Abel

by Zack Metcalfe

  Epilogue

   

  I found a spot as central as possible in the valley, near the water, and with the best exposure to the sun. The soil was so loose and ready I was able to dig the hole with my hands, making it the perfect depth and width. Gently, I withdrew the pearls from my pocket, looking over their priceless beauty one last time. I wasn’t sure if giving them away meant I would never see my companions again. I didn’t think so, but there was no telling. Regardless, I ran them through my fingers one last time, smiling with contentment.

  Leaning forward, I set them at the bottom of the hole. Again I paused just to watch them. There was no need to be hasty. These pearls gave me friends, ones I hoped to keep. Once the drugs in my system wore off, maybe they would come back. I knew my family would. They will never leave me. I could only hope Robert, Mary and Jenna felt the same wave of forgiveness as I did. Only time would tell.

  With care, I lifted the apple tree from its cylinder, making sure not to lose any soil around the roots. The tree was getting too large for its container. The roots looked crowded, eager for more space. I placed it in the hole, being meticulous to scrub the roots gently free. I filled in the hole, giving it water as I went. Soon I was able to pack in the soil, and sit back to admire it.

  With a heavy sigh, I brushed the moist dirt covering my hands onto my pant legs, stood up and moved back a few paces.

  I whispered a quiet goodbye.