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“Not you worst either, though, I’m sure.” I give him a wave and start to move my feet.
This is goodbye.
“Do you have a minute? I have something I’ve wanted to give you.”
“Sure, I can wait.” I stare across the street and watch the cars pass. He has a white package wrapped in tissue paper when he comes outside.
“My grandmother gave it to me when you were born. It’s a birthing blessing. I found it when we cleared out my mother’s room after she passed.”
“She lived here with you and Lacey?” I fold out the tissue paper to see what is inside.
There is an envelope shape with silk fabric, one white with gold lettering, and the older faded one with red cloth and similar lettering.
“Just the last few months; my older sister couldn’t take care of her anymore with her own health issues.” He waits for me to examine the gift thoroughly before speaking. “They areomamoriamulets. They’re supposed to protect you and bring good luck. You don’t open them; they are a charm you hang somewhere or carry. The white one is yours; the red one was mine when I was born.”
My fingers run over the smooth fabric; I’ve seen these before, but never knew what they meant. I guess I did find what I came looking for.
“Thank you.” Putting the tissue paper back around them.
“I’m sorry for the way my mother treated you. I am sorry I didn’t protect you.” Niko means his words.
“Protect them.” I nod to his house, where a little boy sticks his head under the curtains.
“I will.” I give him a side smile and walk to the sidewalk. “Hey, Phoebe?”
“Yeah?” I check to the side where he still stands.
“You did an amazing job raising yourself. My family name is honored by your life.” I can see the tears in his eyes, the privilege of calling me his blood, in his stuttering voice. Niko needs me to know.
“Thanks, Dad.” And now I do.
Chapter 15
Kenzo
37.7749° N, 122.4194° W San Francisco, California
Wheredoyougoafter getting out of the same routine and schedule you have been on for the past three and a half years? I could keep going with the same career, but that last year, I wanted out. I wanted to be done.
Can anyone get sick of the sunshine of paradise? Because that is where I am. The ocean looks pale compared to others I have seen. I want to be done; I need to be free again. Connors, my best friend at this point in my life, got transferred to California, and I guess it didn’t sound too bad. So while he went to the Navy base, I went to find something else.
Leave me behind.
Like the wind chases after a new disaster.
Lusting toward new destruction.
We can’t hide behind a new flame.
But I cherish watching you run as I wait for another to see how beautiful your footsteps become on the concrete next to your apologies.
You could chant lies to me miles wide, and I would smile, knowing how far-fetched they’ve come.
Leave the ashes still warm in my palm.
The carcass of roadkill is a memory of an intimate desire of passion wronged.
I reach out to grasp the beginning remnants of your absence, like a cool breeze exchanging pleasant handshakes.
