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    Graeme
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Heart of The Tree - 27. Part III - The Heart Revealed. Chapter 25

Rhys was seated at the kitchen table, his forehead wrinkled as he worried over the job in front of him. His housemates had left him the responsibility of organising the food for the housewarming party, and he was making a list in an effort to avoid going over budget.

He was considering the various options for hot food, while keeping in mind the small oven they would have to work with, when his phone rang. He answered it without looking.

“Hi.” Rhys gave only part of his attention to the phone while he scanned his shopping list.

“Rhys, it’s Dad. Do you know where Mia is?”

Rhys’s attention snapped to the phone call. His father rarely rang him, and had never asked for any of his friends. “She’s here somewhere. Just a sec and I’ll go get her.”

“No, wait. Where are you?”

“I’m at the house.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Make sure Mia doesn’t go out.”

“Dad, what is....” Rhys stopped when he heard his father hang up.

Rhys stared at the piece of paper in front of him but he had lost interest in the task. Something odd was going on and he was worried. He knew his dad shouldn’t be in Dubbo and he shouldn’t be asking for Mia.

Rhys rose to his feet and trudged down to Mia’s room. He knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Mia called out.

“Mia, it’s me. My dad just called and he’s going to be here soon. He wants to see you, I think.”

The door opened. Mia stood there, eyes open wide. “Me? What’s it about?”

“I don’t know. He just said to make sure you don’t leave, and then hung up.”

Mark appeared from his room. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Mia looked at the two guys while gnawing on her lower lip. “What do you think has happened?”

Rhys pulled her into a hug. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine. It’s probably something you left behind yesterday and my dad’s just dropping it off.”

Rhys didn’t think he was fooling anyone with that lame idea, but no one said anything. They all headed to the living room. Rhys slipped away from Mia as Mark took up position next to her and placed a comforting arm across her shoulders.

They found Matt and Vince intertwined on the couch. Rhys would normally have teased them, but he didn’t feel like it.

Vince’s initial guilty expression changed to one of concern when he sensed the sombre mood. “What’s going on?” he asked. He rose to his feet and was joined seconds later by Matt.

“Dad’s on his way here. He didn’t say why.”

Mia slipped away from Mark and rushed over to put her arms around Vince. Surprised, it took him a moment before he returned the embrace. It had been a few months since they had last hugged – something they normally only did when one of them was extremely upset.

“When’s he getting here?” Matt asked.

“In fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen! That means he’s in Dubbo already,” Vince said, still holding Mia. Mark moved up next to them.

“Yeah.” Silence followed Rhys’s statement. Vince manoeuvred Mia into sitting down. Mark took over holding her close. Her pale face was contrasted by her long black hair. She looked like she was expecting the worst, but no one seemed to know what that would be.

Rhys was pacing in front of the window when he spotted the police car pulling up outside. He raced to the front door and opened it before his dad was out of the car. He ran outside and then staggered to a stop on the porch. His father’s face was grim. “Dad?”

“Hi, Rhys. Is Mia still home?”

Rhys waved towards the front door as Mia appeared, with the rest of guys standing behind her. “What’s going on, Dad?”

Senior Sergeant Dresdan started to put on his hat, but stuck it under his left arm, instead. He opened his mouth and then shook his head as if he had changed his mind. “Let’s go inside.”

Once the door was closed behind them, Ernest Dresdan took a big breath. “Mia, I’m sorry, but I’ve just come from escorting the ambulance to the hospital. It’s your grandmother, and it doesn’t look good.”

“Aunt Cynthia!” Mia’s hands were shaking as they covered her mouth.

Mark stepped forward and grabbed the policeman by the arm. “What happened? What did the doctors say?”

“It’s too early to say, but it appears she’s suffered a heart attack. Reverend Cloister found her collapsed in her garden early this afternoon.” Ernest Dresdan turned back to Mia. “I can take you to see her now, if you want.”

* * *

Rhys was pacing in the hospital reception area. “When’s Mia going to get back?”

Mark looked up from the magazine he was reading. “When she gets here, Rhys.”

Rhys stopped and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t really need an answer.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Because I had to say something. Waiting is driving me crazy.” Rhys paused and narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, how can you be reading at a time like this?”

“Because, like you, I have to do something. You’re pacing, I’m reading. It’s not like I’m paying any attention to what’s on the pages.”

“Cool it, guys,” Vince said from where he was sitting with Matt. “She’s only been gone for twenty-two minutes.”

“Twenty-two? Are you keeping track of the seconds, too?” Rhys asked.

Vince smiled, despite Rhys’s sarcastic tone. “Mia’s my best friend and we all love Aunt Cynthia, so yes, I’m keeping track. Waiting’s painful, but sometimes we have to do it.” He turned and grinned at Matt. “I’ve had some recent practise, so I know what I’m talking about.”

Rhys was about to give a snappy reply when he saw Mia and her parents approaching. Ken Lo Chou was holding Mia’s right hand while his other arm was around his wife. “She’s here!”

The other guys scrambled to their feet. Mia, Ken and Alisha were quickly surrounded. Tears were falling down Mia’s face, but her lips were set in a resolute line, as if she was trying to stop herself from being too emotional. Alisha looked ragged. Her eyes were red and her normally neat hair was a mess. Ken was stoic, but there was a tension about him that wasn’t typical.

“How is she?” Rhys asked before anyone else could get a word in.

“She’s holding on, but only just,” Alisha said.

Ken gave Mark a smile. “She wants to see you, Mark. Mia can take you down to see her.”

“I thought it was family only,” Mark said.

“You’re family, as far as she’s concerned. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them to come to see me. Alisha and I will straighten them out.”

Mark quickly thanked them and then headed off with Mia. Rhys noticed that they had only taken a couple of steps before Mark had a comforting arm around Mia. Rhys’s attention was drawn back to Mia’s parents when Ken coughed loudly.

“Vincent, Matt, she’d like to see you, too.”

“Huh? Why does she want to see us?” Vince threw Matt a puzzled glance before turning his attention back to Ken.

“She didn’t say, but I suspect it’s something to do with you being The Heart.” Ken reached over and put a hand on Vince’s shoulder. “Things are going to be tougher if she’s not around to support you. I’m not sure you realise just how much she cares for you – both of you.”

* * *

Vince lay on the couch with his eyes closed, his head resting on Matt’s lap, while Matt ran his fingers through Vince’s hair. They were taking advantage of being the only ones in the house. Mia and Mark had gone back to the hospital, while Rhys was making an effort to try and enjoy the first day of their university orientation week.

“I’ve pulled out of most of the O-week activities, but there are a couple I couldn’t get out of without leaving them in the lurch,” Matt murmured.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it – this isn’t the way I had expected this week to go. It’s just so fucking painful – waiting for her to die while praying for a miracle.”

Vince tried to relax. He hadn’t slept well the night before and he didn’t expect to be able to get much sleep for the next few nights. It had been such a shock to see the pale, skeletal version of Aunt Cynthia lying in the hospital bed that Vince had only taken in part of what she had told him. He understood that she was trying to do something to help the town accept him when he came out, but her voice had been so weak he hadn’t caught the details. He had just nodded when he thought it was appropriate to do so.

Two of Mia’s uncles, Keith and Rod, had shown up at the hospital as Vince and his friends were leaving. From the discussion with Mia after they left the hospital, Vince knew that Aunt Cynthia’s other children were on their way to Dubbo – Bruce was due in from Queensland that day, while Stuart was flying in from the USA the day after.

Vince and Matt were startled when there was a knock at the door. Vince reluctantly rolled off and rose to his feet. “Probably some sort of salesman. I’ll just get rid of them.”

Vince opened the door to see a familiar face. “Reverend Cloister! What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Vince. I’m glad I’ve caught you. I’ve just been visiting Aunt Cynthia in the hospital and she asked me to come to see you. Since I was in the area, I thought I’d try here first. Can I come in?”

Vince felt embarrassed. “Sorry. Of course.” He stepped back and to let Ian Cloister enter. “How did you find us, anyway?”

“G’day, Matt.” Ian glanced back at Vince. “Ken Chou gave me the address. He said you would probably be either here or at the university.”

Matt was standing by the couch. He stepped forward and shook hands with their guest.

“G’day, Reverend. What brings you here?”

“I’ve come to talk to Vince.” Reverend Cloister turned to the younger guy. “Is there somewhere private we can go?”

Vince made an easy decision. “It’s all right, Reverend. We can talk here. I’ve got nothing to hide from Matt.”

Ian Cloister looked uncertain. “Are you sure? And please, call me Ian.”

“I’m sure.” Vince was firm.

“Okay.” They all sat down. Vince and Matt sat on the couch, but kept a small distance between them. Ian took one of the chairs.

“Vince, a couple of weeks ago, Aunt Cynthia gave me a letter for you, to be delivered in the event of her death. She’s asked me to give it to you now.” Ian pulled a folded envelope from his pocket and handed it over.

Vince’s hand was shaking as he accepted the envelope. Vincent Aster was written in cursive script on the outside. Vince ripped it open and pulled out the contents. He opened the letter and started to read.

My dearest Vincent,

If you are reading this letter, then that means that I’ve joined my husband before seeing you and Matt married under The Tree. I’ve given this to Ian Cloister to deliver and I’ll repeat that I believe you can trust him with the truth.

You are going to face challenges that I never had to. In my time no one really understood the legend or chased it as fervently as the young people of the town have been doing recently. There was also none of the discrimination that you and Matt will face.

I have thought long and hard on what I can do. Most folks in the town respect me and will follow my lead if I show my approval for your relationship. I had hoped that I would be able to do so, but this letter is my insurance if circumstances prevent me.

The final decision is yours, but I would like you to speak at my funeral, and for Ian to tell everyone that I asked for you to do so. Ideally, I would like Ian to introduce you as the new Heart, but I can appreciate that that may be too much for you.

I would encourage you to discuss this with Matt and Ian. I just wish I could do more for you.

I have been honoured to know you, and I’m especially glad to have met Matt. He is a very special young man. I’m extremely pleased that you and he are a couple and I wish you a long and happy life together.

Yours truly,

Cynthia Boyle.

Vince handed the letter to Matt and then stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know what to think. A minute later he felt Matt’s arm reach around his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Vince turned his head to see Matt’s smile.

“I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do.” Matt handed the letter back.

“Aunt Cynthia said you might want to talk to me,” Ian said.

Vince looked at the reverend. “Do you know what’s in the letter?”

Ian shook his head. “She told me it was private.”

Vince acted on impulse and handed the letter to Ian. Knowing what he’d just done, he rested his head on Matt’s shoulder and reached to take his hand. Vince was about to find out if Aunt Cynthia’s judgement was accurate. He kept a careful eye on the reverend. He noticed Ian Cloister’s eyebrows rise almost immediately, but there was no other reaction. Vince felt some of the tension leave his body as he realised that he was out to another person, and they hadn’t recoiled in horror.

When Ian’s eyes widened and he flicked a glance at Vince, Vince guessed he’d just read the comment about The Heart.

“Here you are, Vince.” Ian handed the letter over and then settled back in his chair while keeping his gaze on Vince and Matt. A small smile appeared on his face. “Aunt Cynthia is still capable of surprising me, even after all these years.

“Firstly, congratulations to both of you. I’ll add my best wishes to Aunt Cynthia’s. I understand now what she was doing when she asked me for advice about a young gay couple, though I thought it was about Alex and his friend. How long have you two been going out?”

“Just over a month,” Matt said. He grinned at Vince. “Though sometimes it seems a lot longer.”

Ian frowned. “I hope I’m not jumping in where I’m not wanted, but the letter talked about getting married under The Tree. You know that’s impossible, don’t you? Same-sex marriages aren’t legal in Australia.”

Vince smiled. “Rhys has it all sorted out. We don’t need a legal wedding. All we need to do is to have the ceremony, without the legalities.”

“You seem very comfortable with this whole thing, sir. I would’ve expected you to have more reservations,” Matt said.

“Please, call me Ian. The Uniting Church doesn’t support same-sex marriages, but it’s up to individual ministers and congregations to decide if they’ll do commitment ceremonies. I’ve got no objection and I don’t believe the local church council will, either.”

“That wasn’t what I was talking about. I meant about the legend of The Heart of The Tree.”

“Ah.... Okay, I will admit that I had reservations initially, but I had a long chat with Aunt Cynthia. Let’s just say she convinced me that The Lord moves in mysterious ways and that The Tree is his gift to us. If people started worshiping The Tree, I would have a problem, but as it stands, The Tree just helps lead people together to celebrate marriage.”

“In that case, would you be willing to take our vows when we’re ready?” Vince asked.

Ian’s eyebrows rose. “I’d be honoured, but you’re making it sound like it’s still sometime off.”

“That’s me, more than Vince. I’m not going to rush into a lifelong commitment – and that’s what it’s going to be. I want to make sure we’re right as a couple – and I’m not taking the word of a tree for it.”

Vince nodded. “He’s convinced me, too. I want this to be forever, and we’re not jumping into it until we’re sure it’s going to last.”

Ian smiled. “Aunt Cynthia was right. You are a very special young man, Matt.” He rose to his feet. “I think I should leave you two to talk in private about her suggestion for the funeral, but I’ll say I think it’s a good one.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my contact details. Give me a call whenever you like and we’ll catch up again. Until then, good luck!”

* * *

Bobby’s phone rang soon after he got home from work. He checked the caller ID. “G’day, Alex.”

“Hi, Bobby. Have you heard the news about Aunt Cynthia?”

Bobby gave heavy sigh. “Yeah.” Rhys had passed on the news the night before and it had been dragging Bobby down all day.

“People are gathering here in the park. It’s a combination vigil and prayer watch for her. Why don’t you come down and join us?”

Bobby didn’t need any persuading. Being with friends was better than being alone. “I’ll be there shortly.”

He grabbed some fruit and headed out the door. He pulled a face as he recognised the real estate agent’s car pulling up as he left. Someone else had arrived to look over the house. It was another reason for Bobby to be depressed.

He strolled down the street towards the centre of town. There was no need to hurry, and he wanted to spend some time just breathing in the atmosphere. The air was clear – about the only effect of the recent rains had been the settling of dust. They hadn’t lasted long enough to do much good. Vince’s dad had told Bobby the night before that they needed a solid week of rain to start to reverse the drought.

When Bobby arrived at the park, he paused in amazement. Alex had told him people were gathering, but Bobby guessed that around a quarter of the town was there. Several were holding candles; others were holding hands, heads bowed in prayer. Most were either sitting silently or quietly talking to those around them. Bobby had just entered the park when he noticed one other thing – the fence around The Tree had been moved. There was a large opening, and he could see several people under the canopy. He was surprised to find Alex sitting with Kevin, Scott and Hayley. Scott had his arm around Hayley.

“Bobby, sit down.” Alex patted the ground next to him.

“We seem to be running into each other,” Bobby said to Kevin as he sat down.

“Don’t blame him. We’re the ones who suggested joining Alex, not Kevin,” Hayley said.

Bobby just raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t realised that Hayley and Scott were going out, but it was obvious that they were a couple.

“It’s not something I’ve told a lot of people, but I’ve got a cousin in Sydney who’s gay,” Scott said. “I didn’t want to intrude while Alex’s boyfriend was here, but since he’s gone back to uni, I thought it was time to try to be friends.”

Bobby glanced around, but no one nearby appeared to have heard Scott’s low-voiced comment. There was a background hum from other conversations in the crowd, but an unspoken consensus kept everything to a murmur.

Kevin’s eyes flicked to The Tree and then to Bobby. “It seems to be a good time to get to know people better. I can’t help wondering if it’s because we haven’t made an effort to be more tolerant that The Tree got sick.”

Alex shook his head. “Kevin, I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t agree with what you just said.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I saw a statement on the Internet recently that I prefer. I don’t want to be tolerated – I want to be accepted.”

Kevin smiled and nodded. “I stand, or sit, corrected. Yeah, I hope you’re accepted, too.”

“I think you’re partly right, though, Kevin,” Scott said. “The Tree’s supposed to be sick because The Heart’s despaired of finding love. If you and Bobby are correct in that the new Heart’s a guy, then he despaired because he didn’t think he could come out as gay. If we’d done more to show we didn’t mind, that may not have happened.”

Hayley looked thoughtful. “Do you suppose that Aunt Cynthia’s sick because The Tree’s sick?”

“She told us early on that she’s still comfortable in the love of her husband. No, I think it’s just coincidence. She’s not young, after all,” Bobby said.

Hayley rested her head on Scott’s shoulder. “I feel there’s a link somewhere, but I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s just time for her to go so the next Heart can take over?”

Scott straightened, knocking Hayley off balance. “She’s not dead yet, Hayley!”

“I heard it’s not going to be long, though,” Kevin said. “The doctors aren’t giving her much time.”

Alex’s eyes were unfocused. “I spoke to her just the other day. She told me that sometimes love can cause pain, but in the long run it’s always worthwhile. She said that she knew that one day soon she’ll be rejoining her husband, and while she wasn’t rushing towards that day, because she had things to do in this life, she wasn’t fearful, either.”

He smiled as he glanced around the group. “I came down here hoping she’ll get better, but if the worst happens, I want to remember what she’s done for everyone, not for how she left. We farewelled your friends the other day with stories of what they’d done. How about we remember Aunt Cynthia the same way?”

They were sharing their memories of Aunt Cynthia when the chorus of I’m a Believer sounded out. Alex grabbed his phone, checked who was calling, and grinned as he answered the phone.

“Jamie!”

“Hi, Babe. I just needed to talk to someone, and you got elected. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”

Alex glanced around the group, his forehead wrinkled “Noooo... but I’m with some friends at the moment. What’s up?”

“I’ve just gotten word that Rhys has cancelled the housewarming party, Matt’s pulled out of the O-week activities, and he and the Mourton group have suddenly become scarce. I’ve tried ringing Mia, but she’s not answering her phone. I’m getting a bit worried.”

Alex quickly filled Jamie in on what was going on.

“Aunt Cynthia? Is that Mia’s grandmother? I met her a couple of times at the shop where Mia worked.”

“That’s her.” Alex had a thought and clambered to his feet. “Jamie, how much do you know about the legend of The Tree here in Mourton?”

Bobby half rose, staring at Alex for a clue as to whether he wanted to be left alone. Alex smiled and beckoned. The rest of the group got up and followed Alex as he weaved his way through the crowd.

“I got the story about The Heart of The Tree, if that’s what you mean.”

Alex paused at the opening in the fence. He looked up at the canopy – thinner than it had been, but still with plenty of leaves and branches. There were several couples already under its cover. “And what about vows of love spoken under The Tree?”

Hayley gasped and grabbed Scott’s arm. Her eyes went wide as she stared at Alex.

“Something about them lasting forever. Is that right?” Jamie asked.

Alex stepped into the shade under The Tree, transferring the phone to his left hand. “That’s right. Well, I spoke to Aunt Cynthia recently about you, and asked if she saw there being any future for us. She told me that was up to us. If I didn’t try, then things would die. She told me to look into my heart to find out what I want.”

“Don’t give up, Alex, we can make it work. I’ve never felt for anyone else what I feel for you.”

Alex took a deep breath. “I’m under The Tree now, Jamie.” As his eyes adjusted, he caught some curious stares and realised talking on a phone at a time like that must look odd.

There was silence on the other end of the call.

“Do you see us staying together, Jamie? Do you dream of a life together? I do.”

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking, Alex? If so, the answer’s yes.”

Alex had reached the trunk of The Tree. He reached out and put his right palm against the wood. It felt warm and smooth.

Alex closed his eyes. “I love you, Jamie. I want to always love you.” He held his breath as he waited for the reply.

“I love you, too, Alex. And I’ll repeat that with you under The Tree next time I’m in Mourton, because I want to love you forever.”

Alex’s vision was blurry when he opened his eyes and looked up. “Thank you,” he whispered.

* * *

“What do you think you’ll do?” Mark asked Vince.

“I don’t know. I’d be coming out to the whole town, and I’m not ready for that. But I know she means well, so should I follow her lead?”

Mark and Mia had returned from the hospital to find Matt talking with an agitated Vince. When asked what was going on, Vince had handed over Aunt Cynthia’s letter.

“You’d only be coming out if you were introduced as The Heart. Why don’t you just speak, as asked, and leave it at that. Later on, if it’s needed, the word can get out that she asked you because of who you are,” Mia said.

“But I don’t know what to say. I’ve never gotten up in front of a large group of people before.” Vince grabbed Matt’s hand as he turned to his boyfriend. “I’d freeze up, I know it.”

Matt smiled and gave Vince’s hand a squeeze of reassurance. “Leave the first one to me. I know someone who can help write up something for you to say.”

“Who?” Mia asked.

“You may not realise this, but Shane’s a good poet. I’m sure he’ll come up with something for Vince that’s appropriate.”

“Maybe he won’t have to.” Vince turned to Mia, looking for hope. “Have the doctors said anything? Is she getting better?”

Mia froze for a moment, and then her lips started trembling. “No.” She buried her face in her hands as she started to cry. Mark pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” Vince clambered to his feet and stretched out a hand in apology. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I know,” Mia said, between sobs. “It’s just I can’t think of her being gone.”

“None of us can,” Mark murmured.

* * *

Mia rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. It was 2:23am, only eight minutes since the last time she’d checked. She sighed and sat up. Despite a long and busy day, she was too uptight to sleep. She and Vince had taken Matt’s car out to the airport to pick up her uncle Stuart during the day, and she had burst into tears as soon as she saw him. He hugged her and then insisted on going to the hospital. Aunt Cynthia was unconscious when they arrived, so Stuart had had a strong coffee and sat down with Mia’s parents and the rest of her uncles. It was the first time all of Aunt Cynthia’s surviving children had been together for over a decade. That was when Mia had Vince take her back to the house. She was beginning to hate the hospital.

Mia dragged herself out of bed and slipped on a long T-shirt. She decided to make herself a drink to see if that would help her sleep.

She was surprised to see a light from the direction of the kitchen when she opened her bedroom door. Padding quietly down the hallway, she wondered who else was up. Pausing at the entrance, she found Rhys and Mark talking quietly. Both were holding coffee cups.

Rhys saw her first. “Mia! It looks like you can’t sleep, either.”

She entered the kitchen. “My mind won’t switch off.” She saw Mark holding up a mug and a teabag in a silent question. “Thanks, Mark, that would be nice.”

Rhys grunted. “Same here. I tried to switch off at uni and enjoy O-week, but my heart wasn’t in it. I got an invite to a party, too, but I turned it down. Going out and having fun just felt... wrong.”

They all fell silent while Mark waited for the water to boil.

“Thanks, Mark,” Mia said when he put the steaming mug in front of her.

Mark shrugged. “My mum’s recipe for dealing with stress – a cup of tea.” He sat down and gave Mia a searching stare. “How did things go with your uncle?”

“Uncle Stu? He was jetlagged and didn’t know what he was saying half the time, but all he cared about was getting to see his mother. His first question when he got off the plane was whether she was still alive.”

Mia’s head bowed and she started to sob. Mark quickly moved next to Mia and put his arm around her. Rhys stretched over the table and put his hand on her arm. Between them, the two guys managed to calm her down.

“Where did your uncle fly in from?” Rhys asked.

“California. He lives near the Nevada border and it took him almost twenty-four hours to make it to Dubbo. That included a few hours in L.A. airport and a few more in Sydney.”

“A long trip. He came by himself?”

“Yeah. His wife stayed behind to look after their son.” Mia pursed her lips for a couple of seconds as she tried to think. “Donald must be about fourteen, now.”

“Is there anyone else still to come?” Rhys asked.

Mia sighed and blinked several times to try to hold back the tears that were threatening to start again. “No. All four of my uncles are here now.”

Rhys pulled a face and looked down at the table. “I’m sorry, Mia. That was thoughtless.”

“It’s okay, Rhys. There’s nothing you can do about it. I can’t help thinking about what’s going on – everything seems to remind me.”

There was an awkward silence, but Mark broke it. “She’s always been someone special to me. I can’t stop thinking about it, either, which is why I couldn’t sleep.”

“Same here,” Rhys said glumly.

Mia glanced in the direction of the bedrooms. “At least one person is sleeping well.”

“You mean Vince?” Rhys gave Mia a wry grin. “He was the first one up. I’ve never seen him more upset. He’s still the same guy we’ve always known, but he’s more... emotional... than he was before. It’s like he’s been holding things in for years and is only now letting them out.”

“He’s gone back to bed, then?”

“No. I got him to ring Matt around midnight, and then sent him over to stay there for the night. Vince needed someone to hold him – or someone to hold – and Matt was the right person.”

Mia sighed. “Yeah, I can appreciate that. Someone to hold you when it all gets too much.”

“I’m here whenever you like,” Mark said quietly.

Mia turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide as she saw his concern, but she also noticed the haunted look he was trying to hide. She sensed that he too was in need of comfort. She swallowed the last of her tea. “Mark, will you stay with me tonight? Just to hold me, nothing else,” she added quickly. “I just need someone.”

“I’d be honoured.” Mark drank the dregs from his cup. “Whenever you ask.”

They rose to their feet and, with arms around each other, retired to Mia’s bedroom. Rhys watched them go, a pained smile playing on his lips. When they were gone, he got up and moved the cups to the sink, where he paused and rested his body against the edge. He knew he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and most of the time that didn’t bother him, but that night it was painful. “You’re not the only one who needs someone tonight, Mia,” he whispered.

* * *

Rhys was making himself breakfast, which consisted mainly of coffee, as he hadn’t slept much, when the doorbell rang. He looked at his watch and frowned. Anyone at the door at eight in the morning wasn’t likely to be bringing good news.

He opened the door and found Mia’s parents. Their clothes were wrinkled and their bleary eyes revealed a lack of sleep. Ken Lo Chou appeared stoic, but the nervous wringing of his hands betrayed his anxiety. Alisha Chou didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup and her hair was in a mess. Streaks down her cheeks indicated she’d been crying recently. Rhys’s heart jumped to his throat as he assumed the worst.

“Mr. Chou, Mrs. Chou! Come in.” Rhys stepped back.

“Thanks, Rhys. Is Mia up?” Ken asked.

“Not yet. She was up in the middle of the night, though, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept late.”

“Could you wake her, please?” His tone was calm, but Rhys sensed that Mia’s father was struggling.

“I’ll be right back.”

Rhys headed down the hallway and knocked the on the door of the master bedroom. “Mia?”

When there was no answer, he opened the door and looked in. Mark’s arms were around Mia and both appeared to be sleeping. They were still wearing their clothes from their early morning trip to the kitchen. Rhys tiptoed over and shook Mia’s shoulder. “Mia...”

Mia murmured something, opened one eye, and then closed it again. “What is it, Rhys?” She sounded barely awake.

“Your parents are here. They asked me to wake you.”

After a brief pause, Mia’s eyes snapped open. She clambered up into a sitting position. “Did they say what it’s about?”

“No, but your mum’s been crying.”

Mark stirred. “What’s going on?”

Rhys backed away. “I’ll tell them that you’ll be out soon.”

Rhys returned to the living room. “She’ll be out shortly. Can I get you something while you’re waiting?”

“Thank you, but no.” Ken stared thoughtfully at Rhys for a moment. “If you could leave us alone for a few minutes when Mia comes out, it would be appreciated.”

“Of course!”

Rhys retreated to the kitchen, but kept an ear out listening. He didn’t want to hear what was going to be said, but couldn’t stop himself.

“Mia, your grandmother passed away earlier this morning...”

* * *

Rhys glanced around the cemetery. He estimated that there were at least a couple of hundred people there. There were even some from out of town – Warren had arrived the night before with Karen, and Patricia was standing by her parents with Colin at her side. Most of the university students from the area had also returned for the weekend. The weather was kind – not too hot, but with a brilliant blue sky punctuated by high clouds.

“... Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...”

Rhys blinked several times as the coffin was lowered into the grave after Ian Cloister’s benediction. It felt wrong to him, but he still couldn’t convince himself that Aunt Cynthia was gone. There were others that appeared to be in shock, not really believing what they were there for, though most were either crying or comforting those who were. Rhys saw Mia crying against Mark’s chest. Mark didn’t look much better. Paul was standing next to Mia, visibly struggling to hold in his emotions. His right hand was gripping that of a slender blonde girl of his own age.

The service at the church had gone for over an hour, with eulogies from Bruce, Aunt Cynthia’s eldest son, Belinda Cordhill, the bridesmaid at Aunt Cynthia’s wedding, and Ruby Johnson, the town mayor. Each had spoken from their own unique perspective of Aunt Cynthia’s love for the town and all that passed through it. After the service concluded, almost everyone followed the hearse to the cemetery, where a dark hole had been opened next to where Andrew Boyle rested.

After the immediate family had stepped forward and dropped some soil into the grave, Ian Cloister spoke to the crowd. “You may, if you wish, come forward and put a handful of dirt, or a special gift, as a final farewell to a very special lady. While you do so, Aunt Cynthia had a special request for this point in time. She asked one of the young people in this town to say a few words.” Ian turned and nodded. “Vincent?”

Rhys watched as Vince left his family and Matt and shuffled forward, eyes downcast. He was dressed in a suit, and looked as uncomfortable as Rhys was feeling. Vince stopped next to the grave and glanced at the reverend, who smiled back.

Vince pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Aunt...” He swallowed and tried again. “Aunt...”

Rhys frowned and took a hesitant step forward. Vince’s hands were shaking so badly it would have been impossible to read what was on the paper. Rhys wondered what he could do to help Vince.

Before Rhys could act, Matt was there. Matt eased the paper from Vince’s grasp, smiled gently at his boyfriend, and then looked up at the surrounding crowd.

“I didn’t know Aunt Cynthia for long, but in only a few short weeks she touched my life, and those of my friends, in a way that can’t be described. A friend of mine,” Matt looked across to where Shane was standing with Karen, “put together a poem to say something about how we all feel.

“It’s called View From the Hill.”

Matt coughed once before he started.

Blue skies, fluffy white clouds
slightly tinged with gray.
Majestic trees dappling the light,
on a warm and peaceful day.
A gentle breeze, helps the leaves
to wave a rustling welcome
as the ambiance soothes the soul
lulling senses, nearly numbed.

Rhys glanced around. Matt’s rich baritone had everyone’s attention.

On the forest floor, a mottled mat,
a carpet of fallen leaves.
Laying peacefully, in silent repose
un-bestirred by that gentle breeze.
their very essence enriching the soil
from whence they originally came.
dull colors belying the reality
of their previous vibrant fame.

Several people in the crowd were nodding slowly.

The valley lays peaceful below
from the vantage point on the hill.
a verdant patchwork quilt
sown by hands of practiced skill.
Loved ones, from near and far,
gather to honor and praise.
Bringing stories and memories
of younger and happier days.

Rhys was not alone as he wiped his eyes. He didn’t feel it to be unmanly to shed a tear as he recalled loving memories of the woman being laid to rest.

With a will of steel, a loving heart,
kind eyes and gentle smile,
you taught us to be better people
with your life lived free from guile.
Accepting that which must be accepted,
unafraid to change what should be changed
teaching restraint and patience
lest raw emotion be unchained.

Matt barely paused as he momentarily bowed his head in acknowledgement to Aunt Cynthia

A lifetime of living
has led to this spot
near the love of a lifetime
You never forgot.
Now, the breeze and the leaves,
with barely heard sighs,
join in our mourning
and whisper good-byes.

Matt looked down at the coffin below him and then returned the poem to Vince. Vince, with tears running unchecked down his face, folded the paper and dropped it into the grave. He turned away and let Matt lead him back to his family.

Rhys heard murmurs of appreciation from those around him. One person wondered aloud who the stranger was that had spoken, but his wife told him that it didn’t matter, as it was obviously done with love, and by someone who knew Aunt Cynthia.

After paying his last respects, Rhys joined Matt and Vince and the rest of their group. He was surprised when Scott and Hayley approached.

Hayley gave Matt a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. That was wonderful.”

Scott held out his hand. “Yeah, thanks.”

While Matt shook Scott’s hand, Hayley hugged Vince. Vince hugged her back awkwardly.

“Good luck, Vince. We’ll be here when you need us,” Hayley said when she released him.

“Wh...what do you mean?”

She smiled. “We’ve worked it out. Aunt Cynthia obviously knew, too, and approved. Scott and I wish you and Matt all the best.”

Scott nodded. “You’ve got friends, Vince. We’ll be with you when you’re ready.”

Rhys wiped a hand across his eyes. He knew that Vince had been concerned about coming out to the town, but the early signs were very promising that he wouldn’t have any serious problems.

Rhys was experiencing conflicting emotions of happiness for his friend and pain at the loss of Aunt Cynthia, when he glanced across towards his father and his heart skipped a beat.

His father was standing with the mayor, the town council, and other town dignitaries. Rhys’s attention was fixed on Susie Young, who was whispering something to one of the councillors with whom she shared a family resemblance. Both were looking in his direction and the councillor was frowning.

Rhys was afraid that Hayley and Scott weren’t the only ones who had worked out who was the new Heart.

p>The poem, View From the Hill, is the copyright of Codey and is used with permission. It was Codey’s suggestion to have the poem appear in the story as having been written by Shane.
Copyright © 2014 Graeme; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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Chapter Comments

Ha ha, Stephen. Me too - branches, many branches.

 

Codey's poem was lovely but I had to do a little search to find who he was. So young!

 

That was a very touching chapter, Graeme. The writing makes it easy to feel sympathy for the characters. Just how long ago did you write this? And did you make any changes when you ported it over to GA?

  • Site Administrator
On 12/20/2013 12:13 PM, Stephen said:
This chapter is both sad and beautiful, a fitting memorial to a beloved lady.

I hope that the next time Suzie Young walks under the Tree, that it drops a big

branch on her head.

I also hope it's a fitting memorial to Codey, too. That poem was one of the last things he wrote before he died :(
  • Site Administrator
On 12/20/2013 12:23 PM, Ron said:
Ha ha, Stephen. Me too - branches, many branches.

 

Codey's poem was lovely but I had to do a little search to find who he was. So young!

 

That was a very touching chapter, Graeme. The writing makes it easy to feel sympathy for the characters. Just how long ago did you write this? And did you make any changes when you ported it over to GA?

That chapter was written in 2007, about six months before Codey passed away. I still miss him. :(

 

I haven't been making any changes -- this is a copy of the original story.

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