William and I share a look, and he gets out. He then pulls me in for a hug, and for the first time in my life, we embrace.
It feels strange, but I lean in and hold the old man. I close my eyes, and the uncle-like figure pats my back. He smells of strength. Strength, stability, wet suede, and boot polish.
William pulls another silver hip flask from his tweed jacket, and I shake it. Full.
I take it, and as I get in, I pause. As I look up, I find Samantha at my window. She is looking down, with a hand on the wet glass.
I have nothing left, so I climb in and drive.
The rain makesthe grave digging harder, but the last storm has made the ground soft. The movement and the whisky keep me warm, and I dig the hole fast and hard.
Tusk will be next to my sister, Amanda, where he belongs.
As the rain finally stops, I finish the grave. It is not wet inside, and I wrap his body in the white linen from William.
Carefully, I lower Tusk’s body in, and I kneel and speak. Ithank Tusk for being in my life, and I tell him I will find him again. Somewhere. Somehow.
As I stand, I look around. I need to leave something with him. Realizing the old family rifle is suitable, I make sure the safety is on.
Tusk might need it in the new world to protect himself before I find him again. Powerful Egyptians and others took things with them in death, and Tusk will take the weapon.
I place the gun down with him and exhale.
As I fill the grave in, I pause at times to wipe tears away.
Finally, the job is done, and I have no tears left. As I step back to check my completed work, I wipe my hands on my wet trousers.
It is the toughest job I’ve done. Done since burying my family.
Then, William and a few others close to the family had helped.
Today, it was all on me.
I drive past the chateau and onto the stables. I need space, and I don’t want comfort. I want coldness, and I want raw energy. I want to feel.
A ride in the cold is what I need, and maybe the night, alone. Alone in the old cabin around the lake.
The one I slept in after arguments with my father. Or when I was studying media, entertainment, business, and advertising.
I saddle up, then I walk the black stallion from the stables. As I pause before I mount, I try to work out if I’m cursed.
Thunder booms, and I want to fight the universe. To fight it to the death.
I go to mount as a light rain falls, and Samantha runs up. I pause, and I need space. I do not want to talk. Not now. We exchange a look, and Sam is smart enough to tell. To tell I’m a mess and broken.
“Baby, come inside.”
Not saying anything, I vault on. As Sam steps forwards, I spin the stallion, blocking her. “I need distance,” I grunt out.
“Baby, you need a hug.” I shake my head. “Hey, it’s me!” Sam says, trying to gently shake me out of it.
“Look,” I huff, starting to lose it, “stay away from me.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this.”
“What do you mean?” Samantha says, confused.
