A Poignant Farewell

Michael Bayliss stepped out of the comforting warmth of his terraced house and into the frigid air of the November night. He breathed deeply, feeling the icy air flood his lungs and fog his breath.

His granddad’s medication would ensure that he slept until dawn, but he checked his pocket for his phone just in case. He wouldn’t be going far and could return quickly if required.

The village streets were deserted as he knew they would be. Freshly fed families would be bedding down for the evening TV, curtains closed tight against the winter chill.

Michael hurried, eager to generate a little body heat. The bridle path lay just beyond the village hall, closed to the casual trespasser by an easily raised metal barrier. Michael ducked beneath the barrier and was soon enveloped in darkness. The bench, his bench, lay just beyond the reach of the village lights, close enough for the warm orange glow to bathe the cobbles beneath his feet, but far enough away to leave him in splendid isolation.

This was his favourite place. The place where, in daylight, he could gaze across farmer Gibson’s barren fields as far as the river, but it was hidden from him now. Michael liked the darkness. He could think more clearly in the dark, his senses unassailed by the sights and sounds of the day.

As he approached the bench, Michael could see someone sitting there. That was unusual. People rarely sat on that bench, and certainly not at night. As he got closer, he could see it was a woman. Early twenties maybe, roughly the same age as himself, but what really got Michael was her attire. She wore nothing but a thin, off the shoulder summer dress, and she sat erect on the bench, her hands in her lap, and stared straight ahead into the darkness. If she heard him approach, she gave no sign.

Disappointed that his bench was occupied, Michael briefly considered walking past and following the trail to the woodland beyond, but that was a little further than he wanted to go, and he knew that his conscience would never allow him to ignore this girl dressed as she was.

“Hi,” he began. “Are you okay? It’s freezing tonight. You should wear a coat.”

She turned her head and smiled. “I’m waiting for someone and I’m not cold at all. But thank you for asking. You’re Michael, aren’t you?”

Michael was taken aback. She did look familiar, but he really couldn’t place her. “Yeah. Have we met? Are you from the village?”

She chuckled softly. “No, I’m not from the village, but we have met. How’s your grandfather?”

God, where to begin? Michael took a deep breath. “I guess you know he has cancer, right?”

She nodded. “Tell me the story.”

Not knowing how much she already knew, Michael started at the beginning. “He’s been like a father to me. My mother killed herself when I was a baby, and my dad disappeared. They brought me up. Y’know him and my nan, Mary. They were brilliant. But when she died three years ago, he changed. He struggled to cope without her. They say time heals, but it didn’t for him. He didn’t laugh anymore. It was like he gave up. And then the cancer came. By the time the doctors had diagnosed it, it was too late; It was everywhere. They offered treatment, of course, but it was more to do with pain relief than anything else. And do you know what he did? He smiled. He actually wanted to die. Can you believe that? I wanted that man to live more than anything in the world, and all he wanted to do was leave me.”

The tears came then, blurring his vision and causing him to look away in embarrassment. “I love that man more than I love myself, and all I can do is watch him fade away. I`m really sorry. I know that you know a bit about this, but I shouldn’t dump this on you.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy to listen. It’s nice here, isn’t it?

“Yeah, I come here a lot,” said Michael. “I can really breathe out here away from the claustrophobia of the house, and all the unsaid things. It really helps.”

She turned to face Michael. “Your grandfather is lucky to have you. You’re a good man, Michael. A real credit to him.”

Michael glanced aside, embarrassed again. “Thanks. I feel pretty inadequate. I can wash and care for him, but I can’t actually help him. Even if I could, what would I do? Give him what he wants or try to save him? All I seem to do is stand there and bloody watch.”

She put a finger to her lips. “Shush now, someone’s coming.”

Fearing he was about to lose his newfound confidante, Michael glanced quickly up and down the path, but could see no sign. To his right was impenetrable darkness, and to his left the shimmering lights of the village.

Gradually a figure emerged. A shadow against the village lights, making its slow, careful way along the path.

“Grandad!” called Michael, leaping to his feet. “What the hell are you doing here? It’s freezing. You need to get indoors. I’ll get- “Albert Bayliss raised a hand, stopping Michael in mid-sentence. “It’s okay, boy. I know it’s cold. You should do your scarf up a little tighter.”

Michael took a step back, unsure of how to proceed. It was his grandad alright, but he seemed stronger, more erect. He had colour in his cheeks and that old twinkle in his eyes that Michael hadn’t seen for years. Maybe the cold was giving him a boost.

They regarded each other for a while before Albert finally spoke. “Thanks, Michael; for everything. If it weren’t for you, the last few weeks would have been unbearable. But I think it’s over now. The pain’s gone. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I feel okay.”

 Albert smiled at the bemused look on Michael’s face. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Mike? I don’t need to open doors anymore.”

Michael stumbled backwards as realisation set in. “No, no, no! grandad no! You can’t be! You can’t be dead! My God! I can see you!”

Albert laughed. “I’m not dead, Mike, I’m free, and so are you. You can get on with the rest of your life. As for seeing me, your mother had the gift too. She went crazy with it, as you know. I hope she’s happy now. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

“Hello, Albert,” said a voice from the bench.

 A look of pure joy crossed Albert’s face, his eyes lighting up as the woman stood to greet him. “Mother? Mother, is that you? My God, Mother!”

“I`m here, my darling boy. How have you been?”

Albert shook his head sadly, his eyes filling with tears. “It’s been hard, mum. Really hard. Have you come for me?”

“I have,” she smiled. “I’ve come to take you to a wonderful place.”

“And Mary?”

“Waiting for you, as are many others.”

Albert sighed. “Then I think we should go.”

Albert and his mother embraced, and she took his hand.

Michael wiped away the tears that were blurring his vision, obscuring his last ever view of his grandad. “Thanks, for being here, y’know. For giving us the chance to say goodbye.”

The woman smiled. “I knew you would be able to see us, and it seemed the right thing to do. And you asked for me to be here, remember?”

“I did?”

“Yes,” she replied. “You should go now. There are things for you to do.”

Michael nodded sadly. “Goodbye, Grandad. I love you.”

“I love you too, boy,” replied Albert. “Until we meet again.”

Michael found that he couldn’t speak and could only nod in acknowledgement. Michael and his grandad shared a last lingering look, before Albert and his mother walked silently away into the darkness, and Michael found himself alone.

I asked her to be here? thought Michael. How could that possibly be?

And then he remembered. The one and only time he had ever prayed. That time when he found out that his grandad’s cancer was terminal. He had told God that if he had a Guardian Angel, to send it to his grandad, to take care of him, and help him cross over safely.

 But she couldn’t be. Could she?

 

                                                          The End