In My Time And Place: Part 3d
***
Ruby is as he left her: cradled by the big wingback chair, staring into the fire seemingly hypnotized by the jumping crackling flames. He takes the seat next to her, stares into the fire as well. They sit for a long time, both lost in their own grief. There are things he should be doing, preparations to make, but all Donald can think about is the ache in his chest and the years ahead of him without his friend. It’s the rustling of satin that brings him out of his thoughts as Ruby walks over to Stuart’s desk and pulls something out of one of the drawers. She brings it back, offering it up to him.
“He left this for you.” It’s an envelope, heavy and full with his name on the front. He pulls the letter out - three pages covered in Stuart’s elegant script - and begins to read.
D ~
I would apologize for my absence but I doubt you would accept. Not yet anyway.
I know you’re confused right now, and hurt. I’m selfish and at times arrogant but I don’t believe I’m wrong to say that right now, you’re in a considerable amount of pain. And beyond that, your brain is trying to reconcile the many thoughts fighting for dominance in your head. Let me make this a bit easier. Business first.
My solicitor knows my wishes and the papers have long been prepared. I’ve left everything to you save a small living for Jim and a stipend for Ruby if she wants it. I have no doubt that you will ensure that Jim is settled and that the rest of my staff is taken care of. You needn’t worry about Ruby. She’ll see to herself.
My library is yours but my hope is that you will continue its purpose and open it to those that have need of it.
As for my body - and this must be done so please don’t argue with anyone - take it out to a quiet field and burn it. Let my ashes scatter to the wind. Take Ruby and Jim with you. This isn’t something you should do alone. Its unconventional I know but it must be done. So please Donald, for my sake, burn my body.
And now…I told you in the beginning that any relationship between us would lead to pain though I cannot feel a moment of regret, no matter what hurt we may now feel. It’s selfish of me, as I know you alone bear the pain of our separation. But I hope you believe, as I do, that it’s worth it. That our friendship was worth it.
Your friendship has been the most important of my life. Just how important you will never know. I have no words to tell you how many times you saved me, grounded me, allowed me to continue on doing what destiny demanded of me.
It is because of you that I was happy. It is because of you that I lived a life I can be proud of and look back upon with fondness. I have never regretted my decision to not leave and never return. It was weak of me but a weakness I have never lamented.
This is not the place to rehash old arguments but I will restate my sorrow at not being able to share everything with you if only because it hurt you and I would have liked you to know all of me. But I stand by the decision - it will never be wrong. It kept you safe which is all that matters. I hope you will not seek any answers to old questions now that I’m gone. It will do you no good; bring you no resolution or peace.
All I want for you now is to try and be happy. Live life for the both of us. Do not mourn me too hard or too long. I know that is an unfair request and were I in your place…but please, try.
I am certain that we will see each other again. It is that knowledge and the joy I will feel at our reunion that makes this separation bearable for me. I take comfort in the knowledge that the universe is far from done with us; our souls are too strongly bound for us to ever be fully separated.
Until then, with the deepest love and affection
Your friend
- S
It’s all too much for Donald to take in and so he grabs onto the one thing that somehow sees solid, seems safe.
“He wants us to burn his body.”
Ruby just nods. It makes sense in some perverse contrary Stuart way. He was an orphan from childhood, had no family but the one he created for himself and a wanderlust that was never tamed. Donald noticed early on that Stuart never could stay still, always moving, always fidgeting in some way, always wanting to go go go.
The only time Donald had seen Stuart truly still was during a reading when he seemed anchored to the forces around him, like he was the center of some kind of power, holding him in place lest the strength of the connection weaken with movement.
So Stuart requesting that his ashes be scattered on the wind makes sense. Even if to Donald it feels like Stuart being carried away from him.
Ruby breaks him out of his thoughts, reminding him that he’s not alone in this, that there are others he needs to consider, who will help him with this particular task. Her voice is still quiet, as if she’s afraid to speak above a whisper and shatter the thin layer of composer she’s created for herself.
“We only returned so you could say goodbye. It should be done tonight. The longer we wait…” She doesn’t say that the longer they wait the longer Stuart will be in limbo before he can truly cross over that invisible barrier. Not to mention the body’s continual decay.
Donald nods in agreement. He doesn’t know if he has the strength to see this through but it’s Stuart’s last request, he’ll find the strength somewhere.
***
It’s a cool clear night, the stars pale, dimmed by the full moon climbing across the sky providing enough light to see while they work.
The carriage is too small for the coffin and a wagon would have brought too much attention so Donald cradles Stuart’s body to his while Ruby drives the short trip to the edge of town and beyond into an open field where Jim is waiting for them, guarding the large funeral pyre he’d gone ahead to build.
They arrange Stuart’s body atop the pyre while Ruby sprinkles something over the wood and then over Stuart. Donald doesn’t ask what or why accepting it as just another one of the many things he isn’t supposed to know.
Donald takes one last look before he touches the burning torch to the pyre. The fire catches quickly, burning bright, flaring up and licking towards the sky. The red and gold and white flames burn quick and true, eclipsing Stuart’s body. It consumes the wood quickly, creeping towards Stuart’s body before latching on and burning even brighter, stronger, cloth and flesh causing smoke to fill the air. The stench is unexpected, almost sweet, perhaps because of whatever Ruby sprinkled over the body. They stand there all night, side by side, the three people closest to Stuart. The three people who loved Stuart most.
The fire burns till dawn, petering out as the sky turns pink, the morning star twinkling into view, the air crisp and clean and all that’s left of Stuart is ash dancing through the air, carried away by a soft gentle wind.
***
The ride home is quiet, heavy with sorrow and loss. None of them have spoken since they arrived at the field last night. Donald isn’t sure he could speak if he needed to. Jim drives the carriage, his horse tethered to the rear. Donald sits in back, staring blankly out the window, Ruby seated next to him, lost in her own sorrow.
When they reach Stuart’s house - always Stuart’s house, always, no matter what some piece of paper says - Donald descends from the carriage to find Stuart’s faithful housekeeper Elly waiting beside a small stack of luggage.
Neither Jim nor Ruby have followed him and when he turns back to face the carriage Ruby is looking right at him. Her face is neutral as she watches him, only softening the smallest bit when the realization that she’s leaving immediately hits him.
“What will you do?” His voice is rough, dry from lack of use. He doesn’t ask if she wants the stipend Stuart left her, its obvious she’ll refuse it and he doesn’t ask her to stay. He knows she won’t.
“Head back south. I have…family down there.” Ruby’s smile is cold and bitter. “You needn’t worry about me Donald. Truly.”
She’s never used his name before, never been anything but utterly formal. It seems appropriate now that they’re saying good-bye. They’ve never really liked each other - an ugly jealousy on his part; thinly veiled annoyance on hers - but they tolerated each other for Stuart’s sake. But she’s been a constant in his life for nearly two years now and he’s surprised to find that he’ll miss her.
She must feel the same because she squeezes his hand before settling back into the carriage and nodding to Jim. Donald stands on the curb and watches the carriage till it rounds the corner and disappears from site. Donald knows he’ll never see her again.
***
The loss of Stuart is never more obvious than when Donald walks into the house. Even when Stuart was traveling his presence was always there, his essence somehow rooted deep into the foundations of the house, waiting for him to come home. But now the house feels empty - the servants hiding and Jim taking Ruby to the train station - as if the house itself knows Stuart will never walk through the door again.
Someone, probably Elly, has draped the house in mourning - curtains drawn, black sheets over the mirrors, lights turned down and all portraits and pictures taken off the walls. The house feels heavy, all sound muffled, all light drowned by the dark curtains covering the windows and mirrors. It settles in his chest till Donald feels like breathing is a chore and all he wants to do is fall into the nearest chair and slip into oblivion.
He forces himself to climb the stairs and find Stuart’s bedroom. It’s just as Stuart left it all those weeks ago - bed made, books left on the night table, journal on the writing desk, cufflinks tossed carelessly on the dresser. The comforter is cool when Donald slips onto the bed, the pillow soft and still smells of Stuart. He sinks into it, lets the softness of the mattress and the comfort of the familiar scent lull him into an exhausted sleep.
***
When he wakes, hours later, it’s like getting the news all over again. The realization somehow worse this time around now that he’s somewhat rested. The shock is dull but the pain is not. There’s nothing to dull it, nothing to lessen the agony of his new life. Donald’s been here before with the loss of Cassidy and he remembers that pain, all sharp and raw, right up on the surface. But this, this is different, deeper, like the pain has sunk into his bones, taken up residence and has no plans of leaving. There’s nothing to do, no way to fight it because it will always, always be there. It hurts to breathe, hurts to do anything other than curl in on himself, as tight as he can and let the tears come, let the pain wash over him as Donald lets his new reality in.
Eventually he drags himself out of bed, more exhausted than when he fell into it all those hours ago. But he can’t stay, not there, not now, not when everything screams of Stuart and loss and grief. He stumbles down the stairs and finds Jim waiting for him looking just as tired and lost. Besides him stands Richard, faithful Richard come to take him home.
Home. Where only half of everything reminds him of Stuart. Where, impossible as it seems now, there are memories that don’t belong to Stuart. Home, where he has to learn to live life all over again.
***
The last time Donald dreamed was the night Stuart died, since then there’s been nothing. It’s how he knows that the dream that woke him means something. Like all the ones before it the details are hazy, slipping back into his subconscious upon waking, all but the one detail that matters most, Stuart’s hazel green eyes shining with happiness.
In the thirteen years since Stuart’s death Donald has done his best to live a life Stuart would approve of and enjoy.
He leaves the house in Jim’s charge, knowing that between Jim, Elly and the rest of the staff it will be cared for as if Stuart were still alive. The library remains under Jim’s care; always open to those who come seeking its hidden knowledge.
Donald visits once in a while, when Stuart’s loss goes from a constant ache to a throbbing pain. There’s a kind of comfort there among Stuart’s belongings, the place he lived, built a life, infused with his presence. Donald knows that Stuart’s spirit isn’t hanging around, that there’s nothing of Stuart there beyond the memories and the comfort they give him. But it helps. It’s all he has.
He travels a bit, leaving the east coast and heading west, a direction Donald knows Stuart never traveled. He visits Kansas City on a perverse whim to see a place that still retains some of the rugged, pioneer feel. Donald’s surprised to find that he likes it there, likes the vast rolling land, open blue skies and the clean air. Breathing seemed easier out there where things were so wide and open, sparse.
He travels east, across the ocean to ancient cities full of ancient mysteries and ancient superstitions. Stuart would have loved it, would have felt completely at home walking the old cobblestone streets, listening to the old speak of their ghosts and their hauntings and their mysteries.
The travel is a change, a good change that Donald welcomes. Especially when society remains as tedious as ever - the seasonal happenings never more dull and boring without Stuart to mock them - and he has no interest in the parade of women who twitter and flirt and make the gossip fly. He has a few acquaintances that make the parties and rare theater visits bearable but the relationships are only ever superficial, merely someone to discuss the latest “news” and happenings with, no one Donald would confide in or call a friend.
Donald finds he’s most comfortable, as he always has been, in the company of Richard and now Jim. Jim who loved Stuart like a son and looked at Donald as his last link to Stuart. When Jim dies of old age just a few years after Stuart, Donald grieves deeply for the loss of his friend.
When Richard died last year it was like losing his father. It’s the last of his family and with Richard gone Donald is truly alone.
It’s why he secretly hopes the dreams portend what all the others have before: death.
Loss and sorrow have taken their toll and Donald’s tired; tired and ready for it all to be over. He’s been ready for a while - his will in perfect order, the books from Stuart’s beloved library gradually given to those in need rather than just lent out, the staff of both houses looked to - everything prepared for the inevitable.
Stuart promised him they’d see each other again, promised that there was more for them, that there was a future, a destiny waiting for him. But to get there Donald has to cross over, has to take the next step. Donald thinks he’s waited for Stuart long enough.
He’s ready.
Part 4: World War Two