Young Skywalker came to see me. I had begun to despair that I would ever see it happen, but it did. Just as Ben said it would. I'm glad it's happened. I'm ready for the end of the tale. I'm eager to let go of this burden. Skywalker's visits will free me. This I know. Not because Ben told me. It's because he very carefully didn't.
Young Skywalker told me that the Jedi are returning to the galaxy. Ben told me that when that happens, it will be okay to share the story. To tell what I know. It will be okay then to share his life. To talk of the time when the galaxy lost Obi Wan Kenobi.
I see him staring at me intently as I settle my cup on the table in front of me.
"Would you like more tea?"
"No thank you." His answer is polite. Short.
"You're anxious. I know." I tell him. He looks at me in surprise. "I can sense it."
"You know the force?"
"Jedi aren't the only ones with knowledge of the Force." My voice shakes only a little as I look at him with a wise stare.
He chuckles. I've amused him. It squeezes my heart. "Yes ma'am." His look gets somber in a heartbeat as he stares into my eyes and asks, "Will you share it with me?"
My heart stammers. I must calm my breathing. "There is much to tell. It won't be finished today."
"Then we'll deal with that when it comes."
I can't stop the smile that crosses my lips. So young. So innocent. So like him.
It all began at the cusp of the moment when the Jedi would disappear. In the course of one day, the entire galaxy would lose its bright and shining stars. It's very future shattered in a cloud of hatred. It was an open wound in the soul of the universe. No one came out of it unscathed. Myself included. Some carried the burden more than others. Ben was one of these.
On Tatooine, life was peaceful. Not necessarily pleasant. Just peaceful. No war. No battles. The happenings of the Universe had little to do with the everyday grind on the planet. No matter who ruled Tatooine, life remained as hard and unforgiving as it always had been and always would be. The people in power cared little and gave even less to this small, hot planet. Too late would they discover the impact of our hard ball of dust on the events of the Galaxy.
Until that day, the crushing events of the wars beyond our atmosphere were treated as gossip. News of just the slightest degree. Traders talked. Residents listened. Then they worked. Nothing changed. Until the day the Jedi died. After that, nothing was the same.
"Anakin? Was Anakin Skywalker killed?" The whispers chased around the perimeter of our world, racing across the dusty plains. Everyone wondered what had become of Ani. Superhero of the Galaxy. Savior of the weak. "Do you think he got away?" It became the fodder of dinner tables, drinks at the bar, workshops, farms. Everyone asked the question. The very idea of our Anakin being injured or killed brought Tatooine to life in a way that no one had ever seen. He had, after all, conquered everything. The only human to ever race pods, let alone win! How could he be dead?
The new whispers began as soon as the stranger first appeared. Maybe Anakin had come back here to watch over his child. What father wouldn't in these difficult times? Maybe he would rise up again to save the Galaxy from this Emperor and his partner, Vader. Maybe Anakin would…maybe not. What if the stranger wasn't even Anakin? What if it was someone who wanted to do harm to the child? Neighbors and friends respected the privacy of the Lars family. They wouldn't aid anyone who wanted to invade that privacy. Without a word muttered aloud, the community drew in around the family. Protecting them in silent hope.
Years passed. No harm was done. No more strangers came. No one inquired about the baby. People, as they are wont to do, became complacent. As war raged through the galaxy, peace came across Tatooine. The sun shone with just a little less harshness. The wind blew a breath cooler. Things felt more settled and calm. And a planet watched as a baby grew up and a man grew old.
Skywalker coughs politely and looks at me, waiting for more. I can't help poking a bit of fun at his eagerness. "Yes?"
He looks startled at the question. He pauses for a moment and closes his eyes, fingers toying with the edge of the now empty tea cup.
"There's more." His words aren't a question. He knows as well as I do.
"Yes. There's more. I would imagine that's the part of the story you know." I chuckle again at the smile on his face. His anxious demeanor is all but hidden to the world. Few would notice the effort at calming heartbeat and breath. Few would see more in that smile than patience. I saw it though. He was eager for the rest.
"What would you like to know?"
"I'd like to know…" I saw the questions flow into his mind and wrap around his thoughts. Hundreds of them. Thousands. So many questions. So much passion. So little time. His thoughts finally come to a slow grinding halt and he looks at me with that calm smile. "Let's talk about you. And Ben."
And so it begins.