The Graveyard Book – Final Goodbyes

It was a windy spring's eve. The flowers that just recently had flourished were desperately holding on to their leaves, and the green trees stood tall and proud and sang as the breeze brushed through them. A deer had greeted itself with a small grass tuft that had stayed hidden in the winter snow. It was not only the deer that greeted something familiar this day, for on top of the hill, near the old graveyard gates stood an old man observing his surroundings. He knew this place very well, for he had lived here once, but that was long ago.
He held onto his flat cap, but one wind blow overthrew him, and his cap gently fell to the ground. As he reached for his cap another wind took the cap with it through the iron bars of the graveyard, and he could do nothing but see it as it landed on the muddy path leading to the tombstones. The man stood up and looked at the gate; it was heavily overgrown with roots and other flora, so much that the wind did not move it more than an inch or two. Old thoughts came back to the man, about when he was young, when he had the freedom of the graveyard. He focused on this thought and tried to pass through the gates, but to no avail.
Further up the road was a wide gap in the fence, it was as if a large tree or similar had fell here, but had later been removed by the inhabitants of the town. The fence, however, had not been touched since. With careful steps, the man then climbed over the opening and into the graveyard.
It looked different from how he had remembered it, more tropical, but that is to be expected when it has not been touched for seventy years. For that was how long it had been; seventy years ago, the man, a boy then, had left the graveyard behind to find his place in the world. That he had, but his restless soul had brought him to many places before he would settle down with a wife, and get children of his own.
He left his thoughts and continued forward to where he had seen his flat cap. There it was, still lying unmoved on the path. As he got closer he thought he felt a touch of a finger on his left shoulder, and he turned around, but no one was there to be seen. Had he been any other man he would have brushed it off as if the wind was playing a mind trick on him. But he was not any man, he was Nobody Owens, the man raised by ghosts. A thought about the children he had played with here when he was little made him think of his own children, oh how they had grown.
First there was Nova, his oldest child. A light of energy she was, at least for Bod. She was the reason he chose to settle down after many years traveling around the world. It had not been his plan at first; however, she had become ill at the age of three to such a degree that he had no other choice than to stay at home and nurture her. As much as he regrets to say it, it was thanks to her illness the life he truly had been searching for all along was in the hands of his family.
Secondly there was Silas, named after his old guardian at the graveyard. The name had come to Bod when he first saw his newborn son's pale skin. It fit him perfectly, and would he meet his guardian once more, he truly would be honored. This little fellow fortunately grew through childhood with any hindrance, but Bod had taught himself a valuable lesson; never to take anything for granted.
The thought brought Bod's cheekbones to a smirk, and he slowly turned around again. To his surprise his cap was gone. His thought had kept him occupied so that he had missed the wind go by and take it with it once more. It was then Bod heard a child's laughter further down the path, and he swore that he saw a silhouette of what looked like a boy running with his cap in hand.

Bod followed silently, just observing and taking in all the thoughts that embraced him. He almost went in to a trance, but was disrupted by a gentle nudge on his right foot. He had stumbled upon a tombstone. He inspected it further by removing all the clutter that had grown over it. On the tombstone, it read Mr. Owens, and right next to it was a tombstone for a Mrs. Owens. It had been long time since he had seen his caretakers; he had in fact been here once before after he left the graveyard. He brought his children here when they were young, just to see if he might get any contact with his former family. It was, however, to no avail, yet he did not regret visiting the place then as it brought back many of his memories and kept them fresh.
"Father? Mother?", Bod called out to them in hope of them appearing to him once more.
"You are not able to communicate with them yet, as you are still very much alive.", said a familiar voice. All this time and that voice was still clear as day and it had not changed a bit. Bod turned his back and was greeted by a tall black clothed figure with pale skin.
"Silas, my old friend, say it is you that I am truly looking at."
"Yes, it is truly I, who else would I be?"
Bod was amused by his guardian's answer. Silas seemed as he was not, but that face of his almost never changed expression.
"I believe this belongs to you, does it not?", Silas held Bod's flat cap in his hand a stretched it forwards.
"It sure does, that's my ol' cap. How did you get it though, I swear I saw a child run further down the path with it.", Bod looked confused, yet glad that he had his cap back where it belonged.
"How were you able to see him? You are alive, it should not be possible, if not…", Silas paused as he understood why it had been so that the ghost child had appeared for Bod.
"How long have you left in this world?"
"Not long, I am afraid. I caught the illness last year, and my doctor says it will not be long now. That is why I came to see all of you again, to say goodbye one last time."
"I doubt that goodbye would be for long, as you will soon see each other again. Tell me, how has your life been?" Silas seemed eager for an answer, but Bod did not have much energy to tell a life's story. Yet he did not want to disappoint his old guardian.
"Long, and worth living. It has surely been an adventure, but now I am tired." Silas was expecting more, but was pleased anyhow.
The winds started to lay down to rest, and as it did noises could be heard coming all over the graveyard. It was just as if a whole mass of people was marching towards the two men. Bod noticed them coming forward from all over, it was not people, however, but ghosts from left to right. They all fizzled about, but it all came to an abrupt stop when a shout echoed.
"My son, my Bod! Have you finally come to visit us, me and your father?"
"I have come to see you once more before I leave to my own graveyard."
"I can see life has been a good one for you Bod, and I would have not thought anything other than that. Me and Mr. Owens are still very proud of you, and we always will be. I do not know if you remember, but that summer you returned to us with your children, we were there all the time. Even though you could not see us, we were there. To see the younglings run about brought me to tears, we truly raised you good Bod."
"I must thank you for all that you have given me, and to the rest of you as well. I am proud to call you all my family."
Time went by quickly, and the moon gave out its glow on the graveyard. It made it look almost from a fairytale, with all the plants and trees about. Bod had said his last goodbyes and had climbed over the broken-down fence, when he heard a whisper flowing through the air.
"I love you son, see you soon."
"I love you too mother, we surely will."
Bod turned around to see the emptiness of the graveyard once more, and he felt nothing but joy. He waved and continued up the road until the graveyard left his sight for the last time.