It's been twelve years now since Charlie's abduction. Where does the time go? I blinked and suddenly twelve years had passed without me even realizing it.
Despite his ordeal - or perhaps as a result of it - Charlie has grown into a fine young man. I was shocked, when just last month, he announced to his father and I that he was joining the police force.
I saw him off, dressed to the nines in his cadet uniform, grinning proudly as he stood below the words, "Police Academy". I had, once upon a time, thought that Charlie looked nothing like Faith, but as I saw him there, as I had seen her all those years ago, it hit me that the resemblance was breathtaking.
He had hugged his father and shaken my hand. Said, "Thanks, I couldn't have done this without you." Then he disappeared into the swarm of cadets, blending in.
You would have been so proud of him Faith. I could almost see you, standing at Fred's side - as I'm certain that you never would have left it - dabbing at your teary eyes with a tissue. You would have said, "That's my baby. Look at him, all grown up."
Maybe you were there. Dabbing at your invisible eyes with an invisible tissue. Perhaps your invisible eyes have seen everything.
I have no children to call my own. Charlie and Emily are the closest thing I have. Fred keeps saying to me, "Damn it Bosco, you're spoiling them rotten. Stop making me look bad."
When I purchased a house for Emily and her husband as a wedding present, Fred hugged me and whispered into my ear, "Don't make me wish that you'd died in that crash." He didn't mean it of course, it was just Fred's way of thanking me.
Neither Emily nor I have ever spoken out about how Charlie was saved from the clutches of evil. The press would have had a field day with that. Could you imagine? "Dead Mother Saves Son's Life - Read The Amazing, True Story!"
After a few years had passed, Emily came to me again and spoke in whispered tones. "Did you mean, what you about said mom saving Charlie?"
I had nodded and we exchanged sly smiles. It was to be our secret. One that both of us would take to the grave.
_______________
Sometimes I still think that you're near me. Whenever I feel a cold breeze blow through a room, I think it's you. I'll take a look around, searching for your ghostly figure. It's never there of course, it's all in my head.
Hell, sometimes I think that all of it was in my head. I had a conversation with a dead woman. But your words were too true to be a product of my grief stricken mind. Had I manufactured the entire experience, no doubt I would have had you channelling Elvis. "Thank ya, thank ya very much."
Sometimes I'll think that I feel your icy fingers touch my cheek and I close my eyes. Try to conjure up your image in my head, remember the feel of your presence. It's getting harder as the years pass by. You will forever remain young, while the rest of age and wither.
Our friends still speak of you. Most often laughing, as we recount some idiot scheme of mine and of how you tried to prevent it. Then we'll remember how brave you were. And silence will settle over as we sit with our respective memories.
Did I ever tell you that I was offered a place back on the force? It was a few months after Charlie's abduction, after I had fully recovered. One of the big guys, one of the brass, appeared at my door. I turned him down - I wanted no part of the life that had killed you.
I didn't think I could handle it; being paired up with a rookie. All wide eyed and innocent. I was afraid that I would fail them as I had failed you. So instead, I turned to my mother. She offered me a position as a bar tender in her bar.
Bar tending was never my dream job. It wasn't even a job that I had ever seriously considered. But you know what? I'm good at it. Damn good at it. I enjoy the people, listening to their conversations, learning about their lives.
Ma's still alive and kicking. I don't think she'll ever grow old. Sometimes, I feel older than her. She talks about you sometimes, "Your partner, Faith? Was that her name?"
She hasn't actually forgotten. She loved you Faith. Like the daughter that she never had. This was just her way of dealing - pretend you don't remember because then maybe you'll forget. I tried it, it doesn't work. So that's why I remember.
_________________
Bosco stood up, his knees protesting the movement. All those years of running had taken their toll on his joints. Hadn't he been warned of that danger but paid no heed? Probably.
"So, that's about it." he said and looked at the headstone. The weather was just starting to attack it. The rain and the wind wearing away at the smooth rock. "I'll see you again soon."
Before he left, Bosco bent over and rearranged the flowers that he had left scattered about. "Hope you like them." he whispered and then straightened himself out again.
Roses red, blowing in the breeze. Sending petals into the heavens. Bosco smiled as he felt the coolness work its way under his collar. Windy days made him happy. They reminded him of her.
Despite his ordeal - or perhaps as a result of it - Charlie has grown into a fine young man. I was shocked, when just last month, he announced to his father and I that he was joining the police force.
I saw him off, dressed to the nines in his cadet uniform, grinning proudly as he stood below the words, "Police Academy". I had, once upon a time, thought that Charlie looked nothing like Faith, but as I saw him there, as I had seen her all those years ago, it hit me that the resemblance was breathtaking.
He had hugged his father and shaken my hand. Said, "Thanks, I couldn't have done this without you." Then he disappeared into the swarm of cadets, blending in.
You would have been so proud of him Faith. I could almost see you, standing at Fred's side - as I'm certain that you never would have left it - dabbing at your teary eyes with a tissue. You would have said, "That's my baby. Look at him, all grown up."
Maybe you were there. Dabbing at your invisible eyes with an invisible tissue. Perhaps your invisible eyes have seen everything.
I have no children to call my own. Charlie and Emily are the closest thing I have. Fred keeps saying to me, "Damn it Bosco, you're spoiling them rotten. Stop making me look bad."
When I purchased a house for Emily and her husband as a wedding present, Fred hugged me and whispered into my ear, "Don't make me wish that you'd died in that crash." He didn't mean it of course, it was just Fred's way of thanking me.
Neither Emily nor I have ever spoken out about how Charlie was saved from the clutches of evil. The press would have had a field day with that. Could you imagine? "Dead Mother Saves Son's Life - Read The Amazing, True Story!"
After a few years had passed, Emily came to me again and spoke in whispered tones. "Did you mean, what you about said mom saving Charlie?"
I had nodded and we exchanged sly smiles. It was to be our secret. One that both of us would take to the grave.
_______________
Sometimes I still think that you're near me. Whenever I feel a cold breeze blow through a room, I think it's you. I'll take a look around, searching for your ghostly figure. It's never there of course, it's all in my head.
Hell, sometimes I think that all of it was in my head. I had a conversation with a dead woman. But your words were too true to be a product of my grief stricken mind. Had I manufactured the entire experience, no doubt I would have had you channelling Elvis. "Thank ya, thank ya very much."
Sometimes I'll think that I feel your icy fingers touch my cheek and I close my eyes. Try to conjure up your image in my head, remember the feel of your presence. It's getting harder as the years pass by. You will forever remain young, while the rest of age and wither.
Our friends still speak of you. Most often laughing, as we recount some idiot scheme of mine and of how you tried to prevent it. Then we'll remember how brave you were. And silence will settle over as we sit with our respective memories.
Did I ever tell you that I was offered a place back on the force? It was a few months after Charlie's abduction, after I had fully recovered. One of the big guys, one of the brass, appeared at my door. I turned him down - I wanted no part of the life that had killed you.
I didn't think I could handle it; being paired up with a rookie. All wide eyed and innocent. I was afraid that I would fail them as I had failed you. So instead, I turned to my mother. She offered me a position as a bar tender in her bar.
Bar tending was never my dream job. It wasn't even a job that I had ever seriously considered. But you know what? I'm good at it. Damn good at it. I enjoy the people, listening to their conversations, learning about their lives.
Ma's still alive and kicking. I don't think she'll ever grow old. Sometimes, I feel older than her. She talks about you sometimes, "Your partner, Faith? Was that her name?"
She hasn't actually forgotten. She loved you Faith. Like the daughter that she never had. This was just her way of dealing - pretend you don't remember because then maybe you'll forget. I tried it, it doesn't work. So that's why I remember.
_________________
Bosco stood up, his knees protesting the movement. All those years of running had taken their toll on his joints. Hadn't he been warned of that danger but paid no heed? Probably.
"So, that's about it." he said and looked at the headstone. The weather was just starting to attack it. The rain and the wind wearing away at the smooth rock. "I'll see you again soon."
Before he left, Bosco bent over and rearranged the flowers that he had left scattered about. "Hope you like them." he whispered and then straightened himself out again.
Roses red, blowing in the breeze. Sending petals into the heavens. Bosco smiled as he felt the coolness work its way under his collar. Windy days made him happy. They reminded him of her.