Raymond walked along the building toward the main door until Thomas coughed, as if urging him to stop. He looked at his son in confusion for a moment, then realized what he wanted.
“Of course! Why do things the hard way?”
He came back and walked through the wall as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Thomas waited impatiently. A few moments later, his father appeared at the window.
“Nice night, huh?” he said dreamily, looking up at the sky.
“Could you, I don’t know, maybe try to concentrate while I’m risking my life for you?”
“I’m trying to lighten the mood. You’re so grumpy! Anyway, I’m no expert, but I inspected everything carefully and I didn’t find an alarm. No contact monitors on the windows or doors, and no motion detectors.”
“You seem to know a lot about the subject.”
“I had an alarm installed at your mother’s place after I left. Toward the end of our marriage, I wasn’t good for much, but I did manage to make her feel safe. The technician who installed it explained everything we might need to know and more. So, are you going to break the window or not?”
After one throw of a stone, the sound of shattered glass, the opening of a window, and a single graceful leap, Thomas finally landed in the Dignity Memorial office.
“Is it in this cabinet?” he asked, pointing toward a corner near the door.
“Yes, I’m crammed between a pile of bills and a mountain of brochures. And they dare call themselves ‘Dignity Memorial’!”
Thomas waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark, then got to work. He grabbed a solid-silver letter opener off the desk and pried open the lock. The door swung open, almost falling off its hinges.
“That wasn’t exactly discreet. The manager will know precisely what happened when he comes in tomorrow morning.”
“I think the broken window will provide him with his first clue,” Thomas replied coolly.
He found the urn on one of the shelves and breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re a strange one. You seem happier to see my ashes than you were to see me when I appeared in the office at your mom’s place.”
“Make jokes all you want, but I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t abandon you here.”
“It was a poor joke. People make those sometimes when they can’t find the words to say what they really feel.”
Thomas picked up the rock off the rug.
“Should we kill two birds with one stone?” he asked thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ve already taken the risk. So, why not go find Camille’s urn and complete the mission?”
Raymond floated over to the window and looked out toward the mausoleum.
“Because she’s not here anymore.” He sighed. “I could feel it as soon as we arrived. That’s why I’ve been a little on edge. I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t know. Her husband must have suspected something. You look so much like me; maybe that got him thinking. That stubborn man has beaten me at every turn. He separated Camille and me once, and now he’s kidnapped her. He may have even scattered her ashes already. In any case, there’s nothing we can do. Let’s go. Tomorrow, you can take me to the beach, and we’ll say goodbye one last time. I don’t want to go back to Paris. I’d rather stay here, with the ocean air, where Camille lived. You understand that, don’t you?”
“And what about me? Where will I go to pay my respects when I need to talk to you? Who will I ask advice from when you’re gone?”
“I’ve been gone for five years, Thomas. You’ve done quite well without me. We’ll find each other in your music. One day, you’ll play for a woman, and you’ll turn to her for advice. And then you’ll play for your children. That’s life—I have to go so you can have your turn.”
Raymond stepped away from the window to hug his son tightly, their arms intersecting slightly.
“Go on, dry your eyes, son. Let’s not waste the hours we have left together. We’ve had a good time, time we wouldn’t have dared to hope we’d get. I traveled the world from conference to conference in my life,” he said. “But the best journey I ever took was being your father.”
16
