Shipping week Day 5 - Prompt: Sail
I had no idea what to do with this one and had very little time to write, so this is pretty much a hail mary entry.
She'll never forget how windy it was.
Everyone at the park held on to their hats. Copper-colored leaves rode the violent currents of air. They buffeted her stinging face, aided in their attack by the tendrils of hair that broke free from her no-frills black tie. Her scarf flapped and the naked branches dotting the lawns looked like bony hands waving hello.
She was here to say goodbye.
[Are you sure this is where you want to do it?]
"Yes." Shana put her hand over the box. "It's where we said goodbye to mom." She lifted the lid, and the wind, brutal and seething, carried the gray dust up and away, into the clear reaches of the sky. When the last flecks disappeared into the atmosphere, she said, "I spent years thinking he was dead. Now he really is."
[Does it feel different the second time around?]
Shana tucked a loose hair behind her ear. Back then she had been younger, rasher. The news of her father's death sparked an anger that had brimmed over into every aspect of her life. "This time I know how he died." A short battle with cancer, and she had been by his side when he breathed his last. "I have closure."
[The truth may hurt for a time, but the unknown hurts forever.]
"Is that some kind of ancient Japanese proverb?"
[I read it on a coffee mug.]
She smiled at him. He was dressed casually for the event. No whiff of tactical gear, and his weapons were safely stowed out of sight. But he was uncomfortable with exposure and in true form was covered nearly as much as he always was. Only a little flash of scarred face could be seen under all the layers.
Sometimes, when they were alone like this, he would hold her hand, and she risked it now. When he didn't pull away, she said, "What should I do with your body when you die?"
He shrugged. [Whatever you want.]
"Come on. You've got to have some preference."
[Do you?]
She considered. But not so much the mortuary options as the man standing beside her. Much to her aggravation he never talked about himself or his history. But she was acquainted enough with loneliness and grief to sense a kindred spirit, one who understood the pain of a family once had, then lost.
The joy of discovering a new one, in the unlikeliest of places.
"You and me to the end. That's my preference."
[Then we go out together?]
"Why not? Let someone else decide where to spread our ashes." She waved to the wind. "Goodbye, dad. See you again one day."
Sailing to the clouds for their next big adventure didn't seem like a bad idea at all.
