CHAPTER 1 GONE

I was riding my bike through the streets. I ride down Wilshire Blvd., passing Beverly Hills Best Realty. I hang a left onto Malcolm Ave. and turn right onto Ashton Ave. I arrived at my destination. I check my watch. 5:34.

I meet Mr. Smith, the owner of the property. We shake hands.

"Hello, Jake, you're early," he says in his rough aged voice.

"Hello, Mr. Smith, sorry. Circumstances changed," I say in return.

"No problem. You're looking well."

"Yes," I say. "If only we were meeting under better circumstances."

"If only. This ordeal you're going through has really put you and your family through a lot. But, even though this won't..." he hesitated. "Pan out, your uncle would be proud." I couldn't help but smile at the memory of my Uncle Dave, who had died in a criminal's botched robbery attempt about 3 years ago. Even though I'm only 16, I'm the caretaker and guardian of his children. All 6 of them.

We walk around the property, examining the property as we go. I noticed a small patch of grass about 10 feet wide and seven feet long. Next to it was a stone slab with two familiar names. Dave Seville.

"What about this space?" I inquired.

"That one's for sale."

We worked the particulars and I hopped on my bike to go to my destination. As I left, I saw the sign, Beverly Hills Cemetery. I rode back to Beverly Hills Municipal Hospital. I went up to his room. He was asleep. The others were there, asleep. His girlfriend was awake, however, and approached me.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

"Good," I said, "the plot should be big enough for the seven of us. And it's near Dave. How's he doing?" I asked, motioning to the small chipmunk lying down in his bed.

"He's gotten worse. The doctors said he'll be gone by morning."

I knew immediately that this was the end. His end.

"How are you doing? I know you love him, a lot."

"I'll be sad, but he won't be in pain."

"You've been a great help to me this whole time. He'd be proud of you. Get some rest."

Later that night, around 10:30, the doctor, Dr. Martin, a long time family friend came in. I rose to meet him.

"Doctor?" I said.

"This is hard for me to say. I'm afraid there is no other choice but to let him go." He said somberly.

"I understand," I said in reply. "How long will he have?"

"About 5 hours," he said.

I replied, "Thank you for all your help. You've really helped us through this."

"I just wish the outcome would have been better."

"Don't we all. But, as much as I hate to admit it," I said, "This might be for the best."

Dr. Martin disconnected the machinery keeping him alive. I woke the others. I told them we had to let him go. They all began to cry, but they knew, like I did, that it was for the best. We spent the next few hours saying our goodbyes. We told stories of good times and bad times. Their father's death. Me taking care of them these many years. Finally, the doctor came in again. He said he only had a few minutes.

"Did he have a favorite song?" the doctor inquired.

It was hard to think of. Then, out of the blue, it hit me.

Kris Kristofferson-1970. He loved this song.

I picked up a guitar and started strumming:

Don't look so sad, I know it's over

But life goes on and this old world will keep on turning

(Then his brothers joined in)

Let's just be glad we had some time to spend together

There's no need to watch the bridges that we're burning

(Then the girls joined in)

Lay your head upon my pillow

Hold your warm and tender body close to mine

Hear the whisper of the raindrops blowing soft against the window

And make believe you love me one more time for the good times

I'll get along, you'll find another

And I'll be here if you should find you ever need me

Don't say a word about tomorrow or forever

There'll be time enough for sadness when you leave me

(Dr. Martin joined in on the last chorus)

Lay your head upon my pillow

Hold your warm and tender body close to mine

Hear the whisper of the raindrops blowing soft against the window

And make believe you love me one more time for the good times

About a minute later, he died. I could've sworn he had a smile on his face. We began to cry. Dr. Martin put his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." he said.

"Thank you, Doc," I said.

We all just sat there for some time, while he just lie there, in state. At one point, his girlfriend gave him a goodbye kiss. He was cold and rigid. We finally began to leave. She turned around, looking at her boyfriend and blew him a kiss having the last word.

"Goodbye, Alvin," she said. And the smile was still frozen on his face.