The next day, Casimir came to the airport with me to say goodbye. Rain drizzled lightly on this damp morning, but the sun still managed to shine through the clouds. We sat in the airport lounge, waiting for my flight to be called. Casimir shivered in his maroon parka, even though he wore a sweater underneath.              

Presently, he reached into his pocket and took out a small, flat, rectangular box. “Here,” he said. “This is for you. Something to remember me by.” He smiled mysteriously as he placed it in the palm of my hand.            

“Thank you,” I cooed. “In all my born days, I’ve never met a boy as sweet as you.”           

“That’s how my mother raised me,” Casimir replied breezily. He cleared his throat and added, “Just promise not to open it ‘till you get on the plane. Save the surprise.”            “Alright,” I agreed, eyeing the box curiously.           

Casimir and I held hands, never wanting to let go. The best things really did come in small packages.           

 Ms. Ledezma looked up from the magazine she was reading. “Well, Essie, it’s a pity to see you go. It was wonderful to have you at the Chrysanthemum residence this summer. May you have a safe trip home and… you are welcome to come back another time. God bless you,” she said. Her words were somewhat nonchalant, but they were sincere nevertheless. I smiled.           

“Essie,” Casimir murmured.            “Yes?”           

“Now, you’re going to be reconnecting with your dad. Or, rather, coming back after a long time apart. And, I’ve decided that…maybe I should try to talk to my father. I mean, what do I have to lose? If he still ignores me, then at least I’ll know I tried. I just think that there’s no sense in letting any more time slip away without communicating with my dad. It feels like…I simply have to talk to him sooner or later.

“I don’t want to mope around the house anymore. I want to live my life and reach out. I believe…it’s never too late. There’s another chance. Life can be kind sometimes. And God is good all the time. We just have to realize it, right?” Casimir considered.  

 I nodded. My hands trembled with excitement, and my stomach was doing flip-flops. “Just to think that I’ll be seeing Daddy soon, after a mini forever! I can’t wait!” I declared.

“What did you miss the most about him?” Casimir inquired.

I thought about this for a moment.

“I missed the way he laughs; it’s such a lilting, happy sound. And how his voice rings out proud and true, like bells ringing at a high pitch. His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he knows how to make everyone feel special.”

 

Casimir tried to imagine my description in his mind. I had a feeling that the closest person he could fathom was his mother.

“I just want you to know something. I really admire the way you always stay true to the people you care about, and how you never let go of hope. And… no matter what happens, you can always talk to me. About anything,” he told me.“Except for…um, girl stuff.  I wouldn’t be able to offer much advice in that area,” he added awkwardly, his face reddening.

I hoped Ms. Ledezma wasn’t listening.

“Don’t worry, I have January and her mother and McKenna to talk to,” I assured him. And, if absolutely necessary, my dad, I thought.

 

“That’s good,” he replied. Then, he quickly changed the subject.

“I start lessons again with my tutor tomorrow. I’ve done some schoolwork over the summer. I mean, the material that I’m learning is interesting and all, and sometimes I get ahead. The whole homeschooling thing is okay, and even convenient, but after a while, it feels like I’m missing out on something. What’s it like, going to school?” he asked me.

 

“Well, the truth is, I love school. It’s even pretty fun. There’s classes like art and music, and when you get to middle school, you begin to switch classes and have a different teacher for each subject. Or, at least, that’s how it is at my school, in the U.S. And one of the greatest parts about going to school is making friends. That’s a large reason why people like school so much,” I explained. Though things sort of went downhill for me last year, I mused.

 

If Casimir ever did decide to go to school, I knew that he would soar academically. After all, he was always reading; even textbooks sometimes. And he spoke and acted with more intelligence and maturity than most high school kids did. But I wasn’t completely sure how he would be socially. He had never gone to school for the whole year before, and he didn’t interact with many people his own age. Still, how couldn’t Casimir make friends?  He was one of those people who was impossible not to like. He had a charming nature, in addition to being quite articulate. So as long as Casimir put his mind to making friends, he would.

 

Ms. Ledezma looked at her watch. “The plane is a bit late today,” she commented. But I was glad to have more time to talk to Casimir.After a bit more quiet chatter about school and friends, I realized there was something that I had to say to Casimir before I left. 

“No matter what happens, I can always talk to you,” I repeated.

Casimir nodded. “True as always.”

I took a deep breath. “Casimir,” I said solemnly, “can you promise me something?”

 

“Sure. What is it?”

My voice became a whisper. “Will you wait for me?”

He contemplated my question, seeming to grasp its meaning. Even so, neither of us could explain in words exactly what it meant. We understood in our hearts, which was the important part.

“I’ll wait for you ‘till the end of time,” he said finally.

 

“And I’ll wait for you, too. Because I’ll always know that you’ll be coming back,” I responded.

 

Just then, the agent’s voice spoke over the intercom. “Flight 16 to the Midwestern United States, now boarding.”

I clutched my suitcase in my hand and the little package in the other. Tears were already forming in my eyes, not to my surprise. Casimir offered me his handkerchief. I continued to cry, but these were happy tears. I was leaving someone I fell in love with, and returning to a loved one.

 

Casimir and I hugged tightly, and I made the memory last as long as I could. I didn’t want to pull away from our warm embrace, and I noticed that my shirt was wet from his tears, too.

“Even though we’ll be miles apart, we’ll always be under the same sky,” I whispered in his ear.

He kissed me on the cheek, and I did the same for him.

 

“Goodbye, Essie. I love you!” he blurted out.

My flight was announced again over the loudspeaker.

“I love you, too!” I said, hugging him one last time.

 

“So, you’ll wait for me? ‘Till the rainbow’s end?” I asked once more.

 

“ ‘Till the rainbow’s end,” Casimir replied earnestly. And there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he meant those words with all of his heart.  

 

 

 

As I walked through the departure gate and got on the plane, the excitement of seeing Daddy washed over me again. My palms were sweaty, and I was almost hyperventilating. This was it! In a matter of hours, I would be coming home.

I sat back in my seat, trying to be cool, calm, and collected. I still held the little box in my hands, and I attempted to relish the surprise by prolonging my opening it. It felt as light as a feather, and I wanted to know now more than ever what was inside.

Finally, my curiosity got the better of me, and I could take the suspense no longer. Slowly, I pulled the lid off of the simple blue box. When I saw what was inside, I smiled knowingly. There was but a single note, written on an index card in Casimir’s handwriting.

 

Open the locket.             

I did just this, and I stared at the opened golden heart. Adjacent to the photo of my father and I was an image of me and Casimir. He had his arm around me, and we were both smiling brightly. Now, there was completion, and the heart shined with luster.

My Casimir, I thought. My love.            

My heart soared as the plane lifted off the ground, and for the rest of the way home, I felt as light as the little box itself. Sometime later, I dozed off.

I woke up to the voice of the flight attendant reporting, “We will be arriving in one hour. One hour.”

My heart pounded like a bass drum.

 

After what felt like eons, the plane arrived at its destination. I sprung out of my seat and promptly exited the aircraft. I made my way through the crowds of people, their boisterous conversations buzzing all around me.

When I entered the lobby, I heard the familiar voice that I could recognize anywhere.           

“Essie!” Dad exclaimed, waving to me fervently. At last, I spotted him, and our eyes met. I jubilantly jumped into his arms, and he spun me around and around, just like the old days.

There were even more tears this time. I squealed with delight, sounding like a little girl. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. That didn’t matter though, because Daddy did most of the talking; right away going on about how much he missed me.

“Oh, Essie, I’m so ecstatic that you’re home! This summer has been…really different, and…it felt like a missing puzzle piece without you here. But now…everything is right again. Because we’re together. And that’s what matters most.” He kissed me on the forehead and wiped his eyes.

All I could say was, “I love you, Daddy. I don’t know where to begin or where to end, but I know how I feel. Life has been so…exhilarating, plus many other things. Wonderful.” And I knew it was true. My face was flushed from the tears of joy and excitement.

 

My father and I left the airport, side by side. He looked at me and said, “Tell me all about it.”

 

“You first,” I replied solemnly. I stared at Dad intently, a look of understanding passing between the two of us. He nodded thoughtfully, and had a serious yet serene expression on his face.

 

Was it just my imagination, or was he aging? How much had I missed while I was away? I felt like Rip Van Winkle, falling asleep for a hundred years and waking up to find out that everything had changed.

But Dad’s spirit was still the same. His familiar smile and his big bear hug were enough to reassure me that this was truly Daddy.

 

 

As we got into the car, he turned to me and said, “Well, I never knew that coming to terms with myself could be so liberating.”

“So, does this mean,” I began slowly, “that things are going to change for the better?”

 

He thought about my vague question before answering an affirmative, “Yes.”

Dad cleared his throat. “Especially if we make the best of this,” he added matter-of-factly.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing that therapists have an oath of confidence,” I commented lightly. He nodded in agreement.

 

“What else have you really been up to this summer? Now that we’re face to face, you can certainly tell me,” I continued. I wasn’t angry, but very curious.

In a sense, it was almost as if we were playing a sort of game right then and there; seeing who could hold their breath the longest. Except instead of wanting the other to give in, we wanted ourselves to give in and breathe.

But as much as I wanted to tell my father all about my summer (minus the part about getting a “boyfriend”), I couldn’t for some inexplicable reason. He had to do the talking.

 

“All the things I told you about before. I went to a teaching convention in Indianapolis, and I taught some classes at the college. And…I saw Arthur Chrysanthemum over the summer,” Dad confessed.

My eyes widened, and I jolted slightly. “What?! You never told me that! When? Where?” I wanted to know.

 

“Around the beginning of July. We’ve written to each other this summer, and I told him I was going to the teaching convention. Then, he flew into Indianapolis to surprise me. I haven’t seen him in ages! We caught up and reminisced on old times, and hung out during the convention. It felt like we could talk forever. You know, Essie, he’s a good person, but…a very sad one. He misses his wife more than ever,” Dad explained.

 

“And Casimir misses his mother too,” I mumbled. 

“Arthur told me that he’s unable to let go, and that even if he was capable of doing so, he still doesn’t think he would. One, because he’s afraid that if he tries to move on, she’ll slip away from him completely. He couldn’t bear losing all the memories of her. And two, because…he’s not really willing to open his heart to love anymore. Arthur said that losing once is excruciating enough, and losing twice would be the death of him. Sometimes, people get so trapped in despair that they can’t set themselves free on their own. That’s when they must turn to God for the strength to move forward. It’s the only way to truly heal,” Daddy continued.

 

 

My father still had his beautiful soul. I smiled gratefully. I was intrigued by what he told me, though I felt a flicker of pity for Mr. Chrysanthemum. I didn’t know much about him, aside from what my father and Casimir had told me, but I got the impression that he was depressed. Perhaps he had been born that way, for Casimir said that his father had never really been happy until he met Carlena Leigh.

 

 

I had heard the term ‘clinical depression’ before, and it was defined as a chemical imbalance in someone’s brain. I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I knew that depression was a long period of constant sadness.

I realized that life must be extremely hard for anyone with permanent depression. I couldn’t fully imagine what it would feel like to never experience happiness or joy, but I reckoned that Casimir and his father knew. The hardest point in my life had consisted of a great deal of pain and despondency, but it didn’t last forever.

 

At the same time, I was a bit angry at Mr. Chrysanthemum. How could he choose to spend time with my father over his own son? Did he know how much it was hurting Casimir; what with not having a parental figure in his life? It broke my heart to see the one I loved and cared about suffer because of another’s grief and sorrows.

 

My dad looked a bit regretful for talking about Mr. Chrysanthemum. “We don’t have to talk about this. It’s nothing you need to worry about. C’mon, I’m dying to hear about your summer. How was camp?”

 

 

“Dad, I like that you’re being honest with me, okay? It’ll be easier for me to let you into my life if you’re willing to let me into yours. I just…want to understand you better, in a sense. That’s what we need.”

 

“Okay,” Daddy sighed. “Anyways, he said that he was glad to have someone to talk to. I told him that I know how it feels to lose a loved one. When my mother died of cancer, I thought I would never heal. It was one of the hardest times in my life, and coping seemed impossible. But then I realized that it was her time, and God needed another angel. When somebody dies, they aren’t gone forever. They just came home eternally.

“Arthur really needs a friend right now. Though we’ve only seen each other in person a few times, he’s like a brother to me. And…he doesn’t judge people. I feel as though I can be myself around him. Well, sort of. Besides you, Essie, I haven’t really felt close to anyone in a long time. I guess this just goes to show that everyone’s a blessing to someone.”

 

 

“Did you ever meet his wife, Carlena Leigh?” I inquired.

 

My father nodded. “Yes, back in ’71, I believe it was. They had gotten married the year before, and they were truly in love. I only met Carlena Leigh briefly, but she was a wonderful lady.  It was her idea to come to the teaching convention in the first place, since she wanted to be a schoolteacher.”   

“Does Arthur know… that you’re gay? Have you told him?” I couldn’t help but ask. It felt strange to say those words.

 

Dad shook his head and chuckled. “No, honey. You’re the only person who I’ve told flat-out. I wouldn’t go around telling other people before I admitted the truth to you. Besides, if I ever do tell him, or if he ever finds out, then…I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

“I’m not officially out of the closet yet, and I don’t think I will be for a long time. But it is as if I’ve found a light and turned it on. So I am no longer stumbling in the darkness, and I’ve discovered the door. Now, it’s all a matter of turning the knob,” he told me.

 

“Interesting similes and metaphors,” I commented.  

“Right now, I know and you know. That’s what counts. And we can talk about it, if you want. I’ve been much too evasive about the matter over the years,” Daddy said.

 

“But honestly, Dad, did you really think that I wouldn’t realize it sooner or later?” I asked.

 

He sighed and shook his head. “Nothing gets by you.” He smiled sadly and continued, “The truth is, though, I don’t think you were the only one to pick up on it.”

 

 

We made a right turn and drove into Pleasantville Town Square, and several stores dotted the left side of the avenue. There was Clover’s Crafts and Berna’s Book Store, as well as a drugstore, post office, and café. When I gazed upon my familiar surroundings, it was as if I were seeing them with new eyes.

Our neighbor, an elderly woman named Miss Herkenham, was out walking her Maltese. When she saw us, she waved.

 

 

 

“Welcome home, Essie Miracle!” Daddy said, grinning broadly.

“How is everybody?” I asked. “Can I say hi to January and her family later?”

 

“Sure, sure. January can’t wait to see you. She said to me, ‘The school year won’t fully begin until Essie comes back.’ But there’s no rush. Don’t you want to get settled first?”

 

“Yeah,” I replied. “How far into the school year is it?”

 

“Only a few weeks. Don’t worry, Essie, you definitely won’t have trouble catching up. I bet you could even skip 6th grade and go right to 7th. It’s an understatement to say that you’re bright for your age.”

 

 

“Dad, I just want to get through this week. Skipping grades is the last thing on my mind. Besides, all the seventh graders would tower over me,” I replied.

 

Daddy laughed. “Very true. But you’ll always be my little girl, even if you have a growth spurt.”

 

We pulled up to our driveway, and Daddy took my suitcase out of the backseat.

As I reached the front porch, I spotted a paper crane on the top step. On the left wing was a message written in small, neat letters.

Essie,

By spreading your wings, you’ve landed home gracefully.

January.  

I picked up the bird and brought it inside. For a moment, I just stood in the foyer, beaming. “Home at last,” I whispered.

The house looked exactly the same as it did before I left. I spotted some photos of Daddy and me, as well as the crisp cranberry wallpaper which had been in the living room for as long as I could remember.

 

Dad put his arms around me and encircled me into another hug.

He began to hum quietly, and murmured, “Now, it’s your turn. Tell me about your summer.”

 

And so I talked about camp, and tried to educe the positive aspects of it. “I did lots of neat projects, and it was a great experience,” I told him.

This wasn’t really a lie. If I had to live my life all over again, I still would’ve attended TLBIDCCG.

But when Dad asked me if I had made any new friends, I could only name one.

I expounded the progression of our friendship; such as meeting him for the first time and stargazing together, but I didn’t tell the half of it. I didn’t say that he was my first boyfriend, or that he gave me my first kiss.

And I did not tell my father that Casimir was a virtual part of my heart now. I had a feeling that it would be too much for Daddy to bear if he knew that his little girl was growing up.   

“So you two are really close,” he concluded, studying my face carefully.

What did he expect to find? Though I had a whimsical imagination, I was never one to make up lies. Dad always said that he admired the fact that I was honest and trustworthy, which made it easier for him to trust me in ways that other parents wouldn’t.

Nevertheless, being the overprotective parent he was, Daddy wouldn’t let me travel past Town Square or the meadows by myself, and I had to tell him whenever I left the house. On school nights, I couldn’t go out until all of my homework was finished, and I had to be back before dark. On many an occasion, I deemed these rules to be silly, since streetlights were everywhere one turned, and Pleasantville was one of the safest towns in Indiana.

Also, when I was younger, Dad told me that if I ever fell in love with a boy, or one started to like me as more than a friend, then I had to be very careful and wary.

“Honey, it’s not that I wouldn’t trust you, but I wouldn’t trust the boy. The male species is… quite a peculiar breed indeed. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not exactly bad or evil. But when boys get to a certain age, they…well, you can’t really trust them. Let’s just put it that way for now. Still, no matter what, the male that you can always depend on is your Daddy.” 

Now, I realized that my father was merely curious about my friendship. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and furrowed his brow. “I still don’t know why Arthur never mentioned him. How can someone never say a word about their kid?” he wondered aloud.

“Dad, not every parent is as doting as you,” I said. “Maybe not everyone’s child is the center of their world. I mean, Casimir and his dad aren’t exactly what you’d call ‘close’,” I continued. My mouth felt dry, and I felt like crying again, but this time for a different reason.

“That’s too bad,” Dad replied sympathetically.

Then, I remembered another thing that I hadn’t told Daddy. I didn’t tell him about the time I found Casimir sick and delirious on the bathroom floor.

I knew there were some secrets that one had to tell, if it was something which endangered the health and well-being of another.

But then again, I was pretty sure that adults knew about Casimir’s almost refusal to eat, his purposeful throwing up, his past cutting, and his depression. Whether or not his father knew was a different story.

“Well, Casimir has some problems. He’s depressed like his dad,” I admitted. “I really worry about him sometimes. He seems to have gotten better, but…he still feels empty inside…” I began to cry relentlessly; the loud sobs unable to be stifled.

Dad held me close and patted my shoulder, letting me release my sorrows and sadness. He knew that the best thing he could do now was listen.

Through passionate tears, I continued, “Daddy, that’s something that I’ll always think about, in the back of my mind. Because I’ve realized that below the surface, things aren’t always what they seem…and sometimes people have trouble dealing with life…So it’s really, really hard watching somebody you care about suffer painfully and know that there’s nothing you can do to completely take that pain away.

“I’ve witnessed this twice already…and I’m afraid. Afraid for the people who suffer internally, and afraid that pain will become, or has become, a ceaseless circle of misery. So now you know how my summer went. It was great. Some of the best days of my life. It felt like an unnoticed dream come true, but also a serious wake-up call.” 

“Oh, honey,” my father whispered. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve— ”

“No, Dad. He should be sorry. He should’ve. He should’ve been there for his son, instead of pretending that he didn’t exist. He should’ve taken responsibility as a parent, instead of come crying to you with all of his problems. Okay?

“I understand that Arthur Chrysanthemum misses his wife, and I understand the fact that it’s hard for some people to let go, because a person doesn’t stop grieving overnight. But losing his mother hurt Casimir every bit as much as it hurt Mr. Chrysanthemum to lose his wife. Casimir was five when she died. That may seem young, but believe me, he still remembers her. His memory stretches back pretty far. And sometimes, that’s all a person has left. Memories,” I said firmly.  

“Essie, you’re right. I understand where you’re coming from. But there still must be a reason why Arthur said nothing about Casimir. I don’t want to lose trust in anyone, or judge a person without knowing all the details. And technically, it is Arthur’s business about whether or not he wants to talk about his son. But the question is, why? “If you had told me about Casimir when Arthur visited me over the summer, then I could’ve mentioned how you two had become close friends. But when you first told me about Casimir over the phone, Arthur was in Spain. I didn’t want to sound nosy, so I brushed it off. I didn’t think…I guess…I didn’t know. But it sounds like the distant relationship between father and son is hurting Casimir immensely. And because of this, Arthur is suffering as well,” Daddy reasoned.

“The thing is, Casimir really wants to connect with his dad. He wants to talk to him, and have a parental figure in his life. Because in spite of everything, despite the fact that Arthur hardly ever sees his son, Casimir still loves him,” I said confidently. 

“Do you think I should talk to Arthur about it?” Dad asked. “If people have problems, then they need to be addressed. Sometimes it takes another person to intercede.”

“Yeah, I think so,” I replied.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, honey.”

“Do you think life would be easier if people didn’t have so many secrets? If everyone was open and honest, and didn’t hide their feelings?” I inquired.

“Maybe. Especially if everyone’s reactions to the truth were understanding and open-minded. Then everyone could know that I was homosexual, and I would feel like I could truly be me.  More importantly, I reckon things might be easier for Casimir and his dad. Then they would be able to speak their minds, and Casimir could tell Arthur what he was going through.

“I know that Casimir is your friend, but please, try not to have hard feelings towards Mr. Chrysanthemum. I mean, I’m kind of upset with the fact that he doesn’t reach out to his son. But even so, sometimes people are doing the best they can, even if we don’t always realize it,” Daddy responded softly.

“And maybe their best just isn’t very good,” I muttered.

“I think Arthur is a good, sincere person though. Still, it’s a shame that he doesn’t show Casimir that he loves him,” Dad said. I nodded.

“In life, we’re supposed to learn from our own mistakes. I also deem that we’re meant to learn from the mistakes of others, and others are meant to learn from our mistakes. So I think I should tell Arthur that one should never let their own insecurities, pain, and brokenness keep them from embracing the people they love—like their kid,” he finished.

“Dad, did you see a shrink, or become one while I was away?” I smiled.

“What can I say? I’m still your dear old dad!”

I laughed. Daddy was actually pretty young; only about 37. “I haven’t forgotten that,” I murmured.

Right then and there, sitting next to my dad on the sofa, I knew that there was one less thing that I had to worry about; one more reason to be happy.

So many questions, I mused. But hopefully, so many answers to come.

Moreover, I couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would hold; in this quaint little town I called my home.

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Author Guidance for This Story

This man saw the slight discolouration just before his eyes closed in slumber, when he woke.

excerpt from The Blood Codex   by Imagenius53