It's Quite Hard Enough Just Living With The Stuff I Had Learned

[Gundham]

((Rebekah Hayes continued from Cambrian))

“Hey Dad, um… I don’t know if they’re going to actually show this, or when you're gonna see it… I’ve never watched one of these, but there are cameras everywhere so they’ve gotta be filming a lot of it, right?”

Rebekah’s grey-blue eyes peered intently at the camera. It was early morning. They’d been hiking since it got light enough to see, and by the time they reached the forest area there was a decent amount of sunlight, so it had felt like the right time to say what she needed to say.

It was hard to talk into the camera. She'd never liked having attention on her, and this was going to be broadcast to how many people? Millions? The lens was inscrutable, unblinking. But she could practically feel the millions of viewers on the other side, crammed up against the shiny black circle like sardines, trying to burst out of it and consume her. Everything she said and did, they'd pick it apart and dissect it for their amusement. She'd rehearsed this speech all through yesterday and last night, and twice more on the hike over here, but face with that cold, all-seeing eye, she found herself petrified. The words were escaping her. Nothing she could say would mollify the sneering. No. No! She had to keep going. Because somewhere on the other side of that camera was her dad. And what she had to say to him was important.

“I… I just wanted to say that I love you so, so much. I know that things were kinda sucky sometimes, but you were a really great dad. You were the best dad I could’ve asked for, and I’ve had a really good life. I… I know that you always want to protect me, and I just…” She cast about for the right words to say. “This wasn’t your fault, Dad.”

She settled into a morose silence for a few seconds. “Anyway, I… What I really wanted to say was, my car is parked in the school parking lot, and I left Puki in the passenger seat. Please, please, go get him. I’m worried that they’re gonna tow it away, and then he’ll wind up in the junkyard… You can bust the window if you need to, to get in… I…” Her voice came out really small, barely a squeak. “I just don’t want him to think I forgot about him."

The tears were welling up again. “I’m sorry. I know it’s dumb to worry about that. But, don’t… don’t bury him with me, or anything. Keep him around, okay? Talk to him, when you’re lonely and you miss me. He’s a good listener. You can... take care of each other, you know? I… I’m sorry. It's dumb. I'm sorry. I love you, okay? I love you and Mom, so much.”

A deep, shaky breath, and then she finished with one final thought. “And… when it happens… don’t watch. Okay? Promise me you won’t watch.”

She swallowed hard, and then turned away from the camera, hefting her bag onto her shoulder. But he would watch, wouldn’t he? He’d have to, even out of the corner of his eye. But somehow, that made it easier to take. Because whenever it happened – and it was going to happen – it would be nice to know beyond any shadow of doubt that someone would care.

Sometimes, that was all you could ask for. Well, that, and for someone to look after your teddy bear.

((Rebekah Hayes continued in My Father Told Me))