Chapter 24: Carried

My father spoke to the urn.

"Ellis."

His voice was low. It carried all the same.

"I'm your father. I never said that to you once."

He swallowed.

"I said it to the board and to the press. I never said it to you."

He took another step.

"I made a test out of you. I thought I was making a man."

He looked at the water.

"I was only making you lonely."

Nobody on the bank breathed.

"Your arm was broken, and I wrote a single word on the page."

His voice shook.

"I will see that word every night until I die, and I will deserve to."

He stopped and pressed a fist against his mouth.

"You were never the test. I was. I failed it, and you paid."

He bowed his head.

"That is all. I have no right to ask anything."

My mother did not look at him.

She stood up from the stones, slowly, and she brushed the dust off her coat.

Then she turned to the bench and put both arms around the urn.

"Help me," she said.

It was Dale who came first.

He stooped and slid his big hands under the bronze, beside hers.

Bram came next. He took the base with both palms.

Then the woman from the line took the lid, and the boy with the cast set his good hand on the side.

My father stood where he was.

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