A simple story III : Part 12

Story by mmarvinleatherbear on SoFurry

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#11 of A simple story III


( Times flies dudes... Next week will be the time for the final chapter...)

The train had left Bayonne's station and after swallowing the coastal plain, it was now meandering through the wide valley, slowing its speed to tackle the first slight slopes. On either side of the line, Fred could see the hills begin to rise and tighten their grip on the valley that now flowed to the southeast. Turning his head, he saw Greg, sitting on the other side of the wagon. He had sat there on the right without hesitation when Fred had set his sights on a seat on the left side. This deprived Fred of any real desire to appreciate the luminous green of the barely sown fields and the watered pastures. The train was just a local diesel train that irrigated the valley before turning northeast to reach the Toulouse's metropolis. The couple wouldn't go that far.

Early in the morning, they had boarded a small twin-engine propeller that ensured the connection with Bayonne, in the far south-west, almost on the Spanish border but in the middle of the Basque Country. Fred knew almost nothing of this land, neither French nor Spanish, but which History and the Pyrenees had shared between them, making each of the fragments a now inalienable piece of their territories. He just knew that Greg had fallen in love with the area to the point of buying a large house there that he was planning to make his place of retirement.

And each passing day brought that moment closer. But Fred felt more and more that he would never settle there.

It reminded him of Francis. Greg had also hoped to have found in him the man of his life, the one who would share his old age. And then their choices and their respective desires had led to the separation of the couple. Francis, in addition, had also found someone else. This Dave. They were married. Had lived together and then divorced.

Fred couldn't stop a smirk from appearing. Those two... He no longer knew what point in their intimate cycle they were at. The encounter ? Love? The separation ? Were they in their fourth or sixth marriage ?

Fred had lost count a bit. It was the way their relationship worked. He was also aware of their differences. Fred loved Greg. He still loved him but he was more distant, more lonely. And losing his father wasn't meant to help his own relationship. Greg was slipping away, and it was only a matter of time now, Fred was more and more convinced of it.

He tried to focus on the scenery. Essentially rural, the country lined up small villages, some with a train station, but more often than not, the rectangular blue sign announced the simultaneous service of three or more villages. Bidarray was lucky enough to be one, which explained that it was one of the biggest villages in the area. But without exaggerating. If there were a thousand inhabitants, that made it a metropolis compared to other hamlets. Fred watched the long national road parallel to the railway, from which left perpendicular roads, narrower and more local. There were more houses along the road, the train was slowing down. They were coming.

With the door open, the two men were the only ones to descend at the start of the afternoon. They left and stood on the central reservation before crossing the track to reach the opposite quay. Further on, the tracks merged into a single track that the train was already taking with an annoying screech of metal. Greg raised his arm to point out the slender tiger that had just appeared from behind the station. Quickly, the two men hugged briefly before separating, even sadder than before.

Samuel did not neglect to greet Fred in the same way as well.

"Come, the car is that way."

Ignoring the protests of his uncle and his husband, Samuel grabbed their suitcases and walked towards the blue car parked in the shade of the plane trees.

"How is dad ?

  • Not good as you can imagine. We're trying to cheer him up, to make him think to something else. Do you know than some part of villagers came this morning to pay their respects ? Some barely knew him but they came anyway to see him one last time.

  • Yes, dad was appreciated here. He loved to lend a hand to the rugby club. When I think he almost never came here... "

&

" Frankly, what's the problem ? "

Greg took turns looking at his parents. Ed was in the kitchen, marinating slices of mackerel for the next dinner, naked as usual under his apron, all the more willingly since Sammy had moved to live his own life. Mark was busy adjusting the satellite decoder to update it.

Greg believed the two men had no intention of talking about it. Ed was grumbling in his corner, looking out of the corner of his eye at his husband. Greg was a little worried. Perhaps he saw one of the pillars of his beliefs in life cracking.

Ed ends up speaking.

« It's okay, it's just that I started to think about some things and your dad is not sure what to say. "

Mark was mumbling in his corner. Greg was looking at Ed.

« What were you thinking about ? "

The bear hesitated. It was an intimate thing, which only concerned them after all. But Mark gave him a look that meant he could speak if he wanted to, but he probably wouldn't.

" Well, I'm starting to think about it after.

- See you after what ?

- Greg, you must know, but your dad and I are going to retire soon. "

Greg looked curiously at his parents. He was surprised. But quite frankly, he knew that moment was coming. Time passed inexorably despite all the belief that one might have to think otherwise. Yet the facts were there. Mark and Ed were getting older. His father was even gaining a little weight and his dad had more difficulty walking as a result of his old rugby injury. He too was not getting any younger. It had been almost 25 years since he left the Wasps, his lifelong club. And if he still roamed the rugby fields, it was above all to talk, having himself hung up the crampons for a while, career and fortune made.

" It's been almost six years since I played my last game myself so...

- Yes, but then you continued with this post of assistant coach at the federation. "

Mark had stood up, helping his hands, the television finally turning, the sound muted for the moment.

" In three years, I will have finished my last contract and your father will also have stopped torturing his students. I can't imagine the sigh of relief from a whole generation of students who will then have escaped your lessons. "

Mark was smiling a little sadistically.

« Come on, if I had really been that terrible, I wouldn't have kept my job for that long. No, what Ed means is that we don't know what we'll do next. For me, the thought of staying home the rest of my life scares me. I don't want to become one of those old folks who have a life of a millimeter because they can't do anything else. And then...

- And then ? "

Ed intervened.

" And then I too want to change my life a bit. But I don't know if your father will want to and follow me.

- Do you know what you wanna do daddy ? "

Ed muttered, facing the window, his hands busy chopping vegetables into pieces. Mark continued in his stead.

" He wants to leave.

- Go ?

- Leave from here, yes. "

Mark walked over to his son and spoke quietly to him.

" Do not worry. I understand it and it saddens me to leave from here but... "

Mark was looking at Ed's back. In a way that would have been romantic if the bear didn't show his ass like that. Mark appreciated this vision, even after all these decades. He was smiling.

" He won't say it. He's too proud for that. But he's homesick.

- The evil of ...

- He wants to go back to France. I understand it. He was born there after all. But there are so many problems.

- Worries ?

- Hey, we are not rich despite appearances. We are going to have small pensions. You were lucky to have a better profession and also the talent to put yourself the cream of the crop. "

Greg knew it and he understood it. His years in England were among the best, but he had always regretted having had to leave the USA to live properly. Ed had come on vacation. The chance or God had made cross their roads and since, Ed had lived in the USA. Shortly after Greg's first World Cup, Ed had even been naturalized American, wanting to do away with the administrative hassle of being a simple resident. He loved his adopted country, but Greg knew it. Ed wanted to rest in France when the time would came. Mark continued.

" Moving is expensive, especially from one continent to another. And it is not at our age that we will be able to have an interesting loan, even with the money from the sale. Ed left all behind. His friends at the time, his job, to come and live with me. I wish I could return the favor, that's fair. "

Greg was looking down, thinking quickly.

« Oh, if that's just that ..."

He walked over to a shelf and picked up his leather satchel. Greg opened it, avoiding thinking about his past where he had considered this kind of cover as proof of the aging and spoiling of the individual. He had had one for a while and it was a lot more convenient though. Young people are so stupid, often...

Greg grabbed a bunch of keys and threw it on the table, the game making a loud metallic noise.

" What's this ?

- My keys.

- The keys to what ? "

Greg picked up his bunch again to show the keys better.

" Eh, from my house.

- Your house ?

- Not the one from here. My house in the Basque country. "

Mark and Ed were looking at him, seeming not to understand.

« Come on, you know when I arrived in France, I fell head over heels in the area. I bought a house there and had it repaired for myself later. And Fred, of course. "

Mark looked around, seeming to finally notice someone absent.

_« By the way, where is he ? _

- He's in San Francisco. A contract problem to be resolved personally. He's due to arrive tomorrow. We will then leave for Scotland.

- To do what ?

- We're going to see my mate Frank. It will probably be the last time. He resisted the filth that gnaws at him much more than expected, but we must be clear-headed. He is dying.

- The poor.

- There's nothing we can do about it. "

Greg shrugged. He seemed flippant but his parents knew it was a way for him to fight misfortune.

Greg put the keychain back on the table.

« Anyway, why not settle there ?

- What do you mean ?

- You settle there. The house has rooms you don't know what to do with. It was a former inn house, there are like eight ten rooms. Enough to accommodate us and to settle there too.

- What do you mean ?

- Ah, you are not going to do this to me. It is a service that I render to you. I can barely go there, as much as it serves you too. I do not rent, I do not give, all that remains with me, I invite you to it the time that you want. "

Greg took turns standing in front of his parents.

" You welcomed me when I was kicked out of my home. I can return the favor to you, so I do. Come to my place but be careful, me and Fred are keeping the biggest room... "

Mark and Ed were looking at the keychain again. It was envious, but Ed was suspicious.

« Isn't there a dirty trick ?

- Come on daddy you know me.

- Exactly... "

Greg chuckled a little.

" Well, that will also allow me to save a little on the guarding, I admit. And then the garden is large and closed and Fred and I are always naked there. You'll have to get used to it. "

Mark looked at his son knowingly, then at Ed.

He already had the keys in his hand. Mark could only agree.

&

Greg and Fred had settled in the backseat of the Ford which meandered through the streets of the village. Greg knew this car well, he bought it to be able to move easily in these landscapes which hardly knew the existence of public transport. The car drove on the narrow roads, between whitewashed houses, with walls sometimes reinforced with beams. It emerged on the village square where it passed in general indifference in front of the granite church with the flattened facade, the two bells embedded in openings overhanging the facade without a bell tower. Samuel drove carefully and moved away from the square, leaving the village itself and joining a dirt road which branched off from the departmental road. He only walked a hundred yards or the car finally found a large opening in the dry stone wall, now driving on the private road. The ground was a little bumpy but the road remained flat. The green grass was still short and the many trees were slowly filling with their new leaves. Several cars were lined up along the white wall, probably those of the villagers and friends of the couple. Fred looked at Greg. His face was even more closed. He got out of the car without a word and walked towards his house.

Rectangular and with a floor, the white facade, a balcony following the side. Each window was highlighted by a row of exposed and irregular hewn stone, the dark wood of the shutters contrasting beautifully with the lime. The black roof featured a similarly colored satellite dish to blend in with the background. On the other side of the house, a piece of land was separated from the rest by a small wooden fence, made even more private by a country hedge that circled the property completely, making the plot impossible to observe from the outside. However, the nearest neighbor was still a hundred meters away and around, it was only pastures, fields and forests that extended on the first slopes of the hill where a forest path made its way.

Greg moved to the front door, open, where whispers were heard. He entered with a heavy heart. Fred and Samuel followed.

Past the long hallway, Greg entered the living room. On the table there were some drinks and some cookies for the guests who had come to pay homage to the dead. Everyone recognized Greg, and all assured him of their support in times of adversity. Greg knew almost all of them and thanked them each in turn, walking slowly to the back where the couch had been moved. Above, the gray bear looked even older than before.

Ed was seated, his cane in his hands, his gaze lost on the ground. Greg showed up and knelt down, hugging his father, finally crying.

The two men would have been there for hours when Greg noticed the black clad rott. He smiled at him while Ed was busy receiving condolences from Fred.

Slender in stature, Luke could claim his parentage with Greg. Their faces were almost identical and they were sobbing similarly. Greg had lost his father and Luke his grandfather. A crowd movement, and two teenage girls appeared. Dressed in dark, Greg took turns hugging Mary and Jessie, Luke's daughters, who were trying to comfort Greg as he returned the favor. Greg looked around him.

" Melody is not here ? "

Luke shook his head.

" No dad. Her doctor forbid her any travel. You know, dad, the two lil demons she's carrying barely gave her any kind of rest these days. She would had liked to attend.

  • I know that. It doesn't matter. No one will blame her for that. »

Greg and his son continued their conversation in English. Samuel was looking around him. He was not there, it seems. He could understand it but it frustrated him a bit. He noticed the presence of a young teenager. 13 years old, or hardly more, a gray wolf already a little muscular. He walked over to him.

« Hey, Bixente..."

The boy looked around, then focused on the adult tiger.

« Tu n'as pas vu mon fils ? »

"Haven't you seen my son?"

The boy shook his head.

« Non, je crois qu'il est dans sa chambre. »

"No, I think he's in his room. "

Samuel understood. He had been there when Mark died, practically in front of his eyes. He knew the boy a little and it didn't surprise him to see him come to the vigil. Bixente often came. Very often. And when he wasn't coming, he knew his Cody was spending a lot of time playing in the village or on the rugby pitch with him.

Greg started to walk down the hall. A grizzled bull clad in blue caught his eye. He smiled softly at him, a smile that was answered the same way. The individual wore a dark blue uniform trimmed with three stripes. A dark blue rectangular plastic plaque displayed « Amegui " as his identity. His horns were short, but thick, and they displayed no hostility despite his profession.

"Capitaine ..."

« Captain... »

The latter gave him a hug.

« Greg. Je suis désolé pour ton père. »

"Greg. I'm sorry for your father. "

The bull seemed genuinely affected. Greg wasn't surprised. He and his father had become friends after the latter's arrival.

« Merci.

" Thank you.

- Toute la brigade de gendarmerie se joindrait bien aux funérailles mais je ne peux pas laisser le pays sans surveillance, tu dois le comprendre.

  • The whole gendarmerie squad would join in on the funeral, but I can't leave the country unattended, you have to understand.

- Complètement, oui. Et personne ici n'en demande autant. »

  • Completely, yes. And no one here asks for so much. "

Greg then looked down the hall. He knew the time had come for him. Antonio Amegui understood this and with a nod of his head he released Greg.

The soldier then approached the young wolf from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy looked behind him, automatically smiling at the gendarme.

"Hey, Bixente. "

The boy nodded. Antonio smiled back at him. He looked around, and, satisfied with their relative isolation, he asked the boy friendly questions.

« Tu vas bien, gamin ? »

« Are you okay, kid ? "

Bixente nodded, slowly, timidly. Antonio understood why. He kept a quiet voice and tone.

« C'est triste pour ton grand père.

" It's sad for your friend's grandfather.

- Je sais, aintzindari** . »**

  • I know, aintzindari. "

The officer smiles. He liked to see how the Basque language remained alive with the young generation despite the centralizing efforts of these madarikatu Frantziako , as he liked to call them when no superior was around.

« Tout va bien chez toi ? »

« Is everything okay at home ? "

Bixente nodded his head once again. But this gesture was slower, less sincere. Antonio understood it. Rumors circulated quickly in the villages. Antonio spoke still more quietly and more discretely.

« Tu le sais, txiki** . En cas de besoin, n'hésite pas. Nous sommes là pour te protéger si tu en as besoin. C' est notre devoir après tout. »**

"You know that, txiki. In case of need, do not hesitate. We're here to protect you if you need it. It is our duty after all. "

Bixente let see his defiant gaze, underlined by a sad smile. Antonio understanding the meaning of this look. The Basques were an ancient and proud people who shared with others an instinctive and visceral mistrust of any representative of authority, French or Basque. Antonio smiled, patting the top of the boy's head before walking away.

No longer being anyone's attention, Greg made his way to the last bedroom in the hallway. The door was open and Greg swallowed with difficulty before silently entering the room.

The window was closed but the curtains were open and the light flooded the place even though the sun was too high in the sky to enter directly.

The room was empty, the walls bare and dressed in old yellow wallpaper. In the center, a trestle and on the trestle, an open coffin. The cover was on the floor along the wall, simple in design and without the traditional crucifix. This did not surprised Greg.

He stepped forward with his throat too tight to cry. He could see the now inert body of one who had been one of his fathers.

Mark was dressed in a simple blue tracksuit. The very one in which he had officiated for decades in high schools and colleges where he had worked. It was worn out, threadbare. But Ed knew he wouldn't have wanted anything else. His face was calm, his eyes closed, the rings in place. Greg could have sworn he was almost smiling. Mark had lived a long life. He had disregarded himself for religion and was holding a rugby ball in his clasped hands. Greg recognized it. It was the one he had offered him in the locker room in Japan, the day he had allowed his team to qualify. The day he asked Fred to become his husband.

Greg put his nose on his forehead and gave in to tears, his hands on the cheeks of the deceased.

Greg drained himself of all his pain, lifting his head, being warned of another presence now. A young adolescent tiger stood in the doorway, hesitating. Greg motioned for him to come forward and he did so slowly. He moved to the left and buried his face in his chest to cry, occasionally looking at his grandfather.

« Il... s'est installé sur le canapé. Il voulait dormir un peu...Il...ne respirait plus quand Ed est venu le voir... »

« He... settled on the couch. He wanted to get some sleep...He...was not breathing when Ed came to see him... "

Cody burst into tears. Greg was trying to console him.

" He went slowly, Cody. It was... his time. That is all.

  • I loved him...

  • Me too, Cody. You were lucky. He's been with you longer than with me... You don't yet realize how lucky you were. "

Greg's hand caressed the teen's wet cheek. Samuel entered the room at this point. Cody saw him but he made no gesture, body or gaze, towards him. Sam was hurt. He must have hoped for something from his son because it showed in his face. He returned to Mark and kissed him in turn. He wept as much for his missing father as for his indifferent son. Greg was aware of the precarious ties between father and son. But this was neither the time nor the place to talk about it. Greg encouraged Cody to return to Ed.

Greg walked over to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder.

" Do you know than I'm jealous ?

  • Of what ?

  • You were lucky, too. You lived with him for about twenty years... I lived only about two years and an half with him.

  • I know that Greg. But it's not the time than matters. It's the depth of the relation than make a difference.

  • Sam...

  • Dad... never stopped to say how proud of you he was. I was happy for you but at the end... I'm afraid than it crushed me.

  • No one wanted that.

  • I know that. I never been envious of your skills, Greg. But in a way... I had to deal with the weight of your example. If you knew how much I loved him...

  • I know that Sam. Dad was always worried about you. If he didn't loved you, he would had never spent all those days and nights to worry about you.

  • I know too than I'm the only one to blame. I made mistakes, wrong choices. Sometimes I've been stupid enough to put the blame on others. But dad had been always behind me, even if it was to kick me in the ass. I will never thanks him enough for that.

  • You told him that ?

  • Not enough. »

Greg gave Sam a hug.

" The only thing I'm envious about you, is your relationship with your son. I know now than I... will never be a model for Cody.

  • Your son didn't had an easy life after his mother's passing.

  • And I couldn't been here for him when he needed me. I was a total ass.

  • Not fully...

  • I was Greg, I was. "

Samuel was looking at his father's body.

" I was fifteen when I got my girlfriend pregnant. I was stupid enough to do something like that. I tried to follow my father's path but I could only drown myself.

  • No one can succeed in everything.

  • Can you tell me what good I did, bro ? »

Greg thought about it, but remained silent to his chagrin. Samuel understood it.

" I fucked up everything, Greg. I hit the bottom the day I began to hit my wife. When I got released from jail, she made me understand than she didn't wanted to see me anymore. Never.

  • You spent a last night together thou.

  • The first thing she said the following morning was that it was a mistake. I can't blame her. I don't have that right anymore.

  • But you changed. It's already something.

  • True. My therapists allowed me to understand better myself and to behave better. But it's so few. "

Greg saw the suffering of his adopted brother. He wanted to help him. But in truth he could find nothing to say to him. Samuel kissed his father's cheek one last time before leaving the room. Greg bit his lip, and made the choice to follow him after a last tribute.

Samuel then went to the garden, Greg was a little worried about him. Samuel caught his breath, sitting on a bench in the sun.

" Wanna know what you did good ?

  • There is something ?

  • Yes. Your kids. "

Samuel sneered bitterly.

" My daughter lives among the horses in Montana. She's happier with her new family than with me.

  • You have a son too.

  • Barely. Greg, he's so distant from me than the last time I came, he acted as if he didn't spoke English ! I can't blame him too. I was aware of his existence three years ago ! If his mother didn't made that mistake and sent that e-mail to all her contact list, I would still don't know than he's existing... I tried to be here for him. But I failed.

  • I know. But you were man enough to recognize that and giving his custody to our fathers. Dad told me that. For the first time since a while, you made the right decision for the right reason. It worth, Sam. Not everyone could had done that. It showed than you could get back on the right path. You just need to have more faith in you. You should talk to him.

  • Why ?

  • He just lost someone he cared for a lot. He needs you. "

Sam was looking at Greg rather sadly.

" He needs a father yea. But I can't do it. What will become of him now ? Ed can't take care of him alone.

  • I know that. Ed can't live alone now. "

Greg took his place on the bench in turn, his face scarred, his hands clasped between his legs.

" I though about it in the plane and the train. I'll stay here. "

The news surprised the tiger.

« Are you staying ?

  • Yes. I'm almost 56, Samuel. I retired from rugby but I didn't wanted to get old. I love my job but it's harder for me now to just wake up in the morning. My body gives me payback for all my efforts of my youth. It's time to retire for good.

  • Really ?

  • I bought that house because of that, Sam. It's time for me to settle and live here. I will miss the States but it's the right thing to do.

  • And your husband ?

  • I don't know. You know, Sam, I think we're getting separated. For good. "

Samuel looked at his brother incredulously.

« But why ?

  • We're apart from each other since a while you know. It began with Karl, Fred best friend's passing. It hurt him a lot. Then his mother died in an accident in the home and his father got sick. Fred went back to Colorado to take care of him but after his suicide, he didn't wanted to come back home, without any explanation. He just said than he needed some time to think but for me it was just excuses. "

Samuel was somewhat stunned.

" I still love him you know. But... I can't. I can't wait for a moment who will maybe never come. I prefer to end that fast.

  • I'm not a good advisor, bro. But I can't believe it could be a good thing. You're together since so much time. I think you should talk about that first.

  • You believe so ?

  • Yes. I'm afraid it would be a huge waste, Greg. You're like dads. You have twin souls. Made to live with each other. Promise me something, Greg. Don't screw up things by mistake. I know how much we can destroy a love by mistake. It's all my life ! "

The two men remained on the bench. The guests were starting to leave. Cody left the house, followed closely by Bixente. The two young teenagers were going towards the private garden. Finally, Cody went to isolate himself and the wolf followed him despite the irritation of the tiger. Greg smiles.

" Hey, look at them...

  • I know. A planet and its satellite. Tied together but with enough space to avoid any disaster. "

Greg looked at Samuel who smiled back at him.

« I didn't imagine something then ?

  • Nothing. They're always stick together. You should see Cody's eyes when he's talking about his friend. It speaks for itself. But they must be discreet.

  • Why that ? I know than you will never have any problem about that.

  • Hopefully not. I was raised by two men I must remind you. No, that's Bixente's parents who have a problem with that.

  • Why I'm not surprised ?

  • They're strongly upset about that subject. Gods, you never heard them to talk about that.

  • I'm glad I didn't then. Another good reason to stay here then... "

Greg stood up, wiping his ass from the dust collected from the bench.

" Where are you going bro?

  • The nearby church.

  • For what ?

  • Dad never wanted to attend. I know than there will not be any service and I'll respect his will. But nothing will forbid me to plead for him. Dad more than deserved that. "

As Greg was leaving the property, Samuel stood up and took a few steps towards the house. He then heard the screams of the boys and soon Bixente was emerging from the garden, in tears, running to his bicycle lined up against a tree. Quickly, Cody was running behind him, trying to catch up with the boy. But the young wolf was already on his bike and was leaving before Cody could catch up with him. Cody stopped in place, short of breath, gasping in tears. He heard one last

" Gorroto zaitut ! "

which was not a good omen.

Samuel turned his head and walked on, his face low.

" I am sorry. But I can't take care of it. I can not. I don't have the strength. »

Samuel greeted the last guests who were leaving. There was no one left but the immediate family. Luke, his daughters. Fred too. Samuel greeted a stranger before remembering that he had just spoken to one of the funeral directors. The family began to tidy up the living room. Samuel was looking for his father and found him sitting in the room where Mark was lying. He was on his right, cane in hand as usual, looking at the now closed coffin. He heard Cody run crying into his bedroom before focusing on his grieving father again.

Samuel was standing behind his old father, who was rubbing a hand on the varnished wooden cover. He could hear the widower's quiet moans, which broke his already bruised heart. Ed let it go when it was time for the meal. Greg's return finally allowed everyone to eat. Cody came out of his room too, and he affected to show a face that was too harsh to be sincere. Few had an appetite, to be frank. Ed nibbled a bit before asking to go to sleep. No one objected and he asked Fred to accompany him. Greg was wondering, but he didn't protest, just saying hello to his old father for the night.

Fred was helping his stepfather walk down the hall. Ed was devastated. There was no other word. The hallway was at an angle before reaching the door to Ed's bedroom. He stopped, and looked at Fred sternly.

" Mark was my husband. He was even more than that. He was me, too. Part of me died when I realized he was gone, Fred. I know you lost your parents. It is a huge loss. Me, I never knew mines. But the death of the man we love... I have no more soul, Fred. This is what I feel. I no longer have a soul. It left with Mark.

  • I am sorry.

  • Mark loved you very much. It was not easy, considering what you had done to Greg. But he was smart enough to see who you were, despite what you had done. It is such a rare quality. When I think I almost never knew him.

  • Really ?

  • A life is made up of few things. If I hadn't been pushed around in this bar, I would never have seen him. I was leaving and he had just arrived... And I fell in love with him immediately. "

Ed then smiles for the first time in a long time. It did not escape to Fred. Just as he didn't escape the slap Ed had just given him.

Fred was surprised, his hand on his cheek. It hadn't been strong but it had existed.

" Hey !

  • This one is to behave like a fool. "

Ed's eyes were filled with something other than sadness.

" I'm sad like I've never been before. That doesn't make me blind though. Greg is out of reach and I didn't want to make a scandal in public, but he deserves one too.

  • What are you talking about ?

  • Of your childishness. "

Ed opened his door. It looked like all his passion had just disappeared again.

" I know things are going badly between you. But I refuse to see your relationship go down for nonsense.

  • But I...

  • There is no but ! "

Ed's voice grew firm again. Fred knew he had better let him speak.

" Tomorrow, the man I still love will be ashes. Nobody can do anything more. But for you, there is hope. You have two choices. Scoop up your boat and plug the leak, or let yourself sink with it. I have noted your behavior to both of you. Your ways of avoiding you, of not talking to you anymore. My life with Mark has been wonderful and I want, no, I demand, that my Greg has the same, and if possible with you.

  • I...

  • No, shut up you idiot. Life as a couple is not all about roses and honey. Sometimes there is rancor, resentment, and sometimes worse than contempt, indifference. The day I made Greg my son, I vowed to do everything to help him with his decisions. Things are going wrong between you, I see it. "

Ed had entered his room. A clean and bright place, an old hotel room with modern bedding and furniture. He slowly began to undress without restraint or modesty. His body had remained firm and broad, although he could no longer hide his pain in performing certain movements. He was looking at Fred sternly.

« Do you know what were my last words to him ? I told him not to sleep too much. Quite simply. But in that simple sentence, there was all the affection I had for him. I have known too many people who had argued before going out in a fit of anger, and seeing one of them die stupidly. Can you imagine how the other might feel when the last word to your loved one was a word of anger ? All the guilt the survivor can feel ? "

Fred didn't know. But he understood where Ed was going. He looked briefly at the door, towards a Greg still in the living room.

Ed himself was slipping naked under the sheets, lying on the bed.

" My son is here. Adjust this in speed. Whatever the outcome, don't let anything get in your way. Especially if it's just a few words. "

Fred could only agree. He promised to do so. Ed was starting to show his fatigue again. His own anger was now dissipated, and he knew the consequences.

" So look what you're forcing me to do. "

Ed smiles again. Fred liked to see him like this. He nodded.

" Rest, Ed. See you tomorrow. And I swear it will all be behind us. "

Ed seemed satisfied. He turned to begin to relax to fall asleep. Fred left, closing the door gently.

Fred looked invigorated. Greg and the others were getting ready to return to their respective rooms. Fred looked at him and motioned for him to come outside. Greg started by ignoring him. Fred stood in front of him, never taking his eyes off him, keeping a respectful voice towards the deceased still present.

" Come outside with me. We can also stay here to tell each other things but no one will like it, not even me. "

Greg looked at him curiously. He gave in.

« Since you insist, you might as well get it over with, right ? "

Fred didn't answer, going into the garden, near the gate leading to the private garden.

« So what do you want to talk about ? "

Fred had his back to him. His confidence seemed to have vanished.

" First I want to tell you that I thank your father Ed. He said words to me that I needed to hear. Then we have to talk. "

Greg shrugged.

" About what ?

  • There is so much to say. I do not know where to start.

  • Well can we talk about the fact that you pretty much left me ? That you evade my questions and that even in my presence, I still feel like I'm alone ? "

Fred accepted these justified remarks without flinching. Without showing it, he felt the sharp blades in his stomach. He didn't know it, but Greg was taking the same punches. Greg continued.

" Before we start in earnest, I want you to know one thing. I will resign. I am leaving the federation as soon as possible to settle here.

  • Really ?

  • Yes. I am retiring. A bit quickly, but I really don't have a choice. Sam will be leaving for the USA after the funeral, Luke for London and Ed can no longer be alone. Cody needs me too. "

Fred listened, surprised, understanding.

" I see. And I understand.

  • The Stansfield house is in both of our names. I'll sell you my share and we'll be done with it. "

Fred understood the implication. He sat down on the bench, looking down to the floor.

" I understand, yes. It's a shame to end it like that. "

His voice was dreary. This had the effect of angering Greg.

« Pity ? Is that all it does to you ? "

Fred looked up. Greg saw Fred's wet eyes in the twilight. It was heartbreaking for him. He couldn't help but come and kneel in front of Fred.

" But why ? Why Fred ? Why have you left me all this time without any explanation ? Why treat me like a stranger after all this time together ? "

Greg was holding Fred's arms. The latter understood that despite his words, Greg still cared about him. It helped him finally talk about what was gnawing at him.

« Because I'm scared, Greg ! "

Greg looked at him, his hands still in place. Fred stood up and pulled away, turning his back, gasping a little.

« Because I love you and I don't want harm to happen to you !"

Greg saw Fred cry softly now.

« Why would such harm happen to me ? "

Fred turned around.

« Because that's all that's happening right now, Greg ! Everyone is dying around me ! My parents ! Karl ! Frank ! It reminds me of my time in the army, Greg, when the men who became my friends would went down like ninepins ! "

Greg pursed his lips. He remembered that painful moment for his husband, yes.

" I love you Greg. I've always loved you but I can't stand the thought of watching you die. That's why after Karl's death, I wanted to get away from you. It only got worse after that. Mom. Frank. Dad and now Mark ! "

Fred couldn't hold back his tears. Greg could only do one thing. Standing in front of him and hugging him, his nose on his shoulder, let his husband finally empty himself. He also felt great guilt.

So that was it. Fred didn't walked away out of disdain or annoyance. Greg was ashamed of it. It was just that. A stupid misunderstanding that could have been resolved with some few words. It made him hug him more tightly, stifling Fred's sobs. He sighed.

" Fred... I won't swear to you that I won't die. It's impossible. "

Fred knew it, but the idea still hurt him.

« Tell me big idiot... How would leaving me make me an immortal ? "

Fred couldn't stop a smirk from appearing.

" I thought I left that behind. This fear. But it looks like there was actually still some under my shoes... "

Greg smiled back, breathing Fred in for the first time in so long. Fred did the same. He found the warmth that emanated from the body and heart of his husband, breathing more calmly.

« And then... At least I thought that getting away from you would spare me this pain...

  • When I think I thought you got bored of me ...

  • Is that why then ?

  • Why ?

  • That you shut yourself up ? That you have become distant ? "

Greg pursed his lips. Without realizing it, the couple had locked themselves in a vicious cycle where isolation and resentment fueled an infernal boiler that was about to explode for nothing.

« Were you serious ?

  • What about ?

  • Do you want to stay here ?

  • I have to.

  • Is that the only reason ?

  • Well I admit it, I wanted to. Need too.

  • Really ?

  • Yes. My joints are not what they used to be.

  • This house is very large.

  • May be too much.

  • Do you want to sell it ?

  • No way.

  • Do you ... think there's a room left ?

  • No. No vacancies.

  • Really ? "

Greg smiles, relaxed, still hugging.

" If you want to stay, you'll have to share a lot of things.

  • As ?

  • Not much. Your life. Your feelings. Your fears too.

  • Do you think I could do it ?

  • I want to anyway.

  • Who should I share it with ?

  • Well... A widowed nurse, a barely pubescent wooden head.

  • That's all ?

  • A former sportsman too stupid to get caught in a preventable misunderstanding.

  • Is it a limited time offer ?

  • Only until the end of a life. It is not negotiable. "

Fred smiled even more.

" Retirement, eh ?

  • Yes.

  • Do you think there is room for one more retiree ?

  • Are you leaving your job ?

  • I have to organize myself a bit, but if you can handle a few days of absence for paperwork...

  • I think I can.

  • So I chose the former sportsman who is too easily taken in by his own phobias.

  • And I chose the old soldier stupid enough to believe he's some kind of god. "

Fred was starting to chuckle, still in Greg's arms.

" I'll have to thank your father.

  • Ah yes ?

  • Yes. Without him we would be settling the terms of the divorce. "

Greg nodded.

« That's all daddy, yes... We can do it now.

  • No, he has to sleep. We will do it tomorrow.

  • You are right. Come. It is starting to get chilly. "

Fred looked around him. The hills were now sinking into the pitch black of the night and the temperature outside was becoming downright hostile. It was time to go home, hand in hand.

In the darkened room, the old bear was lying naked under the sheets. He could only hear the vague noises coming from a conversation nearby. He did not understood the words, too weak. He just felt the deep tenderness the two men were diffusing around them. It soothed his hurt soul a little. His breathing became lighter, slower. His heart was beating slower, more calmly. And the more the hours passed, the slower his breathing and his heart were, a thin smile on his lips. He had felt over the last few days that his soul had been torn from him and his body was nothing but empty. He no longer felt that impression. He was no longer alone. He was...

Reunited.

Fred opened his eyes. The room was still dark, the light filtering only through wooden shutters. Fred had always wondered before why the French had preferred shutters to curtains or Venetian blinds. The first times he slept here, he understood. At dawn and dusk, the shutters offered better light insulation. Waking up seemed more natural to him like that.

There was also that little extra charm of hearing the sound of the heavy rain on the closed shutters at night. Sitting next to his husband, hand in hand, in front of a wood fire. It was a time for calm, for reflection and finally, for love. Fred smiles to himself. The French had decidedly done everything to increase the opportunities to make love. Their reputation was not usurped.

He took his watch and looked at the time. A little less than eight. He smiled and silenced the alarm before it went off. It had taken him years, but Fred had regained his superpower. He pushed back the sheets and put his bare feet on the floor. He looked at the back of the sleeping rott on the side, snoring heavily. After all this time, he was finally warm when he got up. Ideally a perverted evening would have been fine, but Mark was resting few rooms away. Fred got up and went to the door naked, getting ready to go out, turning around and putting on shorts and a t-shirt, remembering in time the presence in the house of his grand daughters.

A slight smile on his lips, he went to the still empty kitchen. He opened the shutters and began to make coffee, the most requested and most vital drink of the moment. The coffee maker was starting to do its job when Samuel walked in, as awake as Greg seemed. The customary greetings were not long in coming.

« The funeral directors come at what time ?

  • Eleven. They'll take dad to the crematorium. We will collect the... "

Samuel paused, a hand over his eyes, letting a few tears escape before continuing.

" It's windy today. It will be ideal.

  • Where will it... be done ? "

Fred tried to stay neutral in his words, avoiding uttering words that might sadden those around him even more. Samuel understood it and he thanked Fred internally.

" On the hill. Dad has always loved this place. And from there we can clearly see the Pyrenees. The wind is blowing from the north, that will be ideal. "

Samuel kept his head down and busied himself with taking out the bread, the eggs that Fred began to cook. The bacon would come next. Samuel prepared two bowls for his nieces, hoping it would not be in vain. The wafer of salted butter was put on the table.

Salted butter. Another incongruous idea for all those who were not French. But Fred had to admit that this surprising mixture had certain taste qualities.

One by one, the other occupants joined the kitchen. Greg first, whom Fred immediately sent back to his room to dress, being naked as usual. Fortunately his grands did not appear until later, when Greg was decent. Luke joined the group last. We should probably go find Cody, which surprised no one. On the other hand, the participants were able to observe the great change in the behavior of the spouses between them. It became obvious to everyone that Greg and Fred had settled their disputes. The family was relieved.

Soon the bowls and plates emptied. Only the place setting for Ed was left clean. Samuel looked at the steel clock hanging on the wall before deciding.

" I'll go get him. I think he will want to stay with him for a while longer. "

It was not necessary to identify the person in question.

On the way, Samuel passed the door and hesitated. Maybe his father would like to be alone with him one last time. But if he got in first, Samuel didn't know if he would have the strength to keep his face neutral. Samuel also wanted to see his father alone one last time. He opened the door to the bedroom. He took a deep breath, seeing the coffin closed. A tear in his eye, he entered, going to the head, stroking the wood and placing a last kiss on his father's inaccessible face.

" I love you dad. I always did and I'll always do. Thanks you and I'm sorry for everything. "

Samuel straightened up, caught his breath, swallowed back tears and closed the door before knocking on Ed's room.

Nothing. Samuel shrugged and opened the door. The room was in a strong twilight, being on the opposite side to the rising sun. He could just see his father's shape in the bed, and nothing else. He turned on the light.

A brief spark and the room fell back into darkness. Brunt lightbulb. Samuel mumbled a curse.

" Hello dad. It's time. I'm gonna open the shutters, will you ? "

Samuel entered, and guided himself a little with his hand to reach the window, passing in front of the occupied bed. He opened it and the morning sounds of birds and cattle came in. Samuel opened the shutters and a bluish glow entered the room. Samuel looked out, his hands on the ledge.

His gaze was fixed on the outside, insensitive to the cool breeze that entered the room. Samuel was breathing calmly, smiling.

« You know daddy, I remember the first time I was here. It was a little before my divorce. It was the first time that I had come to France. My brother was right to insist that you come here. France is smaller than the US, yes. But it's more... familiar. Better in every way. "

Samuel was smiling, still facing the outside. He could see fragments of the departmental road, leading to the village proper, the wooden poles which held the electrified plastic wires, a tree from time to time which did not yet bear enough leaves to form green spots in the distance. Then the first houses of the village, white and in the background, the church or almost no one left on a regular basis.

Samuel was enjoying the view. The landscape looked like his life. Simple and narrow. A bumpy horizon and further frankly elevated, even covered with snows that never melted. It was a marvelous sight, which made up for the lack of local entertainment and warmth in winter, although seasonal snows were also becoming increasingly rare than anywhere else.

" You gave me so much. I regret so many things that I have done or said. I wish I could go back and change anything that hurt you, dad. "

A thin stream of tears flowed from his right eye.

" But nobody can do anything about it. You can just learn and not make those mistakes again. "

This observation made him wonder about the garden scene. Samuel felt his remorse grow.

« And I'm doing some again, daddy. My son loves this boy and he is loved in return, but they just can't handle their feelings yet. I never knew how to manage mine, or so in the wrong way. I'm scared daddy. I'm afraid of doing wrong. What is the worst daddy ? Do nothing or do badly ? "

Samuel turned, now seeing his father lying on the bed. His tears seemed more visible.

« I want to be able to count for him dad. I want him one day to show me to his friends and tell them what I have done right for him dad. To help him become someone better than me dad. "

Samuel faced the landscape again. His tears were streaming down now. His voice grew louder, more hesitant, and lost its cohesion. He even sniffed.

" You did everything for me. Both of them and I missed it all dads. I just want you to be proud of me dads someday. I love you both, dads. "

Samuel turned around for the last time. He saw Ed, lying on the bed, as he had gone to bed the day before. Left hand open, palm up. The right arm along the body. His mouth half open, his corners raised in a sincere smile, his eyes closed.

Samuel had known it when he opened the door. He had understood before opening the shutters.

The one who had been his father was not lying.

He was resting.

It was his cries and tears that warned the others.