Page 91 of A Bond with the Dark

We’re sitting in the back row of the big room, next to the floor-length windows that line the east side of the gallery.

Moving like a cloud at the mercy of wind, I slip out the doors Sayah’d left open and spill the spelled water onto the mountain soil, returning to her side before anyone could know I left.

As the video subsides, there’s a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder that causes a collective jump within the group.

A tumultuous rain follows and beckons the ceremony goers from their seats to hover over by the windows.

The funny thing about this rain is that there are no clouds directly above us. There’s a dusty blue sky and clouds all around, but nothing to explain the rain falling straight down from the sky from nowhere.

Commotion and chatter arise as her aunts, eyes agape and filled with tears, look at Sayah knowingly and open the doors to the patio.

Sayah, Gauge, her parents, and I join them on the deck to observe the phantom storm. I hold her as we all watch the rain fall on the lake, the ground, and the mountains and over the covered balcony of the art studio.

As we’re watching the rain, I hear whispers of the celebration goers how coincidental it is that rain falls after all the mention of storms in the eulogy.

For the rest of the celebration, we go around to everyone who has come, snacking on the food and drinking our sparkling cider.

When all but close family remain, I take Sayah for a walk down by the water to soak up the scenery.

The rain has ceased, and the sun is bright and welcoming, especially to me. I am still in wonder of the sun and being drenched in it. I have her sunglasses on—as I have yet to buy my own.

“You did well today,” I say as I hold her close, sitting on the stone bench at the water’s edge.

“Did I?” she asks.

“Your words to your mother were beautiful. I didn’t know you could write like that.”

“It’s my gift,” she whispers, laying her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for being here. And for helping me with my spells. You have no idea what it means to me.”

“Anything for you. I hope that your family likes me.”

“I think they do. I really do. Especially my dad. He’s old school, so he appreciates a good, firm handshake and being called ‘sir’. I think you won him over with that.”

“Well,” I say, shifting my weight a bit with pride, “it’s from the time that I’m from. People don’t treat people as they used to. I try to change that still.”

“I like it. Vampire or not, that shit’s dope.”

“Dope,” I repeat. “I think that word is outdated now. I heard a youngin’ the other day use the word ‘rizz’. Rizz is what we’re saying now.”

“Nope,” she laughs, snuggling in close to me. “Not happening.”

27

THE DARK HERO

SAYAH

“Bye, baby,” I say, crouching to hug Gauge. “Text me later, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Gauge kisses me on the cheek before I stand.

“Thank you for coming. Truly,” I say, embracing Derek’s wife, Chrissy, in a hug.

“Oh, goodness, you are welcome, honey. So sorry for your loss,” Chrissy replies, hugging me back.

“Thank you,” I answer.

Derek gives me a side hug, and I lean in quickly and then move away. “So sorry for your loss, Sayah.”

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