Thirty-One Letters

Twenty-Seven

Not a day goes by that I don't look at your picture and smile. Or cry. Or both—Dean Jackson

A white stretch of sand loomed before her. No end in sight, no distinguishing features. Just endless sand. Her toes curled into it, soft and pliable and warm. She could feel the heat of the sun on her face and somewhere to her right there was the slight lapping of waves falling against the shore but when she turned, she saw nothing. Just more sand. Endlessly stretching out in all directions.

There was a pull dragging her forward so she started walking without knowing why. Walked and walked and walked. Didn't see anything except that sand. Didn't hear anything except the invisible waves. And still she walked.

And then—

In the distance. A speck.

She moved towards it, pushing through the sand. Even as it got heavier and thicker, even when she was wading through it –the sand almost up to her waist – she kept moving. It seemed as if that speck was moving farther as she walked. Seemed as if she would never reach it with the weight of that sand pressing down on her, trying to hold her in place and keep her from getting to where she needed to be.

Until suddenly the sand was gone. A small trace amount remained, enough that she could walk along it. Her toes still dug into it but the amount left was so minimal, so inconsequential, that she didn't feel encumbered by it anymore. There was a slight resistance but nothing that she couldn't handle.

She didn't even realize that the speck loomed before her and it wasn't a speck it was –

"Hadley."

It was her brother and he was smiling at her. Sitting on a piece of driftwood staring out towards where those invisible waves were—

Hadley turned her head. The waves had materialized – seemingly out of nowhere. She watched them crest and fall, crashing against the shoreline.

"Sit," Tanner said. "The waves are beautiful. Sometimes I like to just sit here and watch them."

She plopped next to him, ran her fingers across the coarse driftwood. It felt real. All of it felt real. And yet...Yet she knew that her brother was dead. That he was – that this was not real. It couldn't be.

But that smile on his face was the same she remembered. Soft and subtle.

"How are you – how is this...?"

Tanner just shrugged. "How is anything possible, Had? It just is."

"Please don't turn philosophical on me right now."

A laugh. Bright and young. It echoed around her and Hadley realized that she hadn't heard her brother laugh like that in a good long while. "Sorry. But it's the only answer I have."

Hadley stared at him – just stared. Memorizing every detail. Every line and plane of his face. Each freckle, the way his mouth turned at the corners, the solid line of his brow, and the sweeping arch of his cheeks. And when he turned his eyes on her, she memorized those too.

Not the shape or colour. Those eyes were her eyes. Familiar. What she was memorizing was the emotion in his gaze. The laughter and the life that were reflected back.

"Are you...happy?" Hadley asked in a small voice.

"Yes." Tanner reached out to grab her hand. His palm touched hers and Hadley jumped from the contact. She had almost expected his hand to go right through hers. Had thought it to be some sort of illusion. "Yes, I'm very happy now."