Mark Tufo - The End Has Come and Gone

BT was nodding his head. “Mike, you have the hardest person of all to answer to,” he paused. “Yourself. I’ve never come across another person who tried so hard (and mostly succeeded) to do the right thing in every situation. Don’t worry about what the future may or may not hold, you did what you needed to do right now.”

“Thanks man,” I told him.

“You’re going to be all right, Mike,” he assured me.

I had my doubts, but I nodded at the appropriate time.

“Whenever you’re ready to roll, we’ll get going,” BT said.

“Do you believe in the eternal soul?” Mad Jack asked me curiously.

Where the hell he came from I wasn’t sure.

“I believe,” I told him, not sure if this was the conversation I wanted to have right now.

“Because if you don’t, then nothing could have been taken from you. I wish we had weighed you before and after Tomas bit you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked him testily.

“Well, I’ve read studies that the human soul has a tangibility to it. It can be measured and weighed on a scale.”

“Would that have confirmed anything for you?” I asked.

“Well, there could be a myriad of other factors. Loss of blood, passage of gas, a bug alighting from your body, wind pushing down.”

“So you wouldn’t have believed even with evidence,” I told him.

“I’m just saying it would have been interesting to say the least, and would have required more study.”

“Listen, I don’t really know you and I don’t want to have to test out just how hard I can hit right now.” He flinched. “So I’m going to be very specific. I’ve been there, twice as a matter of fact. It’s more real to me than this thing we call reality, and I would trade this life a thousand times to just stand in those fields once more.”

“Did you travel through a tunnel?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Studies have shown…”

“Get away from me,” I told him, which he thankfully did.

“Mike, I can’t tell you how bad I feel that we ever left you in the first place,” Paul said. Erin was nodding behind him.

All I wanted to do was go see my family. This was like running the gauntlet.

“Buddy, you just wanted to see your family. I completely understand that. And that’s exactly what I want to do,” as I pointed over towards mine.

He nodded.

I walked over to where Tracy and the kids were (including Henry). Henry looked up at me funny. He knew something was different, but at least he didn’t run away. I would have lost it if he had done that.

“You look like hell, Talbot,” Tracy said as she stroked my cheek. I bowed my face down lower, the human contact felt so warm.

Justin came over to give me a hug. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

He had had a taste of what I was in for and felt deeply for it. Like I needed any more reasons to love my kids.

“How’s it feel Dad?” Travis asked.

“Empty, son, empty.’

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO – Talbot Journal Entry 17

Final Note

When we began our journey back towards Maine, it was without Alex and his family. I could not believe April did not want to stay with Mad Jack, but apparently I was a bigger repelling force than he was an attraction. And the biggest surprise was Joann and Eddy. I’m pretty sure Eddy wanted to come with us, but at eight years old his vote did not count in this matter.

EPILOGUES

On the Road to find Paul and Alex

After a few hours on the road we finally holed up for the night. Gary is a wonderful orator. While getting ready for bed, he decided to share this gem. Why now, I’m not sure, maybe just to point out that the natural world has always been a part of the supernatural.

“Did I ever tell you the story about the Keenagh family in New Orleans?” he asked.

“Do I know them?” I asked.

“I doubt it.”

“Is this scary, because I don’t need anything else to lose sleep over at night,” I warned him.

“It’s not really scary. It just makes you think.”

“So, is it a true story?”

“Supposedly.”

“Okay, tell me it. But if it’s scary, we’ll be sharing your sleeping bag.”

“But mine isn’t big enough,” he answered seriously.

“Then be careful with your story selection.”

“Most people would be fine. You, I’m not so sure. So, there’s this family down in New Orleans, the Keenaghs. They live in this small town right on the beach year round. There’s a father, mother, and two young sons, Robbie and Sammie. It’s mostly a tourist town, the majority of visitors come during the winter months and stay in rental cottages.”

“Not scary so far,” I told Gary, settling in for the rest.

“See, I told you. So all these families come for vacation and there are three other families in particular that also have little kids. The Keenaghs have a little boat they named the Sparrow, which they take out and just let everyone have a good time on. So these three families with their kids, Tabitha, David and Donnie become fast friends with the Keenagh’s kids. Year after year, they come and spend the same two-week period together going out on this boat, fishing and swimming and just making memories. For Robbie’s twelfth birthday, his dad gives him the Sparrow. Robbie cannot believe it. He loves that boat, he and his friends damn near live on it during the summer. After another five years of hanging out, the kids who are all about fifteen to seventeen years old now realize that they are just about coming to the end of these trips with their families. They do what just about every kid does, they make pacts that they will still get together in the years to come. And like the vast majority of pacts, they never materialize. Two of the kids go off to college, one goes in the military and the other two just go on with their lives, but they always remember the great summers together.”

“Sounds good so far.”

“Well, about ten years go by and the older Keenagh brother lives in New York now, I think he’s an investment broker or something like that. He’s heading home from work one night and this guy robs him and stabs him to death for $35.”

“That’s screwed up, getting killed for $35.”

Gary shrugged his shoulders in acknowledgement. “I know, some people have gotten killed for less. Anyway, so that same night Rob gets stabbed and died, the Sparrow slipped its moorings. After they bring Rob’s body home and get him buried, the family spends the next week searching for their lost boat. They even asked the Coast Guard if they could keep a look out for it. The Sparrow had become Rob’s pride and joy in those long ago summers, and Mrs. Keenagh, I think her name was Luci, couldn’t stand that this remembrance of her son was now also gone. She used to be able to look out her kitchen window every morning and smile looking down on the small boat. Rob’s first words every time he called home were, ‘How’s she doing?’ Luci couldn’t even look out the window any more, the loss of the boat a constant reminder of the loss of her son.”

“Man, that sucks,” I said honestly, “Who needs that kind of reminder?”

“I know,” Gary said. “So a few more years go by and the younger brother Sam is home visiting his folks for the holidays. He’s out on the front porch sitting in a big rocking chair having a cold beer.”