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This is the last time I will come here.
I’ll never set foot on this soil again.
I swear it to myself as I stand on the hill above the campsite in front of the wooden cross, holding Sophie’s hand on one side and Guillaume’s on the other.
I look down at my niece and nephew. Sophie’s expression is serene. She stares at the cross as if she’s seen thousands of them in her short life. Guillaume drills the tip of his shoe into the mud. To the side, Étienne sits on his haunches, inspecting a dung beetle that rolls a ball of manure up the hill. A distance away, perched on a rock, Johan throws stones into the water. They hit the stream with a glob and sink to the shallow bottom with circles rippling over the surface.
“Ready to go?” I ask the kids.
Sophie nods.
Guillaume shrugs.
We climb down to the spot where the camp used to be. There’s not much left of the crude settlement. Patches of earth where nothing grows mark where the tents stood. The soil was sanitized and the shack burned to the ground. It was the easiest way to prevent the spread of bacteria and disease.
I bought the small plot of land and got a permit from the municipality to have a grave dug. A funeral service company took care of the rest. I don’t want to give my grandfather more of my time than necessary, but I want the kids to get their closure. I’m not rushing them to say goodbye. Like I promised myself, once we leave here, I’m never coming back.
I lead the two youngest kids to Johan, leaving Étienne to study the beetle. “Shall we head back?”
Johan throws another stone, staring at the ripples in the water with a sullen expression.
I’m not good with words, but I try to remember what the psychiatrist said, that I should encourage them to talk about their feelings. “Do you miss him?”
He swings back his arm and launches a pebble through the air. His tone is curt. “No.”
“Then why the long face?”
He jumps to his feet. “I never want to see this fucking place again.”
“Language, Johan,” I say, making my voice stern, but he’s already charging down the hill toward the stream.
I let Sophie and Guillaume go with a pat on their backs. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
I go after Johan who’s facing the mountain with his arms pinned at his sides. His narrow back tenses as my footsteps crunch on the soil behind him.
“The money I got for selling the goats and the chickens will be divided between you and your brothers and sister. I already put it in the bank.”
He kicks at a rock. “I don’t care about the fucking money.”
“Watch your language,” I say again.
He spins around. “I know what you are.”
“Yeah?” I cross my arms and say with a chuckle, “Human?”
My attempted humor is lost on him. He sneers. “I know you’re in thebusiness.”
I raise a brow. “Is that so?”
“Everyone in town knows.”
“Good. Then they’ll know to mind their own damn business.”
He pulls himself to his full height. “I want to work with you.”
I smile. “You want to work with me?”
“Yes.” He holds my gaze squarely. “I know how to handle a gun.”
