ashes.”
I walked the back roads north to the family house on Arrow Lake. Every glimpse of lake water through the trees reminded me of the old man who taught me to skip rocks, fish and sail. The only other person I thought of was a girl I barely knew. A slender angel with a warm and gentle beauty. She was a grade ahead of me in high school. The only words I remember exchanging were after I hit my head on the spectator rails near the pool.
“That must have hurt. Are you okay?”
I looked up to see a pair of caring brown eyes surrounded by shimmering dark hair. Her smile pushed away the throbbing pain above my right eye.
“I'm okay,” I said through an embarrassed grin.
It was nothing; a throw away moment. But she's remained indelibly etched in my heart ever since.
My older brothers and their wives were on the porch when I arrived.
“The Wanderer returns,” Richard the eldest said with a smirk. “Found yourself yet?”
I didn't have a clever comeback, and didn't want to work for one. Amy greeted me affectionately at the top of the steps and guided me to the kitchen where coffee could be found.
Allan, my next oldest brother, pushed a small envelope toward me at the table.
“Here's Grand's last request, John,” he said puffing on a cigarette. “Don't screw it up.”
He left me alone to read the handwritten card.
John, please take our boat out beyond the west point. Scatter my ashes where we always found the big ones. Do that for me will you John?
Everyone appeared eager to have me finish my task and be on my way. After a hot shower I pushed Winds of Change, a small red and white sailboat, away from the weather beaten dock toward wide open waters. It wasn't long before I was at the spot where the sunlight fell onto the water and broke into a thousand sparking diamonds. They marked the spot where my grandfather wanted to be.
My eyes filled with tears as I reached for the brass urn and made my way to the bow. I looked out to the calm, familiar water and the surrounding hills. With a heavy sigh, I said my last words and opened the container letting the breeze carry his ashes out to rest upon the dark water.
Goodby Grandpa.
~~~~~~~~
I came with no plans beyond fulfilling this singular request and now it was done. My temporary purpose in life was over and I would soon resume my wandering. A lost man in no hurry to leave the solitude of the lake where the waves and I were friends. With them I felt no shame or family judgment. They wouldn't be hinting for me to move along. Leaning back into the vinyl seat cushions, I closed my eyes and listened to the small waves lap against the side of the sailboat.
The rain woke me out of sleep. I'd forgotten how quickly the weather can turn foul sending menacing winds down the steep hills to trouble the lake. Many seasoned sailors had been lured out by calm waters only to be caught in the tenacious grip of a sudden storm. Some never returned home.
The sail whipped wildly in the fierce wind leaning the boat over on it's starboard side before I could recover my balance. In an instant I was thrown into the boiling water. The orange life jacket that Amy begged me to wear from the dock landed just out of reach. I swam hard to grasp a rope that dangled off the stern.
The waves conspired successfully with my heavy clothes to keep me from climbing back into the boat. Then I heard a terrible ripping sound. The old sail had torn in two and flailed helplessly in the wind. At least it shouldn't capsize now.
The high winds and stinging rain continued on incessantly till the steel gray sky gave way to charcoal black night. I couldn't hold on for much longer.
“I want to live,” I cried. “I'm sorry for everything Grandpa. Please God! Help me!”
The wind answered back with a cruel howl before the wet darkness took over.
~~~~~~~~
I don't remember the end of the storm. I just knew it was peaceful now. The only sound I could hear were boots crunching toward me.
“Hey there. Are you okay?”
I lifted my head to see through bewildered eyes that I was on the boat only a few feet from shore.
I coughed before responding, “I think so.”
The young woman stepped into the water to help me bring the boat to shore.
“We seem to meet after you've hurt yourself in someway,” she said with a faint smile. “Can you walk? I'd like to get you back and let the others know.”
“Let who know what?” I asked.
She took my arm.
“Let your family know that I found you, John.”
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