Chapter 58
I waited for you today
But you didn't show
No no
I needed you today
But where did you go
You told me to call
Said you'd be there
And though I haven't seen you
Are you still there?
I cried out with no reply
And I can't feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here and I'm never alone
And though I cannot see you
And I can't explain why
Such a deep reassurance
You've placed in my life
We cannot separate
Cause you're part of me
And though you're invisible
I'll trust the unseen
- BarlowGirl
00000
Dylan and his little group didn't move on the next day. They woke to three inches of snow with more still falling, and Harper's cough had taken a decided turn for the worse. The dry cough of before had been replaced by a wet, ragged hacking that told Dylan the boy's lungs were starting to fill up with liquid. It was a catch twenty-two; move on in weather that would most likely kill the frail engineer, or stay there and lose precious days that Harper didn't have to waste. He hated it.
In the end, he decided the certainty of the frigid weather was the most immediate evil, especially as he saw the young man in the tepid morning light – wearily propped up on the bed, exhausted by endless pain and coughing. The scabbed and oozing wounds from the whip still stood out angry and red against the grey pallor of his bare skin, and his chained limbs remained limp and still. Once again, Dylan was struck with how small and terribly frail he looked, and how helpless he was to fix it.
But that didn't mean he didn't try. He searched the wreck from top to bottom, looking for anything that might help them, but especially a medical room, drug cabinet, first aid kit – anything. He found nothing. Whatever the ship might have had at one time, the survivors of the crash had taken it with them.
The only comfort he could find was the fact that at least Harper was relatively warm and dry. Twig, too.
Thoughts of Twig made his heart break again. As much as they'd both tried to keep it from the boy, Twig sensed the truth of Harper's condition. With eyes full of sad understanding, the tiny slave quietly refused to leave his friend's side. He spent the day talking to the engineer while he gently stroked his good hand, telling him stories as Harper had done for him so often in the past. Even though he could tell it was difficult for him, Dylan watched Harper struggle to answer the child – keep up his end of the conversation and reply to the boy's questions. The love and dedication that showed… Dylan was extremely moved as he understood the depths of love Harper truly felt for the boy, and a bit ashamed to acknowledge that a year ago, safely tucked away on his cozy spaceship, he would have flippantly laughed away the thought of Harper even being capable of that kind of caring. Oh, how much he'd learned; how blind he'd been. The universe called him a hero – brave, loyal, good; but it had taken a crippled young man and a tiny slave to teach him true bravery, true loyalty – real goodness.
By midday, emotions were overwhelming him and he couldn't stay in that place, watching. Couldn't sit there helpless anymore. He told Harper and Twig he was going to scout around and stepped out into the falling snow, his chains completely silent for once as he trudged through the white drifts, fighting for control.
00000
The deep shadows of nighttime were hugging the edges of the wreck when Harper made a quiet request. He wanted to go outside; he wanted to hear the snow and feel the stars.
There was something in the boy's voice… Something that meant Dylan shortly found himself sitting on a bench next to a Harper cocoon of blankets, Twig on his lap. Harper leaned against him, the cold air putting his cough at rest for once, and tipped his head back as if he was gazing at the sky. Unconsciously, Dylan mirrored him…
…and let out a silent gasp.
"Beautiful, isn't it," Harper whispered.
Breathtaking was more like it. All around them stretched a pristine landscape, perfect white snow broken only by groves of silent trees, their limbs draped with it. A moon hung low and huge in the wide, black sky, bathing the world with soft, silver light. Around the moon danced millions upon millions of twinkling stars. It was...indescribable. The silence, the wonder…it echoed of calmness – peace.
How long had it been since he looked for beauty in something? How had a blind man seen it before he did?
They sat for a long time - not talking, just soaking it all in. It was one of those rare moments in life that touch a person to the core, something simple and yet indescribable, a memory recorded not by the mind but by the heart on the soul.
Even lost in the beauty and peace of the moment, Dylan still noticed that Twig was staring at something, or rather, trying not to. He followed the boy's eyes and nodded. "I see her, too," he whispered gently. Their ethereal shadow, both solid and unseen, had followed them. He gave the boy a tiny hug, understanding all the confessions, questions, and relief that went unspoken. And somehow she – their long denied companion – belonged, did nothing to diminish the loveliness or break the mood.
Snatches of memories flashed through Dylan's mind as he continued to sit there: whispered words, cries in the night, sentences left dangling… "Harper," the captain spoke quietly, glancing back at the girl-not-there, "who is Colleen?" It was important. Dylan knew this – the answer was tied and connected to his friend's soul, wrapped up in the very essence of what made him. So important that he'd always known instinctively that to ask was taboo. But here, with the stars, and the moonlight, and the soul-cleansing snow, it was time. It was like some unseen hand had reached down and stopped time, stopped the pain, paused the life-sucking illness and cough and given them this moment.
"Colleen was my sister," Harper finally said, not sounding surprised by the question. "Colleen Rόisín Harper."
Dylan waited, sadness filling him at this new knowledge.
"I was six when she was born," Harper went on, somehow finding the strength to tell this one last story. "My parents were so happy. They'd given up hope of having another kid that lived. But, after a few months, we started to realize something was wrong." Deep sadness filled his voice. "More wrong than just being a cold and hungry human baby in a ghetto on Earth." The boy sighed deeply. "We managed to sneak her to one of the secret Red Cross stations run by sympathetic off-worlders, but there was nothing they could do. Maybe on another planet, or in your glorious Commonwealth, or anywhere else, but not…"
Harper paused for a while, closing his eyes and fighting sadness as he mulled over memories long buried because they meant too much. Dylan just pulled Twig closer and waited, letting the serene calmness of the night wrap comfort around his friend in a way he couldn't.
"As she got older, her legs and arms started to twist and harden, and her movements became stiff and jerky. She couldn't walk and she never learned to talk, not in the normal way, but I always understood her." Harper turned his head to face his captain suddenly. "You know, I looked it up once back in the day. When I first got access to Rommie's files. I wanted to know what had been wrong with my sister. Cerebral Palsy. Completely eradicated on ninety-eight percent of planets during the Commonwealth, and one hundred percent preventable on the others – as long as proper care and treatment were given. Ironic, isn't it," Harper said bitterly. "My little sister was crippled by something that 'didn't exist'." Anger crept into his voice as he went on. "We had to be very careful, keep her hidden. Defective Kludges were to be turned over to the Ubers at birth and killed, and families that didn't and got caught hiding them would be broken up – parents killed and any kids sold into slavery."
Dylan felt his blood start to burn hot at everything he was hearing, the injustices of it all, and he turned away. "I'm sorry," he whispered, guilt burning in him for this child who had suffered, for all children who had suffered since the Fall, including the two sitting with him.
"Why?" Harper asked simply, anger melting away like energy he didn't have. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have stopped it." He gave his friend a small shrug of his shoulders, then continued with his story.
"Mom and Dad were busy trying to keep us all alive, so it was my job to watch after Colleen. I would put her on my shoulders and take her everywhere with me. She loved it, and I didn't mind." He laughed a little, as if remembering good times.
"She had a favorite song, this old Irish ballade called Colleen Malone. Called it her song, since it had her name. She'd ask me to sing it for her every day at least once. Caught no end of flak from some of the other guys for that but it was guaranteed to bring out her smile, and when she smiled you'd never have known that she was just a starving, crippled, forgotten kid on a slave planet. It lit up her whole face."
The young man closed his eyes, sinking deeper into his bundle of blankets. "She was so sweet and gentle, Dylan, despite all the horrors around us – so special. I know I'm gonna sound like the sappiest pansy ever when I say this, but it's true. I didn't just love her with my whole heart, she was my heart. I'd have done anything for her."
"I bet you were a wonderful big brother, Harper," Dylan said sincerely. "She must have loved you just as much."
A sad smile lifted Harper's chapped lips, and when he opened them again, Dylan noticed tears were glistening in his eyes. Understanding filled the captain's mind as the last bits and pieces of Harper's past clicked into place. Harper's gentleness and patience with Twig, his reluctance to play big-brother to the boy but once past that, his willingness to do anything for the tiny slave…
"She had this strange quirk," Harper rode over Dylan's thoughts as he continued his story. It was almost as though now that he'd started, he didn't want to stop talking about the sister he missed so much. "She loved soft things, loved how they felt. The year she turned five, I don't know how he managed to do it, but my dad got his hands on a rabbit's foot and gave it to her." Dylan noticed Harper was clutching his lucky rabbit's foot as he talked. "She'd spend hours just holding it, stroking the fur or rubbing it on her face. I'd never seen something so little make someone so happy."
The pause when Harper stopped this time was longer than ever, and Dylan instinctively sensed that the happy portion of this story was almost over.
"When I was almost thirteen, I sold some gadgets I'd built on the black market. Turned out my fence was a snitch and I landed myself in an Uber prison for a few months. Wasn't too bad. Couple months sitting in a stone box staring at the wall and I was out, but it meant I was in the system – had made some Niet's list of interest.
"Six months later they came."
"They?" Dylan asked.
"Slavers. Five armed Nietzscheans just to take one scrawny kid who'd made the mistake of showing he had a few brain cells." Harper's voice went very soft, so soft Dylan had to strain to hear the words laced with sorrow.
"Up to that point, my parents had always taken the duck and run approach to life on Earth," Harper explained.
"Not a bad one, given the circumstances," Dylan said, keeping his voice gentle. Harper was clearly working up to something deeply painful.
Harper gulped. "Well - with two kids to support, one of them illegal, I guess it was safer than defiance, no matter how much it rankled. But this time, they fought. They told me to take my sister and hide, to take care of her and keep her safe, and then they fought. Not that it did any good." Harper's voice cracked with an escaped sob. "I could have stopped it all, Dylan. If I'd just surrendered, gone with them then and become a good little slave, no one would have died. My family would still be alive. They died and it's all my fault."
"Harper," Dylan said slowly, aware he was treading through long nurtured horror and guilt. "I'm not saying I have any idea what they went through or what they were feeling, but I'm betting they never regretted what they did, saving you. And if they could see you now, everything you've done, all the good you've help accomplish, they'd be more than proud."
"You…you sound like Brendan," Harper muttered after a while. "That's what he tried to tell me."
"Maybe you should listen to him?" Dylan suggested kindly. He let the silence stretch for a few moments, allowing Harper his private thoughts and grief before asking gently, "What happened next, Harper?"
Harper closed his eyes again, consciously letting the peace and beauty of the night wash over him, strengthening and fortifying. "After…well after, I went a little crazy with anger. Vowed never to let anyone touch my little sister and that I'd keep her safe no matter what. I dragged us both off to the safest place I knew, the sewers, and joined up with Brendan and his resistance fighters. I told myself it was because it wasn't safe for me out there anymore, what with the Niets after me and all, and that I was doing it for Colleen, to protect her, but now I've had a year or ten to think about it, I know the truth. I wanted revenge, and Brendan offered the best way to get it.
"I started building things, going on raids, taking more and more risks. I'd leave Colleen with my Nana or Brendan's sister and be gone for hours, sometimes even days. I…I never stopped loving my sister, Boss, or thinking about her safety and well-being and stuff but… Well… I convinced myself that what I was doing was for her and not…not because I wanted to hurt them. I wanted to kill every last Uber, wipe them off the face of the Earth. I wanted them to feel the –" Harper gulped and broke off quickly, turning away.
"You were only a kid, Harper!" Dylan cried, dismayed at the self-loathing he heard in his friend's voice. "A kid expected to do more than any kid should have to. You can't be too hard on yourself. You kept her safe, alive." Unable to stop himself, he glanced over at their shadowy companion before adding, "I'm sure she never blamed you."
Harper's scowl softened, and his voice dropped again. "That's just it, Colleen never blamed anyone. She was too sweet. She loved me even more than before, which sometimes drove me nuts. She couldn't see the mean, hateful person I'd turned into. There I was, the big brother who was supposed to love and protect her, and not only had I got her parents murdered, but then I dragged her off to live in dark tunnels that reeked, far away from the only home she'd ever known.. I never took her outside to play anymore, hardly ever spent time with her, and sometimes I would be gone for days without even telling her. But there she'd be when I came back, bouncing with joy and excitement when she saw me, awkwardly clapping her hands which was her way of showing she was happy. Sometimes it made me so angry I'd end up screaming in a deserted tunnel. And – sometimes it was the only thing that kept me alive and sane," Harper added quietly.
"Won't ever forget Christmas, the year I was fifteen. I'd scrounged everywhere to try and get Colleen something special, anything, even an extra helping of bread, but it didn't matter. It was a bad year and there wasn't a crumb. Went to bed feeling like the biggest loser in the world, and woke up to a badly wrapped package sitting in front of my face and a grinning Colleen." Harper lowered his head, making it difficult for Dylan to catch his next words. The captain could hear the weariness from pain and illness creeping back into his friend's voice and knew the brief respite from all the horrors of their daily life was nearing its end. "It was her rabbit's foot," the boy went on. "Nana had helped her wrap it. She gave it to me so I'd have luck in my new job." His voice cracked. "I tried to give it back but she wouldn't take it. Made me promise to always wear it."
Despite the pain in those words, Dylan smiled. "She loved you, Harper. You couldn't change that, or stop it, even if you felt you didn't deserve it. Which, for the record, I think you did."
"Not done with the story yet, Boss," Harper muttered wearily. "I pushed her away. It hurt too much to…let her love me. I got cocky and angry and careless, and… My luck ran out. Went out to celebrate my sixteenth birthday in style and woke up in a slave pit. And it was in that dark, disgusting hole that I finally realized exactly what I'd done. How utterly I'd failed the one person I'd vowed to take care of."
"Harper, I –"
"Just let me finish, Dylan," Harper cut in, fighting back a cough. "I realized what a complete idiot I'd been, and I knew I had to get out. Had to escape so I could take care of Colleen again, make it up to her. It was the only thing that kept me going during all…that," he said quietly, knowing Dylan would understand everything he wasn't saying. "The only reason I even fought to stay alive when I usually just wanted to sit down and die. Colleen was out there, waiting for me to come home, and I couldn't let her down again."
"But, it didn't matter," the engineer whispered, his voice cracking as the tears he'd been holding back finally crested his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "By the time I escaped, she was gone. Brendan had tried to take care of her, but he had an army to lead and it shouldn't have been his job anyway. A Nietzschean cleansing-squad raided the tunnels while they were out one day and took her away. She'd been…dead a year before I even got there to find out."
Dylan saw a look more lost than anything he'd ever seen before settle on his friend's face – one full of hurt and shame and loss, and he now understood the true reason Harper had never mentioned his time as a slave before. "I was such a fool, Dylan," the young man continued. "The biggest failure in the universe. I couldn't face it, couldn't face anyone. So I ran away. I abandoned everyone, the few friends and family I had left, and took the first exit I could find. And…well…you know the rest of the life story of the worthless and pathetic Seamus Zelazny Harper."
"Harper, you didn't let anyone down," Dylan tried to argue. "You were as much a victim as she was, stuck in an evil you had absolutely no control over!"
But Harper shook his head, his tears falling softly as his breath caught – partly from crying and partly from repressed coughs. "She was my sister, Boss. My innocent, sweet, baby sister. I should have been able to protect her," he gulped.
Dylan hung his head, not sure what to do or say in the face of such a deep and long-held grief. But, to his astonishment, Twig did. Quietly, the little boy slipped off his lap and onto the bench next to Harper. Reaching up without hesitation, he wiped the tears off the engineer's face. "I want to hear Colleen's song."
Harper turned blind eyes on the boy in surprised shock. "I…you…what?" His voice was weak now, and Dylan could see the tremors of fatigue and illness coming back.
"Colleen's song. I want to hear it. Please?"
"Twig, it's been so long… I'm…I'm not even sure I remember it."
"Just try. I wanna hear it. And so does she," Twig said, his small voice filled with weighty authority.
"Okay," the young man agreed eventually. He turned his face away from his friends and toward the empty wild around them, self-conscious. His voice, barely a whisper, was scratchy and hoarse and not a little off-key when he started hesitantly. "It's been ten years and three since I first went to sea, since I sailed from old Ireland and home. But those hills lush and green were a part of my dreams, when I dreamed of my Colleen Malone.
"On the day I returned to my sorrow I learned, that the angels had called her away," Harper's voice cracked as the full meaning of what he was singing hit him with force, and he realized this wasn't his sister's song, it was his. Gulping, he let the tears stream out as he went on in a broken voice. "To a grave on a hill overlooking the mill, that's the place where she's sleeping today.
"As the soft breezes blow through the meadow I go, past the mill with the moss covered stone. Up the pathway I climb through the woods and the vines, to be with my Colleen Malone."
"She was faithful each day as I sailed far away, there was no one but me that she loved. I remember those eyes soft and blue as the skies, and her heart was as pure as a dove…" His voice trailed off, the words replaced by a wet, hacking cough. "I…I can't remember anymore," he eventually choked out. Dylan wasn't sure it was true, but wouldn't have dreamed of asking for more anyway. His own face was suspiciously wet and he wasn't sure he could take any more verses either.
"Come on, Harper," he said, rising to his feet. "It's time to get you back inside. You've sat out here in the cold long enough."
Harper didn't reply, just nodded, his cough back in full force. Gently, the captain helped the boy up and led his two young charges past their human shadow and back into the shelter of the wrecked ship.
00000
Dinner was another package of long expired food stores. Clam chowder the package said. Rubber erasers in goo Harper renamed it. Secretly, Dylan agreed with him, but, these days, food was food, and everyone ate it without complaining.
The joke about the food was the last thing Harper said for a long, long time. Dylan watched his silent friend with a growing pit of despair in his stomach. After their strange and beautiful time outside and the secret he'd finally managed to share, the boy seemed to slide quietly but surely downhill. As though with the building of the signal and the sharing of that last piece of his past, he'd accomplished everything he was holding out for. And, now…now he was just waiting.
Fear and grief gripping his heart, Dylan put Twig to bed and then sat in the dark beside his frail friend, watching his thin chest rise and fall, counting each breath.
"Dylan?"
Harper's whisper caught him off guard but his voice had never sounded so wonderful. "What, Harper?" he replied gently.
"Can I go home now?"
"Tomorrow. We'll start on the trail again tomorrow, and it can't be much farther. We'll be home before you know it."
"No, Boss. Not Andromeda – home. I'm tired, Dylan. I'm ready to go…home."
It hit him like a ton of bricks. Harper was asking his permission to die.
What did he say? Every instinct inside him wanted to scream no and shake the boy until thoughts like that went away, but… Was that really fair? Was that really what was best for Harper, or just what he wanted? Harper had suffered so much, was still suffering each and every minute of everyday… Was it time to let him go? Let his friend finally find peace?
Was it even his decision to begin with?
He didn't answer. He couldn't. And in the end, it didn't matter. As he sat there racked with indecision and sorrow, Harper's eyes slid closed and his emaciated chest gradually stilled.
Grief, hot and strong washed over the captain. It stole his breath, stung his eyes, clenched his chained hands into fists. It wasn't fair! They'd come so far, were so close… Harper had suffered so much and hung on despite it all, and now with freedom just within their reach… It…it just wasn't fair…
Unable to look at the small, broken body before him, he hung his head. Unbidden, a picture of Harper rose to his mind – a short, funny fellow, hideously bright shirt, talking a mile a minute about some project that practically had him drooling, hands waving in excitement.
Something fearsome rose up in Dylan at that mental image, fearsome, strong, and uncontrollable, and it shoved the grief aside. Anger? Determination? Selfishness? Dylan didn't care. Perhaps it was purely his own selfish need not to be left alone, but he could live with that. He just knew this was wrong. Harper was not the pathetic, beaten figure lying before him in chains – Harper was that hyper, fashion-impaired boy genius and he was going to get the chance to be that again! Harper was going to live.
"No!" he suddenly felt himself shouting, glancing over at the shadowy presence in the corner, a presence that had been steadily coming into sharper focus as Harper faded away. "No! You can't have him yet! It's not your turn!"
And Dylan tipped back his friend's head to begin breathing for him.
00000
Harper blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the warm, bright light. The white sands of Infinity Atoll stretched far to his left, and the sparkling blue ocean lapped at his toes on the right. The only thing missing was a surfboard, he noted. He turned around to see if there might just be one behind him only to discover he wasn't alone.
She was sitting on a large rock, her knees pulled up to her chest. Her strawberry-blonde pig-tails were done up in ribbons that matched the yellow of her sundress, and a very familiar grin was mingling with the freckles on her face.
"Colleen?" Harper asked, bewildered.
The girl nodded happily.
"So, am I –"
"Yes," she answered before he could finish. "And no." She slid off the rock and walked up to him, slipping her small hand into his.
"But, I can see…" he said, still confused.
"And I can walk and talk," Colleen replied with a shrug, like it was no big deal.
"Where are we?" Harper asked, looking around again at the achingly familiar landscape. "This isn't quite what I imagined –"
"Expecting more fires and pitchforks?" his sister broke in sweetly, a sly grin on her face.
"No," Harper replied indignantly. "Clouds and harps, thank you very much. And when did you get so cheeky, anyway?"
"You taught me," she pointed a finger at him as she laughed, a clear laugh that sounded like bells tinkling and she skipped off a little ways from him.
"So, where are we?" Harper asked again as he followed, still trying to wrap his brain around the fact that he could see, and his little sister was here beside him, skipping and laughing and talking. "And how can I be both dead and not dead?"
"Silly Seamus, always asking questions. We're in the Tween Place."
"The what?"
"The Tween Place – between here and there. It's a place for people to choose."
"To choose to live or die, right?" Harper guessed, finally catching on. She nodded. "So, why are you here?"
She stopped skipping and turned back to him, a suddenly serious look spread across her face. "I've been taking care of you, Shay," she said earnestly. "Watching over you. You're very difficult to take care of, but I did it. Just like you did for me."
Guilt ripped through Harper, and he turned away, sinking to his knees in the warm sand. "Colleen," he stuttered brokenly, "I didn't take care of you. I left you, broke my promise, let you get hurt – killed," he cried, gasping at the pain saying those things gave him.
He didn't look up until he felt a pair of small hands on his shoulders. "Seamus Zelazny Harper, you stop that right now," Colleen said firmly, rolling her eyes. It was amazing how like his mother she sounded when she said that. "You took the best care of me that anyone could. I loved you, more than anything, and I still do. You just gotta stop beating yourself up. You've got a gazillion other people to do that for you, I've been watching you, so I know."
Harper looked away, stubbornly refusing to accept the forgiveness his little sister was offering, a forgiveness he still felt he didn't deserve. "Hey, hey, big brother," Colleen said gently, ducking her freckled face to follow his as she knelt down in the sand next to him. "Don't you remember? What you always told me? Don't worry, be happy," she smiled, rubbing the tears off his cheeks.
Finally, Harper felt something huge and heavy that had been sitting on his shoulders for as long as he could remember melt away. With a sob, he wrapped his arms around his sister and cried, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him.
Eventually they parted, Colleen's hand slipping easily back down into his as they stood up, smiling at each other. "I've missed you, little sis," Harper whispered fiercely.
"Missed you, too, big bro," Colleen laughed. "But you gotta go now."
"What?" Harper said. "I just got here."
"Your time to choose is up and you need to go back," Colleen told him, solemn once more.
"Colleen, I don't want to. I wanna stay with you. Die, move on, whatever you call it. I wanna go meet Mom and Dad and Nana and –"
His sister was shaking her head earnestly, pig-tails bobbing. "No, Shay, you can't. It's not your time yet. That's what I've been trying to tell you this whole time, ever since I started taking care of you, but you've always been stubborn. You never listened."
"Colleen –" Harper tried again, but, in true Harper fashion, his sister overrode him again.
"Shay, it's not your time. The universe still needs you. Dylan and Twig need you. He's never told you, but you remind Dylan of his little brother. And Twig needs a dad. And then there's Beka. She'd fall apart without you there to bug her. And Trance –"
"Okay, okay," Harper threw up his hands. "I get the point. Everyone needs the Harper. But Colleen, I need you guys, my family. I miss you so much."
"We're not going anywhere, silly. Still be here when it is your time. Besides, we're not that far away."
As she said it he could suddenly feel them, could feel the love and support of his family all around him, holding him, lifting him up. It didn't matter that he still couldn't see them, he knew they were there, just as they always had been. He'd just been too bitter or too busy to notice. It helped. It helped more than he could ever say, but it still didn't fix everything.
"I'm…I'm scared, Colleen. I don't want to go back. I don't want to go back to the dark and the pain."
"Sometimes, we have to do things we don't like, Shay," Colleen said with a wisdom far beyond her eleven years. "We don't always get what we want in life. But, don't lose hope. They're on their way. Beka's coming to get you, just like she promised."
In the next instance, two things happened simultaneously. Harper saw a bright light in the distance, felt it start to pull on him, and on the other horizon two small shapes appeared, calling his sister's name. Colleen turned to them and waved happily, then turned back to her brother.
"I gotta go now, Shay. I promised Declán and Siobhán I'd build a tree-house with them." She smiled at him, that beautiful smile he remembered so well. "Love ya, big brother. I'll be watching you."
Before Harper could say anything she turned and skipped away, hair and dress bouncing. And then she was gone and Harper was falling, falling backwards through the light.
00000
Harper sucked in a ragged breath on his own and gasped, his eyes fluttering open. Muttering a small prayer of intense relief, Dylan let his arms drop and sagged by his side, weak from worry and burning determination. Gratefully, he hadn't had to breathe for the boy for more than thirty seconds or so.
"Dylan?" Harper croaked.
"Right here, Harper," Dylan replied as he took the young man's hand, not caring if the boy heard the tears in his voice. Glancing over at the corner, Dylan saw their huddled, ragged shadow…but she wasn't ragged anymore. In her place stood a bright, freckle-faced girl who was already fading away. She smiled and waved at him, before melting into the ship. In seconds it was as though she'd never been there at all. Belatedly, he nodded after her then looked back at his friend. "Right here, Harper," he repeated firmly. "Not going anywhere."
"Me neither," Harper relied softly. "Me neither."
00000
It's been ten years and three since I first went to sea
Since I sailed from old Ireland and home
But those hills lush and green were a part of my dreams
When I dreamed of my Colleen Malone
On the day I returned to my sorrow I learned
That the angels had called her away
To a grave on a hill overlooking the mill
That's the place where she's sleeping today
As the soft breezes blow through the meadow I go
Past the mill with the moss covered stone
Up the pathway I climb through the woods and the vines
To be with my Colleen Malone
She was faithful each day as I sailed far away
There was no one but me that she loved
I remember those eyes soft and blue as the skies
And her heart was as pure as a dove
All the years of my life I will not take a wife
I will live in this valley alone
Planting flowers around in this soft gentle ground
That is holding my Colleen Malone
- Pete Goble and LeRoy Drumm