“Goodbye?”
She fell into the sea. I tried diving after her, but the waves kept thrashing and pulling at me, and every time that I started to dive down again a gigantic surge, like a breath, would push me back out of the deep. I tried calling for help—I ran back up to the lighthouse. I should say I tried. The moment I got back onto the shore, a pain started screaming up my thigh: I looked and there was a deep gash. I used my shirt as a bandage. I saw her floating away, but I could not say goodbye. I tried calling Isabelle. There was no answer. It just rang, and rang, and then—out of service. I paced back and forth. Up at the lighthouse, I still had my backpack. I slipped it on; there was an empty feeling in my stomach. I knew there was no going back.
I took out my map. I wandered into the wilderness. I had always wanted to go to the Sky Islands, the Strawberry Mountains, those unseen hills, to see those Paradises. The migrating birds. I followed the pathways laid out through the desert. The roads were red; there was no forgetting where I came from in the wilderness.
Night after night, I slept.
The stars came out. In my dreams, I thought I saw my Dad again. He was still back home. He was sitting at the kitchen table, writing a poem
there are many Paradises, but there’s still no place like home
Home. I rose up again. It still seemed possible. If I could just go back the way I traveled, maybe I could find my way back home. Maybe this had all been a dream. Maybe my parents were still alive again, sitting up at home, waiting for me, smiling, maybe I wasn’t actually dead, maybe, all my troubles had been part of this elusive dreamscape…
I drank water from a hole in the ground, a crack. I saw a bolt crack the mountains ahead of me. And in that riven space, I saw a crack—a light in front of me. Could it be? I ran closer. I thought I saw my hill. No—it was my hill. It was round and green, with a small white house on top, like a castle—
and I could have sworn I saw Dad pacing back and forth. He was looking in and out, through a window—and I could have sworn I saw his eyes flash, and saw him say, I was afraid of that, and I looked more closely, and now he was heading back away from the window, to the kitchen, up the stairs to the bedroom, and reaching under my bed for the telescope, and bringing it down to the first landing, and now, he was looking into the very heart of me. I felt it beating. My own heart beating, and I turned away, and started running, and the mountains popped up all around me, and I started beating my head into the ground, until I was all black and dusty—
and I turned back around, and looked at the direction I was heading. The green hill had fallen away. It was slowly disintegrating. I decided to face my father. He would tell me what my mother could not. I started running again, with a purpose, over the mountains, across the desert, and reached the base of my hill. I was heading up to the light. I saw all my friends, my distant memories, passing me by, and reached the top.
But it was no light.
It was only a small satellite.
I walked back down, and watched the hill rise up again to touch it, then slowly die. Its green faded away, back into the red landscape. It wasn’t even a satellite. They were just those blinking red antenna towers. He sat down. I sat down. I started writing a letter. I didn’t know if it would make it anywhere. I sent it to my father. He, I, I, Ishmael, sent it to my father. I walked back into town. I dropped it at the post office. I grabbed my backpack. I walked again through the forest, into the red desert. I stood in front of those blinking antennas, far distant. I knew what I had to do. I have to rescue them. I’ve killed them.
The stars have gone out. So have you, mama, so have you brother, so have I. But I must still walk the Earth; I must deal with the consequences of my actions the crashing planets of my thoughts, but I I am empty. I am alone. I wish I could turn ack. But you are gone, all of you, and then silence in the desert says I killed you. The ground is strewn with the salt of your bones and the dust of your blood. I turn and my green hill is gone, my white kingdom which crowned the world, and I see you standing there, Dad—and tell you I am sorry. If I were your little boy again, I might have hope. If I still had my innocence, I would return to you. But I have become what every little boy fears—a man. Nothing greater, nothing smaller, I am less than a star. I am the darkness destroyed by the lighthouse.
I’ve killed all of them. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t keep looking up at the stars like this. I need answers. I need some answers. I need them all now. Why is the sand blowing through my fingers, why can’t I catch anything?
The forest is ahead of me. Maybe that will hold answers for me. Yes, through the forest, that will tell me everything. legs, don’t give out on me.
Ah. It’s so nice and warm in here. No, it’s so cold.
I looked up and saw the green stars sparkling. I saw the comet flash, and thought I saw my Mom looking at me. I rubbed my nose. It’s so, so cold. I know I have to keep going.
So this is it.
The cliff.
Maybe this is where I meet my destiny.
Maybe this is where I find out everything.
And the boy, Ishmael, started raising his arms—no, I started raising my arms—I looked ahead of me—and just as I was about to jump—the wind swept me off my feet, and I fell into the sea.
Austin Diamond 