It was getting dark now; midnight but a few hours away. Luke climbed into the boat and slumped against the walls of the boat's hull. He dozed off...wondering if Lorelai and Rory were done with their movie night. Finally, the numbing cold got to him and he dozed off completely.
Was that a raccoon? A scritch-scratching sound caught his attention. The garage door, which of course never did close because of the boat, creaked and shook. Luke bolted upright as the boat shook from side to side. What the...? "Dad?"
Luke rubbed his eyes. His father seemed to be standing in the garage entrance, half shrouded in pink and half shrouded in blue. This could not be...why was his father here? He'd been gone for so long...As Luke rubbed his eyes again, his father moved towards him. He began to shake. "Dad?" he whispered, and rubbed his head. He must have bumped it against the side of the boat, or else inhaled too many fumes from the varnish he was using to seal the wood...or maybe those crazy colors Lorelai had painted the garage with were finally warping his brain...
But...it...he...was still there, still coming towards him!
Luke's face involuntarily broke out into a grin. "Dad!" he whispered with more animation.
His father turned to face him, with that manly, yet oh-so-kind and loving face Luke remembered so well.
"Who...who are you?" Luke asked, his voice trembling.
"Ask me who I was," the figure replied.
"Who are you then?" Luke replied, agitated.
"In life, Luke, I was your father."
"Do you...do you remember the boat?" Luke asked, looking up hopefully at him, the look on his face exactly the same as the look he'd had as a ten-year-old seeking his dad's approval.
"Ah, my boat," replied the figure, coming closer and reaching out a gossamer hand, running it along the outside of the boat.
"Do you want--can you come in here with me?" Luke responded, a sense of wonder in his voice.
"That I can, son, that I can." And the figure drifted up as if it was a cloud, up over the edge of the boat, and suddenly it was seated next to Luke.
"I've missed you...Dad..." Luke continued.
"Son, what the hell are you doing with yourself?" the figure purporting to be his father boomed, a scowl now on its face.
"Wha...What do you mean?"
"You're screwin' up your life, son," his father intoned.
"I don't..."
"Son, you're sitting here in a cold garage when over there," his father shrugged in the direction of the house, "is happiness, light and warmth."
"It's my Dark Day..." Luke responded.
"And that honors me how? To know that you have the most wonderful thing a man could want, but are pushing it away?" the figure told him. "You're not living, son."
"But I don't deserve..."
"And what about my little granddaughter?"
Luke looked at the figure in surprise, took off his baseball cap, ran his arm over his forehead, and sighed.
"Of course I know of her," his father replied. "But never mind that; I've come to tell you something."
The figure then stood, tall and proud, in the center of the boat.
"Wait!" Luke whispered. "What do you mean?"
"You are blessed with a love you don't seem to want!" the figure proclaimed. "I thought your mother and I taught you well, we showed you well, but apparently..."
"But I love Lorelai..." Luke countered.
"Yet, you cannot see that she is worthy of your trust and that you are worthy of her love. Therefore, you shall be haunted,'' he resumed, "by three ghosts.''
Inadvertently, Luke guffawed. "Dad, tell me that what you just said isn't true...It's just not possible! There are no such things as ghosts."
"Then what am I?" the figure responded. "Anyhow, time to go. The day is almost over."
"Stay, Dad, please..." Luke pleaded.
"Son, I cannot stay, at least not this way. But know this: that I am with you always. You do not need a Dark Day to remember me by."
"I kept the Williams Hardware sign..." Luke whispered.
"I know, son, I know...but you must listen to me. Do not cling to the past. If you listen to me, you have a chance to be happy."
"Will you come back?"
"What, and haunt you?" the figure laughed. "No. This is the one and only time you will see me. But remember, you do not need my help. You have the best help anyone could hope for, if you would only let her."
The figure repeated: "Remember what I have told you: the choice is clear but it is yours to make. And kiss that granddaughter of mine for me."
With that, the figure floated again up and over the side of the boat, still hued in pink and blue. Luke leaned over the edge of the boat, and found nothing but the oil-stained floor of the garage. He climbed out of the boat, opened the garage door, and saw nothing but the lights of the neighborhood. Turning towards the house, he noticed that the lights were still shining bright on the ground floor of the house. Movie night must still be going on. He turned back to the garage, picked up a rag, and began polishing the boat again.