near Deschen’s garden, so he would be remembered at the place where our lives came full circle. I’m not sure what that means but we will honor his wishes. If you don’t want to go, you can remain behind. Would you prefer to stay here?”
I shook my head. “No. I want to go, but I need to find something more appropriate to wear to his funeral.”
Somehow I made my way upstairs and washed my face and hands. I walked into my closet and discarded several items of clothing. Angrily, I tore through my closet, ripping clothes off hangers and throwing them violently across the room. I shredded the plastic wrapping on new clothes, then wadded the skirts into balls and pitched them at the wall.
When that wasn’t satisfying, I started on the shoes. I picked out the heaviest and hurled them. They each hit the wall with a gratifying bang. When I ran out of ammunition, I used my fists. I punched the wall over and over again until I tore the skin across my knuckles. Tears streamed down my face, and I collapsed into a wounded heap on top of my pile of shoes.
A shadow fell over my body. “What can I do?” Ren asked. He sat on the floor of my closet and pulled me onto his lap.
I sniffed. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I can see that. Someone destroyed your closet while we were away.”
I laughed wetly and then sobbed. “Did . . . did I ever tell you about my parents’ funeral? I wanted to give the eulogy. I was going to talk about my mom and dad, but when the time came, I couldn’t say a word.”
His fingertips wiped tears from my eyes. “That’s a lot to expect of a traumatized teenager.”
“I wanted to do it. I wanted everyone at that funeral to know what great parents I had. I wanted them to know how much I’d needed them. How important they were to me. I wanted them to know that I’d loved them.”
He pushed the hair away from my sticky cheek and tucked it behind my ear.
“When the time came, I dissolved. I stood there staring at those two caskets and couldn’t say one word. They deserved more than that. They deserved to be remembered and loved and talked about, and I let them down.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have thought that.”
“That was the last thing I could do to honor them, and I screwed it up. I don’t want to do the same thing to Mr. Kadam.”
“Kells,” he sighed. “You honor your parents every day of your life. You don’t have to give a speech to show how much you loved them. They wouldn’t have wanted you to carry this burden all this time. They loved you. Kadam loved you too. You don’t have to say the right thing or wear the perfect dress. You honor them by living, by being the wonderful woman that you are.”
“You always know the right things to say, don’t you? Thank you,” I whispered as I clutched my shoes.
Ren brushed his fingers along my jaw and left.
I showered quickly and scrubbed my puffy, tear-streaked face. After I dressed, I wound my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck and headed downstairs. Ren and Kishan had showered and changed too. Both men were wearing dress shirts and ties, and even though we’d be in the jungle, their more formal clothes seemed appropriate.
Kishan drove us to the private airport that was a few miles from the house.
As we climbed into the old propeller plane, Murphy bent over his controls and said, “Kadam loved this old plane. It’s a Lockheed Electra 10E used in World War Two. He once told me that Amelia Earhart made her famous last trip in one of these.”
The factoid made me smile and remember how fond Mr. Kadam was of sharing every little detail of his mechanical toys. But my smile fell when I stole a glance at Nilima across from us. Mr. Kadam’s death had clearly affected her terribly. Her hair hung in tangles around her tear-stained face and something she had rubbed up against had left grease stains on her lovely white blouse. She rested her head, leaning back, and closed her eyes.
Murphy smoothly lifted us
I shook my head. “No. I want to go, but I need to find something more appropriate to wear to his funeral.”
Somehow I made my way upstairs and washed my face and hands. I walked into my closet and discarded several items of clothing. Angrily, I tore through my closet, ripping clothes off hangers and throwing them violently across the room. I shredded the plastic wrapping on new clothes, then wadded the skirts into balls and pitched them at the wall.
When that wasn’t satisfying, I started on the shoes. I picked out the heaviest and hurled them. They each hit the wall with a gratifying bang. When I ran out of ammunition, I used my fists. I punched the wall over and over again until I tore the skin across my knuckles. Tears streamed down my face, and I collapsed into a wounded heap on top of my pile of shoes.
A shadow fell over my body. “What can I do?” Ren asked. He sat on the floor of my closet and pulled me onto his lap.
I sniffed. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I can see that. Someone destroyed your closet while we were away.”
I laughed wetly and then sobbed. “Did . . . did I ever tell you about my parents’ funeral? I wanted to give the eulogy. I was going to talk about my mom and dad, but when the time came, I couldn’t say a word.”
His fingertips wiped tears from my eyes. “That’s a lot to expect of a traumatized teenager.”
“I wanted to do it. I wanted everyone at that funeral to know what great parents I had. I wanted them to know how much I’d needed them. How important they were to me. I wanted them to know that I’d loved them.”
He pushed the hair away from my sticky cheek and tucked it behind my ear.
“When the time came, I dissolved. I stood there staring at those two caskets and couldn’t say one word. They deserved more than that. They deserved to be remembered and loved and talked about, and I let them down.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t have thought that.”
“That was the last thing I could do to honor them, and I screwed it up. I don’t want to do the same thing to Mr. Kadam.”
“Kells,” he sighed. “You honor your parents every day of your life. You don’t have to give a speech to show how much you loved them. They wouldn’t have wanted you to carry this burden all this time. They loved you. Kadam loved you too. You don’t have to say the right thing or wear the perfect dress. You honor them by living, by being the wonderful woman that you are.”
“You always know the right things to say, don’t you? Thank you,” I whispered as I clutched my shoes.
Ren brushed his fingers along my jaw and left.
I showered quickly and scrubbed my puffy, tear-streaked face. After I dressed, I wound my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck and headed downstairs. Ren and Kishan had showered and changed too. Both men were wearing dress shirts and ties, and even though we’d be in the jungle, their more formal clothes seemed appropriate.
Kishan drove us to the private airport that was a few miles from the house.
As we climbed into the old propeller plane, Murphy bent over his controls and said, “Kadam loved this old plane. It’s a Lockheed Electra 10E used in World War Two. He once told me that Amelia Earhart made her famous last trip in one of these.”
The factoid made me smile and remember how fond Mr. Kadam was of sharing every little detail of his mechanical toys. But my smile fell when I stole a glance at Nilima across from us. Mr. Kadam’s death had clearly affected her terribly. Her hair hung in tangles around her tear-stained face and something she had rubbed up against had left grease stains on her lovely white blouse. She rested her head, leaning back, and closed her eyes.
Murphy smoothly lifted us
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