Page 105 of Light As A Feather
“Of course.” I stop dancing to grab her hand and lead her toward the stairs.
“I didn’t mean right now.” She laughs but follows.
“What better time than the present?” I take the stairs two at a time, eager to get her to myself for a bit. Carefully rolling thecandles, dried wood, and other tributes into the velvet cloth that sits beneath the glass case that Curio now resides in, I hand it to Sol while I take charge of carrying the fox.
“Careful,” Sol murmurs. It’s a little more awkward than I expect to carry the case down, but I take it slow, not wanting her to worry.
“Be right back,” I shout over my shoulder as we step out the back door. When we finally get out to the mausoleum, it’s a relief to set her down.
Leaning against the wall, I sit back and let Sol get to work setting up her new space, arranging the candles and dried berries before placing the fox at the center.
“Thank you for doing this, for taking care of her.” Sol is thoughtful as she fusses with the altar. “I wish I could have been here.” She pauses, choking back the emotion that strains her voice. “But it’s good to know she wasn’t completely alone.” There’s nothing to say. I simply allow her to grieve the choice she had to make and the memory of what she considered a close friend.
I couldn’t stop nature from running its course, but I could give her new life, as Sol liked to call it. It was the least I could do, really.
Inside the glass enclosure, Curio rests peacefully on a matching swath of velvet, looking like she could just be curled up, taking a nap as she often was when I’d meet up with Sol. Like Sol, it took a bit for the fox to warm up to me, but once she did, she’d follow me around just as much, even coming up to the house looking for her companion. We bonded in that way when Sol left us, together in the loss of her.
When she finishes, Sol leans against me as she admires the faint filtered light that slips through the stained glass, illuminating Curio in a rainbow of muted colors.
“It’s perfect, and now, she won’t be alone anymore,” she voices her running thoughts aloud. “I think I want to preserve some butterflies for her and add them to her case, would that be okay?”
“Of course. Whatever would make you happy.”
As if summoned by the newfound peace of her final resting place, the gray fox runs into the mausoleum and makes her ghostly reappearance. When she greets us with a whine and happy wiggle, Sol gasps with joy, kneeling to give her scratches before gathering Curio in her arms. “She came back to me.”
“She must have just been waiting for the right time.” I kiss the top of her head, grateful that I can still smell the earthy scent of her skin and the plum notes in her perfume thanks to my connection to both sides of the veil.
It’s a unique gift—that she’s just as present and real to me as she’s ever been—one that I won’t ever take for granted. One that makes me excited for the unconventional but fitting future we have together.
I meant it when I said she was my omen. I don’t know what I ever did to get so lucky, but I’m so grateful she walked into my life and possessed me—body, mind, and soul. There’s no one else I’d rather haunt this house with.
2065 (42 YEARS LATER)
The mausoleum is packed with my favorite people laughing, crying, and waiting as I add the powdered medication to the concoction I’m supposed to drink. Despite the emotions running high, they’re all here, dressed in their best black attire, standing around my casket.
“You’re sure about this?” Mendez asks one last time, his voice a bit less stable than usual.
I nod and take a hearty swig of the lethal beverage. Even though it tastes terrible, there’s not a single doubt in my mind that this is the right decision. I’ve lived a full life. I’ve seen the sights, traveled near and far…found my person. I’ve been more fortunate than most. And in the end, I’m truly not losing anything by passing on. If anything, it’s been incredibly taxing to wait this long. I’m ready to join Sol on the other side.
She squeezes my hand, as if she can read my mind.
Jayden approaches with a glass of the whiskey Sol and I picked up on our trip to Edinburgh. Happy memories of breathtaking medieval architecture, watching Sol run through castles, and cemetery walks at dusk fill my mind with each sip. Ikiss her tattooed hand, and seeing my own excitement reflected back at me takes away any fear about the discomfort of my impending death. I know she’ll be at my side through it as I take my final breaths.
But I savor these last few minutes, taking it all in. The brisk winter breeze blows through the open doors, bringing with it a breath of fresh air and some much-needed levity that’s contagious.
“Speech, speech, speech, speech!” Hale chants enthusiastically.
Mendez rolls his eyes as I take hold of his shoulder to give myself some momentum—despite my slower aging due to my ghostly condition, I’m not as agile as I once was—and climb up onto the bier. Looking down at everyone, I feel completely and utterly fulfilled. I’m incredibly fortunate that I’ve surrounded myself with people who understand and love me on a fundamental level. People who I know won’t forget about me in death.
“First and foremost, I just want to take a moment to thank you all for being here. I know this has been difficult for everyone to come to terms with. But I’m not going anywhere; you always know where to find me.” Taking a moment, I make eye contact with each of my friends who have become so much more than that; what started out as a ragtag team of misfits has turned into a family. “I know you all have your own lives, but please don’t be strangers.”
“You all are welcome here any time,” Sol chimes in as I pull the custom keys we had made from my pocket. Inspired by some of her favorite antique styles in her collection, she was adamant about designing the keys with each of them in mind.
Crouching down, I hand them out.
Zoey is the last to grab theirs, clutching my hand between their palms. “We’ll miss you on the annual New Year’sinvestigation trip, but I’ll make sure to come by and tell you all about it.” My heart aches just a bit at the reminder of the commitment we all made to each other after retiring.
“Don’t be a stranger, Z.”
