Helen sat on a fallen log, waiting for Ollie to arrive. She’d come in bare feet so she could feel the loamy soil and walk through the cool stream now running through this place. It meandered in from between the redwoods—the tall trunks, bracken, and ferns making room so that it might pass through to the doorway at the meadow’s border.

The trunks that had once been the doorway’s base had sunk into the earth, and the passage had widened to let the stream through. A filigree that looked like wolf lichen decorated the jambs, accompanied by the engraved images of a deer and an otter.

The weapons that guarded the way were also still present, only larger and more refined. The spear, knife, and arrows radiated a deadliness that didn’t reflect the Ollie she’d known. Not like this.

He’d had it in him; she’d known that after meeting his grandparents and hearing his stories of them, but her Ollie had changed. And she had too, of course. The ultimate change, one might say.

She chuckled at the thought.

For this visit, Helen had chosen to appear as her sixteen-year-old self, wearing jeans and the old Bowie shirt she’d refused to get rid of all those years ago. On her hand was her wedding ring.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was funny what people clung to in life and in death. After this meeting, she’d burn the shirt, she decided. The ring… she’d turn that into a necklace she’d find in her next life. Ollie’s grandmother Catalina had told her that people could create reminders for themselves of the lessons they’d learned.

She’d learned a lot from Ollie and his struggles, just as he’d learned from her. They’d had a true marriage with all the associated ups and downs, and it was finally time to say, “It’s okay now. You can move on; you don’t have to feel guilty.”

The words were softly spoken but filled the meadow. There were no other noises—no birds calling, no wind blowing—just the peaceful stillness of Ollie’s soul.

For a while, she’d worried. The meadow had been roughly used, but things seemed well tended again. When she looked closely—as Catalina had taught her—she saw how thin threads of silver now ran through everything.

A moment later, the silver threads glowed to mark his arrival. For the first time, she heard the stream’s burbling. Ollie had gotten stronger again.

Helen thought he might come through the doorway he’d built to Diaksha, but the damned sentimental fool had instead chosen to arrive through the circle of redwoods nearby. He wore jeans just like she did, along with a white buttoned-down shirt. His hair was long now and braided.

Ollie had come to see her with glad yet complicated eyes. Helen stood to greet him, so that she could finally say goodbye.

Finis.