“Like climbing the Hill,” Ky says, catching my eye and pointing to the flag.
”Yes,” I say, remembering the feel of his hand on mine as we tied the scraps to the trees to mark where we had been.
Beyond the City of Camas, the mountains rise blue and purple and white in the distance.
Ky and I climbed the Hill, together. Xander is in the mountains.
Even though Xander is gone, even though all cannot be as everyone would wish, there is satisfaction in knowing that something good and right and true was part of you. That you had the blessing, gift, good fortune, perfect luck, to know someone like this, to pass through fire and water and stone and sky together and emerge, all of you, strong enough to hold on, strong enough to let go.
I can already feel some things slipping through my fingers like sand and water, like artifacts and poems, like everything you want to hold on to and can’t.
But we did it. Whatever happens next, we managed to help find a cure and begin a vote.
The river looks alternately blue and green as it reflects grass and sky, and I catch a glimpse of something red swimming in it.
Ky leans in to kiss me and I close my eyes to better feel the moment of waiting and want before our lips meet.
There is ebb and flow. Leaving and coming. Flight and fall.
Sing and silent.
Reaching and reached.