Chapter Thirteen
Saying Goodbye
“Excuse me,” Dr. Allen said as he stepped through the waiting room doors. He appeared to be in his mid thirties, with reddish-brown hair, a little grey starting at his sideburns and above his ears. He was wearing a long white doctor’s coat with a white dress shirt, and navy blue tie under it.
We were all gathered in the tiny room, my family had arrived about a half an hour earlier. William and I were pacing the center of the room, and the women sat huddled on the chairs. My mother stood up as the doctor approached. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Riley?” he asked, and my mother nodded. “Your husband has suffered a very severe beating, which brought on a heart attack. One of his ribs was broken and has punctured a lung. I’m so sorry.” The girls stood up and hugged my mother. All three broke out in tears.
I stared down at the floor while William walked over to the window, looked out for a few seconds then walked back. “What does this mean?” he asked the Doctor.
“It means we will make him comfortable, but because of his age, I don’t think he will survive the night. You all may go in and see him.” He opened the wide grey door, holding it for my mother.
Everyone followed behind her, but as I crossed the threshold, the doctor stopped me. “Only close family members, I’m sorry.”
To him I looked eighteen and obviously not the son of a sixty eight year old man. William stopped, and turned around. “He’s my son,” he said with a wink and smirk for me.
I shook my head at him, and then followed the others into the room.
It was hard to look at my father’s deformed face. He was lying in the large hospital bed, hooked up to machines that beeped loudly beside him,. The white blankets pulled up to his neck made him appear small and frail. This man did not look like my father, who was the strongest person I knew. He built an empire and stood by me when I needed it the most. I’m not sure another father would have done the same.
In an attempt to hide my tears, I leaned against the window playing with the curtains, trying to disguise my purpose, by actually doing something helpful.
“Is there a Nathaniel Riley here?” a nurse with a nametag that said Margret poked her head in the doorway.
My family, who were sitting in chairs beside the bed pointed to me. She handed me a note with my name on it. “It was in the pocket of his coat,” she said nodding to my father, and then she quietly slipped out of the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Everyone turned to me with curious expressions on their faces.
I opened up the folded paper and read aloud: “No one tells me what to do.
Don’t bother looking for me, I’ve left town. But I’ll be seeing you again, Rowan.”
After I found my father, I was so worried about him and the news that followed, that I forgot all about Rowan. I was responsible for everything, now this note brought back the guilt and anger. I ripped up the letter and threw it in the trash can beside the bed.
“What does that mean? Who is Rowan, Nathaniel?” my mother asked, approaching me.
I lifted my head, gazing into her hazel eyes. She was still quite beautiful for her age, her honey brown hair was now streaked with silver, and there were extra wrinkles around her eyes, but other than that she looked the same as she did thirty years ago. “This is my fault Mother. I should never have kept in contact with the family. If I hadn’t, Father would still be alive.”
My mother placed her hands on my face. “Don’t you say that. We are Rileys; we don’t give up on family. Tell me what happened.” She returned to her chair beside Mary, and took hold of my father’s hand, turning her attention to me.
I cleared my throat, hesitating. All eyes were on me, waiting for an explanation, the scene was too familiar. An image of a similar event from thirty years ago popped into my head. “A man named Rowan visited me about a month ago. He said he followed me home the night before.” I didn’t tell them that I had killed a man. I couldn’t take the disappointment on their faces. “He was a werewolf, and he was worried that if I killed people like he did, we would draw too much attention. I told him I wouldn’t be any trouble because I didn’t take human lives." I paused, feeling sweat forming on my forehead.
"After he left, I became worried he would cause trouble. I started watching for deaths in the newspaper, and I found four that were labeled as animal attacks. I knew it was Rowan, and I knew that the police wouldn’t be able to stop him. I decided to track him down. I found him in an alleyway just in time to prevent him from murdering a young girl. I told him to stop the killings or leave, and if he didn’t, I would find a way to stop him. So now, because of me, Father is going to die.”
My mother's sigh was heavy with the night's events. “It is not your fault Nathaniel. You did the right thing by trying to stop him. You can’t take responsibility for other people’s behavior,” my mother said, standing up and closing the gap between us.
“Nathaniel,” my father whispered. All our eyes turned to him as he struggled to sit up. William rushed over and helped him lean against the pillows.
My mother took my hand and guided me over to her husband. He motioned me closer with his fragile finger; I leaned in just above his head. “It’s not your fault. I’m proud of you,” he said so softly I barely heard him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and then slowly re-opened them. It seemed to be a struggle for him to stay awake. He glanced at each of my siblings with a tired smile on his deformed face. “I love you all. Each one of my children have made me proud.” Then focusing on my mother, he whispered, “I love you.” My mother didn't get a chance to repeat his words, before his eyes closed.
The machine stopped beating, and the screen above it showed the bumpy line turn flat.
“No!” my mother cried, jumping up and lying across him. “Philip please don’t leave me.”
William rushed out of the room to get help. He was only gone a minute when he returned with Dr. Allen. But all the doctor did was turn off the machine. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, patting my mother gently on the back, and then he walked slowly out of the room, leaving us alone with my father.
William and the girls huddled near the bed, saying their goodbyes. I walked back over to the window feeling empty. My father made me what I was. He wouldn’t give up on me when I wanted to. He saved my life. And now he was dead and it was entirely my fault.
“Don’t do that.” I heard my mother say.
I turned to see who she was speaking to. She was staring at me. She stepped slowly over to me, wiping the tears off of her cheeks, her honey brown hair falling into her eyes. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, you didn’t do this, any of this. You didn’t choose to be what you are. You didn’t hurt your father. And if you blame yourself, you are disrespecting his memory. He loved you and was so proud of you. You made something of yourself despite what happened. You could have given up and you almost did.” My eyes widened in surprise. She nodded. “Yes, I know what happened between the two of you the first night you changed. And if you try that again, you’ll have me to deal with.”
“Mother, what are you talking about?” Mary asked. She resembled our mother in so many ways, her hair and eye color, even facial expression, but Mary was much taller than her. She inherited that from our father.
My mother turned to her. “The first night-”she began.
“Mother don’t,” I said, not wanting my siblings to know what I tried to do.
She spun back around to stare at me with narrowed eyes, daring me to stop her. I knew when not to mess with her. I held my tongue and let her tell them the story.
She sat down on her chair and faced my sisters and brother. Not wanting to see their reactions, I stared out the window, watching the rain fall down heavily onto the buildings below. The streets were busy with people running for shelter, or their awaiting buggies and autocars.
“The first night Nathaniel changed, your father found him outside running into the woods, with a pistol in his hand. He was going to kill himself.” I heard three gasps, two female, one male. I turned away from the window and gazed down at the floor. “Your father pushed the gun away just in time, but the bullet went into Nathaniel's shoulder. It healed right before their eyes, as if by magic. Your father and I were always worried that he would finally find a way to finish what he started.” She turned from them, and looked up at me. “He was so proud of you. Please don’t blame yourself. I won’t stand for it.”
I nodded, still looking down at the floor. The dull linoleum was marred and aged. I heard footsteps, and then felt two sets of arms embrace me, and the smell of floral perfume told me that it was my sisters.
“Don’t ever try that again.” I heard Rose say, although her voice was muffled from her face resting against my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around them taking comfort in their warmth.
Together we joined hands to say goodbye to the man that we called Father, a man who meant something different to all of us.
My father was buried in Creekford. Most of the town’s people came out to show how much he meant to them. It was crowded and I couldn’t help but remember the last time I had stood in this graveyard thirty years ago. During the sermon I glanced over at Lucy’s grave and tried to picture her face. However, time was not my friend, and I couldn’t picture her in my mind.
William told the town's people that I was his son and had been away at university. His actual son stayed away so I could be there to say goodbye. Everyone remarked on the resemblance between me and the son that had died thirty years ago. Eventually after I left, my father had to tell people I died in an accident. There was no other way to explain my absence.
He was placed beside my empty grave. The other side was reserved for my mother.
Gradually one by one, my family members died. In my father’s will he had left the company to William and me. William was allowed to pass on his share to his three sons, but I was always to remain the silent partner. I became the Riley family secret.