Page 12 - My FlipBook

LACY: Go back, Billy. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m
going, too.

Lacy looks at Sam’s grave, hoping to see his face. Billy
is attentive, but it’s Sam she needs. Reluctantly she returns
underground. Billy returns to his grave.
High overhead there is a helicopter sound. The last
light of the evening fades.
After several long minutes, Sam emerges halfway. It
isn’t midnight yet. He looks out at the quiet graveyard,
wondering if Lacy is sleeping, if she’s alone.
He takes out his pencil and journal and writes without
stopping.

Dear Lacy,

Fear is a crippling disease. It has paralyzed my feet when
I should have stepped forward. It has withered my hand when I
should have reached for yours. Yet fear is also the firm push at my
back. If I don’t act now, I will forever regret my cowardice, and we
both know what forever means.
Three days ago when the bells tolled, I woke, believing that the
night would unfold as all the others had, and then Raven spoke your
name. How conflicted I was, for your arrival brought immediate joy
to me and sorrow to you. With every passing second, my affection
for you grew. How, in such a short time, can feelings blossom so?
Truthfully, I do not know. All I know is that my love for you feels
miraculous—a garden springing from a parched desert.
Yes . . . I will say it . . . I love you, Lacy.
Is this confession wise or ridiculous? I cannot begin to parse it.
The attention from Billy Bodley and your sweet gazes back at him

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