Four
Imri
“Imri,honey,Momsaysthe house needs some work.”
“Hey, Mama, yeah. Look, this place is weird. Did Uncle Malik tell you who was helping him with it?” I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel in the parking lot of the hardware store. Jeff was loading my purchases to take them out to my house. Wouldn’t be right away, but I was hungry and needed to eat before I got mean, or meaner than usual.
The way the other shoppers kept staring at me was really irritating. Again, I’d noticed most had different bands to mine, the same kind Jeff had. Only one guy, a tall, lean but cute omega, had the same one I did. He caught me looking and stared back at me, his expression complicated. Watching him, I tried to guess what he was and decided he was some kind of cat. He had the same grace as one. Anotherpredator like me was wearing the same type of band. There had to be some significance.
My stomach rumbled. I caught another frown from a local, souring my mood further. I felt too close to snapping. Once I spoke to Mama, I was going to find somewhere decent to eat.
On the other side of the phone, I heard her sigh. “You haven’t read the letter he sent, have you?”
“What letter?” She had my full attention.
“Baby boy, you need to go to your mailbox and check to see if the letter was sent.” I heard her moving around. She was probably on a job site and taking a few minutes’ break to call me.
“In it, Malik explains everything, or he said he would before he passed.” She paused. When she resumed, her voice sounded sadder. I knew she was grieving for the brother she’d lost. “Look, the situation in Haenvale is complex. Malik was doing his best, knowing he’d probably not live very long. Thing was, that place is why he lived as long as he did. Malik claimed it was the sweet sea air or something. I think there was something else going on.”
That comment piqued my interest. Still, I was stuck on the first part. “He wrote me a letter?”
She got that sick of my shit tone I was used to hearing from her, especially in my teen years. “Yes, Imri, there’s a letter. Go read it. Call me back if you have questions, but I don’t know all that much. Just bits and pieces. Malik kept a lot of things to himself.”
With those words, the call was cut off. I did get a text not long after.
Mama
We’ll be out in a couple of weeks. The start of June at the latest. Got a hotel. We’re taking the camper for my tools. Call your Mom later.
Cool, well, at least with them at the hotel, I’d get some peace to enjoy my house. I really did love and appreciate them for dropping everything to come help me out. I’d been lucky with my family. My siblings were great, even though they were much older than me. There was a decade between me and my brother. Fifteen years between me and my sister.
Determined to get some answers and sick of the stares, I stopped by the grocery store for some sandwich fixings instead of eating out. I took a different route back out of town, entering the woods where I’d heard the mailbox and the shed were. I drove slowly, somethingcompelling me to linger in the town. There was this feeling I was missing something. In other places I’d have thought I’d picked up a scent, but with the inhibitor working, there was nothing to catch.
Once I’d lingered long enough that my stomach was sore from being empty, I made my way out of town to check out this letter. I was shocked at how big both the mailbox and shed were.
Turns out, I’d used this damn road, just given the mailbox and shed no mind when I’d arrived the day before. I’d been more interested in getting to the house. The property was still a mile down a beaten track, which made me glad I’d traded in my car. If I was going to stay here, getting a new road was a priority.
I parked and switched off the engine before heading to the shed. Sure enough, the code Jeff had kindly gotten for me did work on the lock. Inside the cool, dark building, there was a chest freezer and an under counter fridge. There were shelves, probably for cans and packets, then some space for odds and ends. The space was immaculately clean.
“Cool,” I muttered to myself. My eyes lingered on the chest freezer. Opening it, I realizedit was still on, yet the appliance was empty. Same with the fridge when I checked. There was zero food anywhere. No tools. The shed was just a shell, waiting for stuff to be delivered. Someone had to have cleared it out for him.
The mailbox was pretty big. Inside were a ton of letters. Bills, reminders from Haenvale about taxes, elections. Most of it was addressed to my uncle. A few, like the water and phone bills, were for me. Then I found it. A handwritten envelope with my name on it.
Holding it in one hand, the rest in my other, I returned to my truck. I dumped most of the mail on the passenger seat, examining the letter from Uncle Malik once more.
I decided to head back to my trailer, make a sandwich, and read the letter under the AC. When I started the engine, my eyes went to a copse of trees a few hundred yards from my mailbox. I didn’t have a clue why, but my gaze lingered there for a moment, until the growing hunger in my belly returned me to the present.
Food, then I’d read the letter.
While the envelope was handwritten, the letter inside was not. Uncle Malik had only written this letter around a month before he died, by the date at the top. At that time, he was communicating with his carers through his computer since he wouldn’t let us visit and see him wasting away. He could type well enough, just not speak or hold a pen for long. He had really suffered those last few months until he was able to have his petition to die accepted by the courts.
The government had him checked by two doctors before they gave him a potion to end his life and ease his suffering. There was no cure for shifting sickness. It was a kindness to help him die peacefully.
The letter was sweet and full of feeling. Unfortunately, it left me with more questions than answers. His words were moving. While I would always wish I’d said goodbye in person, I also felt gratitude to him for not allowing us to see him in those last few months. I got toremember him as the kind uncle I knew from my childhood. His memory was untarnished by the awful sickness which stole him far too soon.
Imri,
I have started this letter so many times to explain why I left most of my property, money from my inventions and my dearest possessions to you. My sister is the best of people. She always made me feel welcome in her family, understanding why I didn’t have one of my own. You always had a special smile for your poor uncle. I kept my distance, though. My time on this earth was always going to be cut short, and I didn’t want to be a burden.
