"How ya doing pap?" Ben questioned as he crouched down in front of the limestone grave. Looking around Ben observed the numerous gravestones lining the grass nearby Smith Island United Methodist Church. Decades of Smith Islanders lay to rest on the ground, recently joined by Richard Willem himself.
Sitting in the silence of early morning, Ben could hear the call of seagulls accompanied by the distant rustle of the Chesapeake. He did not have a lot of time before Smith Islanders would begin leaving their homes to start their work day.
"Well Richard, we meet again. Unfortunately, the circumstances are not ideal this time around. There is so much I wanted to ask you. So much I wanted to learn." Ben paused, becoming overcome with anger and sadness.
"You got yourself involved in a whole bunch of shit. As your son, I assumed the repercussions of your actions and here we are. You're six feet under and I'm… not sure what's in store for me next." Ben looked off into the distance.
"I'm not sure if I should be mad at you but I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I know you did what you had to do to protect me." Ben's voice cracked as he pondered his next sentence.
"I want you to know, I do forgive you. You are my father after all. You made me a Blackshaw. I'm proud of that." A weight appeared to be lifted off of Ben's shoulders. He finally found the closure he longed for.
He changed the subject. "LuAnna and I have been talking about the wedding. A lot of planning goes into getting married, who would've know. If I had the option I would just say 'I do' and call it a day but she deserves the very best."
Ben smiled at his father's gravestone. "I know you'll be there, I just wish in a different form."
Sunlight glided across the bay notifying Ben he needed to cut his conversation short. "Well pap, you thought you finished what you started. That's not the case. Something new is brewing and it's not a cup of Smith Island Beans."
"Do you remember the last words you said to me? 'You're a soldier, Ben. You're my son.'
"I thought long and hard about what you said. I think you were giving me permission to handle this situation in true Blackshaw fashion. Don't you worry pap, I won't stop until you have the opportunity to kick Chalk's ass, wherever you may be."
Ben slowly stretched his legs, standing up to observe the entirety of the cemetery. Peering down at his father's final resting place he placed his right hand on top of the limestone. The sunlight slowly crept across the grass towards Ben.
Respectfully he turned, removing his hand from the grave stone, "It was a pleasure talking to you this morning, Mr. Willem. I promise I will come back as soon as I can. I have business to attend to first." Ben muttered, over his shoulder, as he headed towards the street.