Love's Epitaph
By N.R. Gasan
[Author's preface: I've said many times it is my hope that Eli and Oskar stay together always. However, the writer in me asks the question, "What if?" To that end, I've written a short piece regarding a scenario different from what I would like. I guess we'll all find out definitively when JAL publishes " Let The Old Dreams Die." Until then, it's anyone's game. :)]
The cemetery was quiet, as one would expect at two o'clock in the morning. And it was as dark as to be expected. But the child had no problem seeing the headstone; vampires see quite well in the dark. Elias sat cross-legged on the short grass of the plot; he had been sitting almost motionless for over an hour. Except for when he first saw it, briefly, to identify the right grave, he could not bear to see the name engraved on the smooth white marble. He stared at the base of the marker instead, occasionally looking off to the left or right, taking in the landscape of the graveyard. It seemed pleasant this place, a peaceful place, a fitting place.
A gust of wind suddenly blew and Elias closed his eyes, tilting back his head and feeling the breeze ruffle his longish dark hair. Even though he was passing as a boy these days he didn't like to cut his hair too short; one never knew when it might be necessary to begin passing as a girl. As the wind stilled, Elias drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes, looked directly at the stone in front of him. There it was. The word made flesh...or stone in this case: OSKAR ERIKSSON. Memories nurtured over the years became almost real enough to touch, and Elias felt his throat begin to tighten. Oskar his friend. Oskar who had known him as Eli, had known him first as a girl. Passing either as a boy or a girl was a matter of convenience to Elias; having been castrated long ago, Elias was essentially genderless (not to mention no longer human). But neither had mattered to Oskar. In the time they were together, both in Blackeberg and as traveling companions, Eli could not have asked for a more devoted and loving friend.
Footsteps approached, quiet footsteps made lightly by small feet. Elias did not turn, was not alarmed. After more than two years, Kayla's steps were very familiar to Elias' keen ears. As she strode up to Elias, he moved over slightly and at an angle to make room for her. Kayla sat down, also crossing her legs, with Elias to the left of her and the headstone to the right.
"I was beginning to get concerned," Kayla said softly. Like Elias, she looked to be about twelve years old, although she was a lot closer to it that he was.
Elias didn't trust himself to speak at the moment, so he just nodded, staring at the headstone. Kayla looked from him to the stone, reading the inscriptions, the name and the dates to herself. Elias had mentioned Oskar a number of times, but never went into detail.
"He was eighty-nine," Kayla remarked. "He lived a long life." Kayla looked back at Elias, and as he looked back at her Kayla could see tears forming. Kayla knew Elias hated appearing weak; she had only seen him cry a few times. But now Kayla opened her arms to him and Elias lay down with his head in her lap, facing the stone, grateful for her understanding. As he hugged her leg, Elias began to weep in earnest, letting go completely, his slight body shuddering, his sobs carrying across the deserted cemetery.
Kayla ached for him. She knew this Oskar had been important to him by the way Elias didn't talk about him. "It's okay," Kayla said soothingly as she hugged him and stroked his hair awkwardly. "It's alright...You loved him...Let it come out." She repeated this litany for what seemed like a long time. Finally, his sobs began to quiet. When they had ceased completely, Kayla asked, "Will you tell me about him?"
For a long minute or so, Elias was quiet. Then he said, "He was my friend. Except for you, he was the only real friend that I've had in three hundred years."
"Wow."
Elias sat up. He took out a handkerchief and used it; he had brought several, knowing that he was probably going to need them.
"How long did you travel together?"
"Only a few years. They were mostly good years." Elias smiled. "I laughed a lot."
"You laugh a lot now," Kayla added with a smile of her own.
Elias nodded. Then the smile faded. "He wanted to stay with me, but he just couldn't bring himself to..." His voice trailed off.
Kayla brushed back her long blond hair. "I guess it was different when you asked me. I figured anything was better than my house." Kayla thought of her life before meeting Elias, the times her father climbed into her bed, his hands exploring her slim body, the way he--
She pushed the thought away, replacing it with the memory of what she and Elias had done after Kayla had excepted Elias' offer. They had fed well that night.
Elias looked steadily at her. He understood her pain better than most would have. He earnestly wanted to reassure her that his love for Oskar should in no way make her feel threatened, nor that she was somehow second best.
"After we parted, when I knew he was safely home again, I didn't see him for a long time. I made myself stay away. But I couldn't let go entirely." He felt the tears coming again. "I'd come back to Blackeberg from time to time. When I found him...I'd watch him from a distance...He never saw me." He paused, lest the tears take over; he wiped them away. "My visits to Blackeberg became fewer and fewer. It was hard to see him get older. He didn't look like my Oskar anymore. But in my heart he always was." He paused to wipe the tears again. Kayla reached over and took his hand.
"Finally, I didn't come at all anymore. I used the Internet...I knew he was getting old...It was just a matter of time...And then..." He stopped.
"You saw it," Kayla finished.
Oskar's obituary was courtesy of the local paper's online counterpart, served up by the website's search engine. He had died of natural causes back in February, but Elias had not done a search until about three weeks ago. Now it was well into summer.
Elias had not wanted to come, not at first. He tried to tell himself that what was past was past. But he finally admitted to himself that he had to come. He needed to say a final good-bye. Oskar deserved nothing less.
After holding hands for a time, Elias let go and got to his knees. He reached into his light jacket and took out a folded sheet of paper, yellowed with age and worn from handling. Shortly after they first met, in a time long before cell phones and chat rooms, Oskar had written out Morse code on this paper. They had used this code to tap out messages to each other on the common bedroom wall of their respective apartments. Elias had shown this paper to Kayla only yesterday. As she looked at the dots and dashes, now barely discernable, Elias had told her of his intentions.
The paper was folded in quarters. As Elias opened it up to half-folded, Kayla asked, "Are you sure you want to leave it?"
Elias nodded. "Yes."
As he placed the paper against the base of the headstone, the letters freshly written on the back of the page stood out plainly: DEAREST FRIEND.
From his jacket, he also removed a small, multi-colored cube. This puzzle had been all the rage when it was new, back when Oskar had first lent it to Eli. And now, like its previous owner, it was time for the cube to come home. To rest.
Elias slowly placed to cube against the base of the paper, pressing it against the headstone. He knew the tribute wouldn't last; the paper would blow away, the cube would be taken or discarded. But nothing ever lasted. And sometimes, it really was the thought that counted.
Elias got to his feet and reached down to Kayla. She took his hand and he helped her up. They held hands as they slowly walked away, into the shadows and whatever lay beyond.
END