I made it to La Push in record time. Rosalie was probably going to have to completely rebuild my car. The whining and grunting of the engine the whole way here told me that I probably wouldn't even be able to drive it back. I came to a screeching halt in front of the Black house.
I was trying to keep it together. Trying to keep my breathing steady and not get upset. I tried to move as humanly as I could – being that normal people lived around here – and ran into the house. I came to a stop in the living room and found Sam, Leah and Quil sitting on the couch. Sam and Quil had the exact same posture: feet spread, head in hands. Leah had her legs crossed and was bouncing one incessantly as she stared into the distance.
"Where is he?" I asked. Why did Carlisle not bring me? I couldn't possibly understand. I knew he couldn't bring my to the hospital or on house calls because my healing people with my touch would be considered strange. But this was Billy Black. He knew about us. Carlisle had walked right past me as he left and I felt a surge of anger accompany my sadness.
Leah looked up at me like she didn't notice me come in, "In there," she signaled a door on the right. Her tone was a little too somber for me. I didn't like it one bit. I walked - more slowly and calmly this time – to the door.
I cracked the door just enough to slip my tiny frame through. I found Carlisle with a small chair pulled up to the twin bed Billy was lying in. He didn't look at me.
"Carlisle…" I spoke quietly.
"He's gone Bree," he said still without looking at me.
"What do you mean," I sank to the floor as my back dragged down the closed door.
"He's in a better place now," he said calmly as he finally shifted towards me.
"Carlisle," I cried, "Why… why didn't you grab me on the way out? You walked right past me. I could've… I could've helped, at least."
He just shook his head, "When I got the call from Quil they said they could find no heartbeat. He never woke up this morning. There wasn't a lot anyone could've done."
"But…" I began. I didn't even know what I wanted to say. I just knew I needed to argue. I knew I needed to say something because if I was here I could've helped. It might not have happened. Things could've ended differently.
Carlisle interrupted what he knew would be my incoherent babble, "Nothing can wake the dead Bree. Right now we should be more worried about the living."
I held my head in my hands as the full impact of that statement crashed around me. Billy Black was gone. He was so close that if I moved away from the wall, I'd be able to touch him. But there was no one there. No one would feel it. There would be no response. Because Billy was there as far as we could see, but we knew better. Billy was now just a vestige of a generation past. No amount of medicine, hospitalization or my attempts at healing could change that. Before us was nothing but the empty vessel of what was Billy.
Moments later a dull knock jarred me out of my wallowing. I stood up and stepped out of the room. I was greeted by a stony faced Sam. "Bree, I need to see if you can help us."
I nodded. I figured there wasn't a heck of a lot I could for any of them at this point but I just nodded.
"It's Jake," he told me blankly, "he's holed up in the garage out back. He hasn't let anyone near him. Whenever we get within range he heaves spare parts at us. We want to make sure he's okay."
"I'll try Sam," I said crossing my arms. I walked methodically towards the garage and as I rounded the corner I hoped Jacob would recognize my lighter footsteps over his brothers and not throw anything at me. Then again, he could assume it was Leah and still chuck something at me. I was in front of the garage and the door was only half up. I saw a series of dents created from the other side and the parts and tools Sam had spoken about littered on the dirt in front of the door.
No projectiles were coming my way. I took a deep breath and braced myself. I needed to be strong now. I couldn't go in there upset. I jumped a bit and shook my arms like I was bracing for some kind of boxing match and made my way carefully under the door. I stood stock still as I came in, preparing for the potential battery but was met with silence.
I took a relieved breath. I perked my eyes up and looked around for Jake. It looked much the same as when I was last here. The shelves on the left were full of larger parts and bits of metal machinery. The far wall was all tools and the right held a door. There was room enough in here for two cars and there was the old VW Rabbit on the left. That's where I saw Jake's shadow; he was sitting inside the car.
I came up on the passenger's side and clicked the door open. I slid in next to him and gently closed the door behind me. He didn't move, just continued to stare straight ahead. I could see a single tear track from the corner of his eye as it traced the contour of his cheek.
I wanted so much to take that away. I wanted to be able to heal the mind. To take this all away with a touch of my hands. I could read all his sadness in the tension of his face and it killed me inside to know that there was absolutely nothing I could do. All I wanted was to take his hand and transport us away from all of this. There were so many things I wanted but could not do.
Instead I simply slid to the far side of the bucket seat and placed my feet on the console and took his hand. He showed some signs of life and gently squeezed my hand back. I laid the side of my face against the headrest and watched his stony face as my insides were slowly torn to shreds.
And we remained like that for a while.
After an hour of just sitting with Jake's hand in mine he finally spoke. "When my mom died my dad told me that it wasn't extinction. He said it was like moving to another town. Your soul simply migrates to another place."
I nodded, "Like the next great adventure?"
"Yeah," he said flatly, "Except they don't tell you about all the people that soul leaves behind when it moves. It leaves a lot of friends when it leaves that dusty old town."
"It takes courage to live, Jake," I told him, "Anyone can die." He took his hand from mine before taking me by the hips and pulling me on his lap.
I leaned against the door and listened to him recount stories. Some were big moments. He vaguely remembered his first day of kindergarten and he even smiled a little when he told me the story of how Billy tried to have The Talk with him. The memory of his dad getting sick – the illness that left him wheelchair bound – was fresh in his mind. He told me he never thought he'd die; he could never think of him in that context.
Some stories didn't appear to have much rhyme or reason. He told me about driving home with his dad one day and all he could remember was his dad smiling the whole way. He recalled the answer to most of his sisters' outlandish teenage requests was "No way, Jose."
I had never missed tears as much as I did now. The thing about not being able to cry is that you have to find some other way to let your emotion out. Crying is so cathartic, most people never realize it. But this deep indescribably sadness at losing a wise friend and watching another suffer just consumed me. Like a disease it crept through me, multiplying and spreading and there was no way I could get it out anymore.
"What's it like to die?" he mused.
I shook my head as I traced the veins in his hand. "I'm not a good gauge for that. My death was one in a billion," I told him. "It's different. I never came out on the other side."
"I don't know what I'm going to do," he said with a furrowed brow.
"The same thing we all do Jake. We mourn, we remember and we keep going. You'll get older and wiser. You'll make new friends and probably get into some fights. Your pack will keep evolving and life will go on."
"I don't think so," he shook his head.
"What makes you say that?" I asked lightly.
"I don't know. I just… it's strange not having him here," he finally relaxed his tense posture and leaned back. He angled himself towards me. "What do we do?"
"That's normal," I said wiping that single tear trail from his eye. "We can do anything you want Jake."
"I don't think I can stay here," he muttered.
"Understandable," I nodded. "We have all the time in the world. We can do whatever you want. I'll be right beside you."
Several hours later I got Jacob to venture out of the garage. Carlisle had Billy's body taken care of and it was being prepped for the funeral at the end of the week. His house was now empty. I don't know where Leah, Sam and Quil went.
I spent the proceeding days at Jake's house. I didn't feel right leaving him alone and I had no idea where his sister Rachel was. I helped him clean in preparation for the small party of people the house would soon be seeing.
He would help but there were moments when I would find him paused in time. He would be in the middle of sweeping the floor and just look at one particular spot for several minutes. Or he might be cleaning the dishes and rinse the same plate for five minutes. I learned not to say anything but just take it as it came. I'd walk by and the motion would remind him of the broom in his hands or I'd take the dish from him and start to dry it.
Flowers started arriving the next day. I would put them in various spots in the house and tell Jake where they came from: Sue Clearwater, Charlie Swan, Emily, Old Quil, Bella, the Cullens. I'd called Carlisle that first night when Jacob fell asleep on the couch – the boy refused to go to bed. I told him to keep Bella at the house for another day at least. I knew she'd want to see Jake but I could tell he wasn't ready. For anybody. I told Sam the same thing when he came by to check in.
"He's pretty far gone," I said as I sat on the front steps with him. "Can we give him another day before we thrust him into all the mourners?"
"Sure," he agreed. "Leah's taken charge of the pack for now anyways."
"That's good," I replied, "After the funeral… I don't know what his plan is. I don't think he wants to stay around here though."
Sam nodded steadily, "Will you be gone long?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly, "I think he just wants to forget. So we'll be gone long enough for him to realize that remembering is more important. Not forever, no. We'll be back."
So Jacob had his one last day as alone as he could get. He was better. He said a few things and his moments of daze were few. As the sun set, I was glad for this slight change because tomorrow Jacob would have to talk with everyone else. He'd have to be human for a little while; put on a face and greet the mourners.
The packs were the first to come by. I think it was probably best because they were the least awkward around him. Emily, Kim and Rachel too. I had been wondering where Rachel was. I assumed she was with Paul. When they arrived I let them do their own thing. Rachel sat with Jacob and hugged him for the longest time. She was the big sister but so much smaller.
I didn't want to intrude so I cooked. I made them all food. I don't know how long they were there but the setting around them eventually got dark. None wanted to leave and they all fell asleep at arbitrary points. One would doze on the couch for a few hours and suddenly wake back up then another and another.
They never left. I didn't care.
The next day more people came by. Friends and neighbors from La Push and Charlie too. I got to meet Sue Clearwater – Leah and Seth's mom – but I just introduced myself as a friend of Jacob's and tried to play good host. Jacob wasn't catatonic anymore but he was still not very adept at all this. I couldn't really blame him; where would you learn these types of skills? It was hard enough for me and I wasn't even dealing with the same degree of grief – by any stretch of the imagination.
Overall he did a good job. He shook hands, hugged people; all the right stuff. But I could tell it was eating him up to have people reminiscing. I offered them all dinner but only the pack stayed. As I was cooking, Carlisle called to tell me that no one from the family would be by until tomorrow before the funeral. Even Bella. They wanted to give Jake and Rachel some breathing room. I agreed and thanked him before hanging up and returning to my meatloaf.
Early the next morning the pack left to get ready, leaving Jake, Rachel and I alone for an hour or two. Rachel spent the majority of the time in her room and I had to sit in the abyss of Jacob's closet and dig out his suit. While he kept telling me he wasn't going. He was just sort of mumbling; I didn't take him seriously as I got lost in his closet.
His suit was pre-transformation and I had one hour and a half stocked sewing box to make it fit. He must've gotten it when he was still pretty tall because the pants didn't need much lengthening but the shoulders needed some drastic alteration or people were going to have Tommy Boy flashbacks at the funeral. There was just enough extra fabric for it to work. He stood there with it on while I circled around him.
"Okay, I said with pins in my mouth, "you just need to… not raise your hands up. Any higher than this," I explained with a demonstration. He actually laughed a little – which was not my intention but whatever worked.
"All right."
I called Alice and asked her to bring me by a dress and some heels, since I wasn't really going home before this.
"Well what do you want me to bring?" Alice wondered incredulously. Ever the fashionista.
"I don't care, Alice. Whatever you want, just bear in mind where I'm going," I told her. This was not a thigh high boots occasion.
She eventually brought me a simple black dress, a little bolero jacket, black tights and I took the Jimmy Choos over the Manolos. I spent the last half hour tying my hair back into a reasonable knot and trying to convince Jacob that black socks were not optional.
The funeral was a quiet occasion. Nothing fancy. Just a small group at the La Push cemetery. It was a nice place. Flat and grassy, it peaked over the edge of one of their many cliff faces. It was cool and breezy on this spring day. There were about two dozen people total – including the Cullens and some members of each pack – gathered around the freshly dug grave.
Jacob stood between me and Rachel. Rebecca – whose flight had landed that morning - stood beside her sister too. I hoped they didn't feel like I was stepping on their toes in regards to their brother, but he hadn't let go of my hand all day.
The breeze came from the forest behind us and little dandelion wisps were caught in the air. Jacob's grip tightened around mine as Billy's casket was lowered into the Earth. I wrapped my other arm around his. I closed my eyes and for a moment all I could hear were the waves crashing against rocks hundreds of feet below. All I could feel was Jake's hand in mine. All I could smell was the forest as the wind blew it out to sea. A lot was going out with that tide. The pine smell of the woods, days of simplicity, the life of Billy Black.
It was the end of an age. Standing there holding Jacob's hand at his father's funeral just made me realize that we were now adults. I'd never really had parents as a human but both of Jake's were gone. This was the final sign – if there ever was one – of the end of childhood. No longer were there grown ups for us to go to for advice or guidance. We were those adults now. Forming pillars of wisdom for those quickly coming after us. We were the ones that had to be strong now, because we were the surviving generation.
We stood on the rocky cliff staring into the setting sun after the guests had left. We stood on the brink of a whole new life. A life of self-reliance, and responsibility that we weren't necessarily ready for. Our forebears were in the twilight of their lives and the reins were being handed to us.
We weren't ready for that. And like all good kids we were going to run away from our troubles. Jake and I would leave. For how long and to where no one knew. We would go to Death Valley and enjoy the warmth and sun we weren't accustomed to. And I could show Jake what I really looked like. We would walk the banks of the mighty Mississippi. We would stand at the top of the fjords of Norway shouting until our voices echoed back at us. We could run full out across the Russian steppes until they shot up into the icy Siberian rivers or our legs gave out. We would lie on our backs in the Canadian Yukon and watch the Northern Lights dance color across the sky. We would see the Incan ruins and stand on top of the world in the heart of the Andes Mountains. Our legs could take us the entire length of the Great Wall of China or we could sit and watch the great migrations on the Serengeti.
We'd be back someday, but not for a while. Not until Jake learned that remembering was more important than forgetting. Not until we were both ready to take our rightful places in the world. Until then we'd slip through it, skipping town before reality was able to catch up with us. And we'd have each other to remind us that it wasn't just a dream; that we'd follow each other to the ends of the Earth.
Someday, it would all be okay. But not today.
