Epilogue

In August we had our family reunion, the first one in four years that felt complete. It was a huge party too, for Dad’s return, for Maggie’s commencement of college, and the celebration of a cousin’s thirteenth birthday. It was a scalding day, cerulean-skied and cloudless, tolerable only with the dry wind out of the southwest. We drank lemonade by the gallon, and our dog Jas and several of my cousins planted themselves under the cool spray of a mister.

I sat with Dad and Damian under the old magnolia, Dad with his mint julep and Damian and I sipping icy pink lemonade. We weren’t talking – we still had a hard time not talking to each other in the tongue of Arah Byen. So we sat in pleasant silence under the dark magnolia boughs, watching the happy chaos around us. My cousins started a water balloon fight, accidentally breaking one over the table of salads. Two of my uncles were grilling bratwurst on the grill, but no one complained when the salads got splashed or two of the sausages burned. It was one of those happy days when nothing could go wrong, when we laughed at every silly accident because there was no point in getting upset.

Dad went to help with the grill, and a moment later Damian went into the house to get something for one of my younger cousins. I felt no inclination to move. I leaned against the tree trunk, smiling briefly for Maggie who was taking pictures on her new camera. She must have taken over a hundred pictures already, acting as self-appointed official reunion photographer. After a while she dragged an older cousin over to a table to review her work. They laughed over some of the photos, and crooned over others – probably pictures of my Aunt Celeste’s new baby. My cousin demanded one or two be deleted, and was indignant when Maggie refused.

“Oh, Mer!” Maggie called suddenly. “Come see this!” I got up and ambled over, hearing her say to my cousin, “I’ve discovered my hidden talent. I should be a photographer.” I joined them and she held out the camera. “That’s the one I just took of you. Awesome, right?”

I peered at the picture. I grimaced at first – Damian was the photogenic one, not me. Then my breath caught, and tears stung my eyes.

There, just past my left shoulder, was a shimmer of light.

Sneak Peek: Subverter (The Sequel to Down a Lost Road)