Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Cael was stiff as a board beside me. It was the hardest part of everything for him, letting his brother go. Letting go of the candle representing Cillian on the Ganges truly hurt him. This, I knew, would be no different. I leaned my head against his arm just trying to offer him some comfort.
“After the tsunami,” Mia picked up where Leo had left off. “Many of the townspeople began randomly turning up at this garden, to the phone booth to say the goodbyes they were robbed of. Just like so many of us are. Fatal accidents, quick illnesses … suicides …” Mia said, kindly and carefully. “There are no goodbyes. No chance to say all that we wanted to say to our loved ones.”
In that moment I felt lucky. Because I had held Poppy’s hand and said my farewell. I had said all I needed to say to my sister. But Cael … many of my friends here, they didn’t get that goodbye. Didn’t get that closure.
“Not everyone will want to do this, and that is okay. But we have found, that especially for those who haven’t had their goodbye, speaking into the phone is beneficial to their healing. It can really help you say what you need to say to your lost loved ones, alone, and in total privacy,” Leo said. He smiled at us all. “We have brought you here today, on our very last exercise of our trip, so you can all say whatever you need to, to those you loved most.” I heard the sound of sobbing, of sniffling and gut-wrenching cries from my friends. But my gaze was locked on the phone booth. My hand gripped onto Cael like a lifeline. When I dared to look up at his face, he was ashen. His silver-blue eyes were wide and afraid.
I laid my head back upon his arm. He was cold, and his body trembled. “We will give each of you time to enter the phone booth,” Mia said. “Leo and I come here often with our groups. We have been fortunate enough to secure some private time away from the public for you to do this.” Mia moved to the side. “So please, if you want to and feel ready, enter the phone booth.”
Leo came over to Cael and said quietly enough for only us to hear, “You don’t have to do this if you aren’t there yet, son.” Cael nodded numbly. I honestly didn’t know what he would do.
A hand clutched onto my free hand. It was Dylan. When I looked down the line, I saw we were all connected. Lili, to Jade, to Travis, to Dylan, to me, to Cael. We had gotten here. Through tears and pain and agony and opening our shattered hearts to one another, we six had gotten here to this final exercise.
“We’ve gotten this far,” Dylan said to us all. We had. Together we had held one another up. We had done this side by side, wiping away one another’s tears and comforting each other when we broke. We had a bond forged in both grief and love. I knew I would be fused to these people forever.
Lili walked forward first, releasing her hand from Jade’s. I watched her, breath held, as she climbed the steps to the phone booth and walked inside. I lowered my head when she picked up the phone, knowing my friends were giving her the same grace.
The wind blew around the trees. Birds sang up ahead; the sound of slow waves hitting the shore and cars whizzing by on the busy road behind us created the ambient soundtrack. More importantly, it gave the person on the phone total privacy.
One by one my friends made their calls. Each coming out sad and drenched in tears … but seeming different somehow. Cleansed, revived—a cocktail of emotions. We retook hands to give ever-flowing support. And when Dylan returned to the line, cheeks red and eyes wet, it was my turn.
I glanced up at Cael, who tore his eyes from the phone booth to meet mine. “You can do this, Peaches,” he said, voice raw and hoarse.
I nodded, then released his hand. It was a metaphor, I thought. We could hold one another up, support and dry one another’s tears, but when it came down to it, our journeys with grief were our own. We were on our own. And we had to heal alone too.
Each step to the phone booth was a marathon. The heaviness of the door felt like it weighed ten tons. But when I was inside, the black phone staring back at me, everything grew quiet, and a sense of peace enveloped me where I stood.
With a shaking hand, I lifted the phone and brought it to my ear. Only silence met me.