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Nov. 7th, 2014 11:11 pmShe'd heard a rumour... that the dead came here to talk at Halloween.
Of course it would have sounded ridiculous, anywhere else. And... well, if she expected to see him she would have to acknowledge that Bill... is never coming home.
The first night she stayed up, she told herself that perhaps, due to time zones, perhaps it wasn't truly Halloween here yet. The endless hours, wondering if she was in the right place, wondering whether she was meant to be asleep for it to work, or...
The second night was no better. Hour after hour of waiting, with coffee, trying to stay awake. Eventually she put on a film, but kept looking around, for any sign.
The third night she doesn't know how to feel. What does it mean, not seeing Bill? Does it make her a terrible person for wanting to see him, because that would mean he was dead? Is he still out somewhere in her world, alive?
"Silly old bat." she murmurs, just before dawn. "What must you think, huh, me sittin' up fer three days waitin', like a schoolgirl? Hopelessly devoted.
"I've always been the gobby one anyhow. You've always been the listener. I guess I just hoped fer... fer you to hold my hand one more time."
Beat.
"Could use you back home, I tell yer. I went to see John in jail the other day. He coulda used yer guidance, I admit. Ernest's doin' well though, we finished the boat and I took him fishin'. He caught such a big'un, I thought we was gonna capsize. He threw it back, big softie, just like you. Youda liked Ernest. Wallace has got himself a fine job now he's got all those fancy degrees - gonna be a professor in a college, who'd have thought it! And a whole bunch of the boys are comin' over ter help me with the little storage problem..."
Her recitation of news dies away as she becomes absorbed in thought.
"I love you, big guy. Come back soon." she says eventually, putting the photo back on the table and walking to the window to watch the sunrise.
Of course it would have sounded ridiculous, anywhere else. And... well, if she expected to see him she would have to acknowledge that Bill... is never coming home.
The first night she stayed up, she told herself that perhaps, due to time zones, perhaps it wasn't truly Halloween here yet. The endless hours, wondering if she was in the right place, wondering whether she was meant to be asleep for it to work, or...
The second night was no better. Hour after hour of waiting, with coffee, trying to stay awake. Eventually she put on a film, but kept looking around, for any sign.
The third night she doesn't know how to feel. What does it mean, not seeing Bill? Does it make her a terrible person for wanting to see him, because that would mean he was dead? Is he still out somewhere in her world, alive?
"Silly old bat." she murmurs, just before dawn. "What must you think, huh, me sittin' up fer three days waitin', like a schoolgirl? Hopelessly devoted.
"I've always been the gobby one anyhow. You've always been the listener. I guess I just hoped fer... fer you to hold my hand one more time."
Beat.
"Could use you back home, I tell yer. I went to see John in jail the other day. He coulda used yer guidance, I admit. Ernest's doin' well though, we finished the boat and I took him fishin'. He caught such a big'un, I thought we was gonna capsize. He threw it back, big softie, just like you. Youda liked Ernest. Wallace has got himself a fine job now he's got all those fancy degrees - gonna be a professor in a college, who'd have thought it! And a whole bunch of the boys are comin' over ter help me with the little storage problem..."
Her recitation of news dies away as she becomes absorbed in thought.
"I love you, big guy. Come back soon." she says eventually, putting the photo back on the table and walking to the window to watch the sunrise.
