Elemental: Chapter Four, Part 3

That morning I sat watching the sunrise. I suspected Drei failed to sleep as well, despite his curled appearance. He seemed to know more than I gave him credit for, and it made me question if he ever revered sunrises as he did the moon. In all his years, did he ever find hope in the coming of the new day? Or had he always been content with the loneliness of night?

Over the next week, Drei inquired of my past, though part of me was convinced he already knew much of it. In the midst of this storytelling, I came to realize all of my worthwhile, fun, exciting, revealing stories featured my father spending time with me. Not family time. Just one on one time. Shopping and storytelling, other things along those lines, plus the basics to life: bike riding, reading, writing, first camping trip. By the time I reached things like first dates, he was working more often away from home.

Granted, all of this was against my plan of forgetting everything I was leaving behind. Perhaps Drei thought the good memories would suppress the nightmarish ones.

He would even occasionally comment on his own life when I neared a livid memory or a forgotten woe. His life amazed me. Well, life is too general a term since it was more glimpses and pieces. He spoke most often of his younger twin sisters and protecting them. Each time I questioned what had happened to them, he burrowed away from me, leaving me to wonder what could have gone so terribly wrong.

“We will be there tomorrow around sunrise,” Drei informed me toward the start of our fourth week of travel.

Camp for the night had already been settled and I was on the verge of sleep. The knowledge of being able to sleep on something more comfortable than grass lifted my spirits. We hadn’t seen a small town for several days and the lack of people was starting to take its toll as well. Mostly, I was just weary of traveling.

“Tell me a story, Drei,” I requested, yawning, “about you and your sisters.”

Drei faced me from where he lay, a bemused smile playing across his lips. “You enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy yours.” I laid half-awake, waiting for his words to lull me to sleep.

There was a smile in his voice as he started; “One night, Avery and Ashlyn were running through the halls. They did it often enough, since there were no adults awake to stop them.” He paused momentarily, as if reassuring his grasp on that particular memory. “But it was different. I had not noticed Ashlyn’s hoarse cries until their third passing. It was upsetting; their jaunts were usually filled with laughter and private jokes. To hear her hoarse and pleading, and Avery not at all, was startling for me; so I awaited their next passing outside my room.

“Both stopped in their tracks at the sight of me, as though I were a ghost or some other menacing figure of the night. Ashlyn appeared to hold back tears to keep up a steady chase, but now she burst, wave after wave washing from her eyes. Avery clung protectively to a leather bound volume before releasing it and bursting as well.”

Solemnity filled his voice as he spoke. Whatever had happened to them made this memory hard for him to share; I wondered why he would do so if it hurt him.

“I walked to my sisters, kneeling between them and questioning what had transpired. Avery, it became clear, had taken Ashlyn’s favorite volume of illustrated fairy tales. At my suggestion, we stole away to my room, the book in my custody. Avery and Ashlyn sat on either side of me, our backs to the wall; Avery apologized as her sniffling subsided, but Ashlyn did not want to forgive her; she said just as much. She looked to cry again until Ashlyn climbed over me and fiercely hugged her.

“‘I love you,’ she told Avery.

“I surprised her when I said, ‘Then you forgive her.’ Her natural question was ‘why’, to which my reply was, ‘Because when you love someone, you always forgive them.’ That is what I told them that night, and I still believe it.”

Drei stopped a moment. Despite my weariness, I could feel him debating whether to continue or let that be the end. Whatever he decided would be fine with me. I could already feel myself slipping away.

“After their reconciliation and a few lighthearted laughs at the expense of everyone present,” he continued, his tone brightening, “I read the last story of the volume to my sisters. They were slumped sleepily against me about halfway through. Before they slipped completely off to sleep, Avery said, ‘Thank you,’ and Ashlyn added, ‘We love you, Drei.’”

Hearing the official end of the story, I slipped deeper toward sleep. Just before entering complete unconsciousness, however, I thought I heard Drei whisper, “I will always forgive you, Abriel.” And I couldn’t help but wonder if he didn’t mean something more than that. That perhaps he meant he loved me.