“The child stayed here, feeling the curse… The child was touched by the Creator, who turned his curse into a blessing… I prayed for that. Every night, every afternoon, and every morning, I prayed…and then prayed some more. That child was born with a special gift. His hands were gold. His hands were the sun. His hands could turn old, worn metal into skyscrapers and conduits, improve subways and lights that shine among the living. That sun could make a world out of a blank canvas… and beat life into it. His name was Zenith.
“Zenith is not a Mohawk name… It was not Iroquois at all. Zenith is the highest point one can reach. Nothing could touch him. The name fit. When he was born, I touched his hands… his little hands… and could see my hands in his, too… He would build, create. He would make music for the cities he fashioned. He would attract people to him. He had a good spirit… but the curse did not want to go away. The curse wanted to stay and prey on my Zen.
Zen kept playing, beating, and smiling… He smiled through the tears; he smiled through the hurt and embraced Paw’s legacy.
“He became withdrawn. He became distrusting. He became aware of the evils of the world. He knew the evil spirits by name. He used his hands to build walls around himself… impenetrable walls. I’d knock, but he would not let me in. I’d scream out for him, but he would not let me in. I knew I could not get in. But I would not stop trying. I prayed again for my Zenith. I asked the Creator to help him use his gift, to bring him joy, and a reason to tear down the walls. I knew that was the key to reaching my Zen. Use what he loves, so he’d get rid of the hate, and trust again…
“And the Creator saw fit to do so. And now, my work is done. Now… Degan’s legacy is intact. Now, Degan and Talise can rest in peace. Their curse is broken, the curse Degan brought… the curse through blood. But the blood healed their son, for I am Zen’s grandfather… and he has my hands… And he played my favorite song… and now, we have had our four seasons…”
Denise burst out in tears and leaned against the wall. She simply couldn’t take it anymore. But Zenith kept on playing that drum. He didn’t cry. He kept on playing that drum and smiling at Paw… How could he not? Paw would go home happy. What more could he ask for?
Soon, the room fell under the spell of a soft hush. Zenith gradually placed his drum down, while Paw slowly released the rattle, which dropped limply against his knee. Zenith took it and placed it atop the drum. He got to his feet and walked over to Denise, who wrapped him in her loving arms. Her warm, soft body felt just like Mawmaw’s, and he knew this was more than a coincidence. She kissed his cheek and looked up into his eyes. Smiling down at her, he kissed the scarf atop her head.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
She acknowledged his words, still crying. Tina came back into the room.
“His heart rate is dropping,” she whispered.
“I know… I know…” Zenith said.
Both women turned and walked away, while he sat back down beside his grandfather. He looked at him for a moment, then moved closer and pulled Paw to him, resting the man’s head against his shoulder. He held on to him, rocking their bodies, thinking of all the good times, the funny times they shared… but he said nothing.
The room grew a bit chillier, and he knew Mawmaw was there. She’d entered the dwelling and was ready to take her soulmate home. He could smell her perfume as she entered the bedroom, and her cooking, too. The faint sound of a drum beat—its rhythm in the far distance… and chanting… flute music… Zenith thought he may be hallucinating, but he knew better. The spirit was a powerful thing…
Zenith and Paw remained that way for several hours, hugging each other, keeping close, their hearts touching until, at 4:03 a.m., Paw was back in the arms of his bride…
When Zenith walked
out of Paw’s bedroom, he was greeted to a living room filled with family and friends. The band, the council, and a few co-workers, including Larry were all there. They asked how he was holding up. Some held tissues, others cried quietly. Zenith put up his hand and smiled.
“Don’t cry for Hiawatha Taylor. My grandfather is by the river, starting a new spring season. He has his bride, and he is still with us.” Silver rose from her seat, her eyes swollen and red, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He hugged her back, stroking her thick, coiled hair that smelled like strawberries. Others began to rise from their seats and walk down the hall to say their final goodbyes to Paw. Zenith stayed right there, holding his bride, soothing her, giving her comfort. Paw had given him the answers he’d always wanted to have, but never asked for. Paw gave him a gift that would last a lifetime, and beyond.
I’ll see you again, Paw… I’ll see you, and we will have another spring and play the drums, side by side…
E
pic…
That was the damn word of the day. Zenith sat in the funeral parlor while his cell phone blew up. Epic Record Label wanted Pure Grit, no ifs, ands, or buts. It was hard to get his mind in the game and keep it there, but he definitely tried with all he had in him. One woman presented a large, laminated booklet with all sorts of flowers, most of which were quite expensive, while a slender man with horrid coffee breath kept leaning close to him, discussing the programs and the options available.
All of this had been decided beforehand. He and Paw had discussed it in great detail when he’d brought him home from the nursing home. Zenith had recorded the conversation with his cell phone and got Paw to sign off on important paperwork, too. He knew what went where, and how it was supposed to be done. Paw had been quite specific. Paw wanted to be buried in fine clothing. To Zenith, Paw was a warrior, and this was a tradition. After the ceremony, he wanted to be cremated. He wanted his ashes spread in the river. And that’s what Zenith would do.
Zenith’s head was damn near spinning to the point of dizziness. He’d had an emergency meeting with their newly hired attorney and all systems were go. The contract had been negotiated well into the night until all parties were content. He was officially a signed artist, though he’d already understood a month prior that this was where they were headed.
Javier was keeping him abreast of the situation, play by play. The band had even sent a large wreath of flowers to his home, and kept offering to help. He immediately let Javier know he wanted him to be a pallbearer, along with Flip and Mike. They agreed with no hesitation. Zenith listened to the two funeral home employees rattle on, trying to sell him on bigger and better. He’d give a friendly nod every now and again as he stared blankly out the window. He watched the trees sway, taking notice of the tiny buds along some of the boughs. The first signs of spring…
It was still brutally cold, but the harvests were eager to show their stuff, let the world know they were on their way. His lips kinked in a slight smile as he gazed out that window, a sense of happiness warming his insides. He turned back towards the man with the coffee breath.
“Paw wasn’t really into all of this stuff. He would just want to keep things simple. So, as far as the flowers, simple yellow flowers, okay? He liked yellow. The obituary details I will have my wife draft up, and then they can be made.”
“Of course,” the man stated quietly.
“So.” He rose from his seat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take care of a few things. I’ve got your card, your email address. I’ll follow up soon.”
“Mr. Taylor, do you have what you wish for your grandfather to wear?”
“Yes, it is being taken care of. I’ll drop it off in an hour or two. Is that fine?”
“Yes, it is.”
He turned and walked out. As he headed to his parked car, he stole another glance at the berry buds on the trees.
Paw, I celebrated you when you were alive. I gave you your flowers when you were alive… My flowers were my love for you, and showing you how much you meant to me. We argued to show our love, too. It meant we actually give a damn. This funeral is just logistics; it’s for everyone else, just like you and I both agreed. It’s going to be a celebration, though. All I wanted was for you to feel how you made me feel, my entire life. And that’s ‘loved’…
Fran stood amongst
a barrage of taped up boxes, mostly acquired from the local bodegas she’d harassed. Silver appreciated her mother-in-law’s tenacity nevertheless. The woman had single-handedly packed up her entire apartment herself and was now prepared to move to New Jersey. She’d miss her greatly. Although David had linked them, the bond wouldn’t be broken. Stephanie Mills crooned ‘Home’ on the radio playing in the background.
“So, I just have a few things left in my bedroom, but that’ll only take like thirty minutes, and then I’ll be mostly done. Stayin’ in a hotel tonight and then on the road in the morning.”
“I’m going to miss you so much!” She gave the woman a huge hug and kissed her cheek.
“Girl, I’m just a train ride away.” She laughed as she navigated the boxes, then plucked a roll of duct tape from the top of one. “I heard you’d stopped by a couple of times.” She shot her a look out the corner of her eye. “Why didn’t you let me know?”
Silver shrugged. “I knew you were busy, and I was visiting my mother, so I just came over. It wasn’t planned or anything.”