It’s—
I freeze. My fingers around Trent’s feel like they’re on fire.
It’s not . . . it can’t be . . .
Grandpa. Cane in one hand, the shoebox gripped in the other.
I inhale sharply.
Trent doesn’t stir. His breathing stays even, deep in sleep.
I carefully, slowly unlace our fingers, like maybe, maybe Grandpa hasn’t noticed.
But his gaze sinks to our hands and holds.
The cane presses deeper into the grass, like he’s doubled his weight onto it. I throw myself upright, reaching to steady him, but... he’s not struggling.
He lifts the hand holding the shoebox to his lips.Shhh.
His gaze flicks to Trent, then back to me. His finger curls:come.
My heart thunders. What kind of reaction is that? Why doesn’t he speak, shout, demand an explanation?
Why is he so calm?
A knot in my stomach tightens as I follow him across the paddock to the base of the hill.
“Grandpa . . .”
He points to the lone tree at the top. “Up there.”
Each step up the hill, my legs feel heavier, and the wind hits in waves. He’s not saying anything. He’s not fuming under the surface. His gait is slow, but even. His eyes... they’re fixed in the distance and his lips are pressed in a sad sort of grimace.
Halfway, he passes me the shoebox.
I take it, and it feels like a shiver in my hand.
There’s something about this box.
I first saw Grandpa with it the day we cleaned the relics out of his room. He’d slunk off into the garden; he’d been morose all day after.
It’s not heavy in my hand, and if I didn’t hear a slight shift of material inside, it might be empty.
My nape prickles.
The empty-weight of this box is more unnerving.
I hold it tighter, like that might give it more weight, more meaning.
I’ve seen Grandpa with this box multiple times over the last months. Always trucking it around, from his room to the garden and back again.
He hadn’t been willing to throw this old box away. He wasn’t ready yet.
He even brought it all the way to the farm.
It had been strange, hadn’t it, that they so sharply stopped me from using it as a coffin. Grandpa... Grandpa and Trent.
My heart thumps against the box so hard, I can feel it vibrate.
