Sam was still crouching by Cliff when Cliff reached out to him.
“But not you, Sam. You bring people together. You’re their bridge to the future… and mine. Come on, Sam. Stand up.”
Cliff’s hands were covered in scars and wrinkles. They were the hands of someone who had been through war. They were both strong but delicate. Even though they were stained with blood, they weren’t dirty. Cliff passed the baby he was cradling in his arms to Sam. It was so small that it looked like it would fit inside the palm of his hand. It was soft and warm. Sam could feel its heart beating. Its little heart was beating away strongly. It synchronized with Sam’s own heartbeat.
“Is this me?” Sam asked.
Cliff nodded and hugged Sam. Sam could smell cigarettes and blood. It was the smell of a father.
It was only slight, but Cliff squeezed his arms around Sam a little more tightly.
The paused time began to play again.
Sam heard two gunshots. And Cliff’s body twisted twice.
His grip loosened. When Sam looked, the baby had disappeared. All that was left in his hands was blood spatter. Cliff was staring into the distance. Sam was no longer reflected in his eyes. So much blood was pouring out of the right side of his chest. The baby he had been holding was covered in it, too. The heartbeat that had just synched with Sam’s was no more.
“Oh God, not the BB too.” How could John play innocent like that? Sam looked up.
John was holding the gun, but Bridget’s overlaid hand had pressed his finger on the trigger.
Cliff’s body slumped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. The baby’s body rolled to the ground alongside him.
Bridget ran over to the baby screaming something and scooped it up into her arms. As Sam stared at his own dead body, all he could do was stand there.
Sam watched the lid to the incinerator casket close and the whole thing sink into the floor. It was burning his cuff links. His connection with America was burning away. Now that his right wrist felt lighter, he used it to pick up Lou. A puddle of amniotic fluid was spreading out across the floor.
The cross-shaped scar on his abdomen burned. That same mark that had formed when Sam Bridges was brought back to life before he was even born, that had been left behind when Amelie had restored Sam’s ka on the Beach, was throbbing violently.
Sam hadn’t been able to burn Lou, after all. Sam knew that his talk of returning this child to the land of the dead and doing what was best for the child’s wellbeing had all been bullshit. Just a lie he had told himself. He knew that from the start.
He just wanted to feel this child’s skin. Just like Cliff had held Sam as a baby, how Amelie had held him on the Beach, Sam wanted to hold Lou. Maybe it was a one-sided cruel love. Sam couldn’t promise Lou what that love would bring. But Sam knew that he couldn’t burn Lou without a hug.
Now his wish had come true—no, he made it come true. But Lou didn’t respond.
Lou felt warm. But the breaths and heartbeat that Sam felt were shallow and weak.
“Lou!”
His persistent calls for Lou were just like those Cliff had made.
“Lou!”
Sam rubbed Lou’s back and tried to massage arms and legs that were so thin they looked like they could snap. Sam had no idea if he was doing it right, but Sam kept calling Lou’s name, hugging Lou close and rubbing the small body to stop the ka from separating from Lou’s ha.
—Want to go home?
Where had Amelie meant when she asked me if I wanted to go home?
Where had Cliff tried to take me when I was a baby?
Where am I going to take you, Lou?
Where do I want to show you?
It’s too early to go to the world of the dead. You haven’t even been born yet. Let’s not head to the realm of the past where everything is settled and finished, but toward the future with infinite possibilities. But right now, the only choice that lies in that future is for you to come into this world. So wake up, Lou. I’ll anchor you here.
A vague umbilical cord of particles formed at Lou’s abdomen. It was a sign of necrosis.
So, this kid would never be born into this world after all.
If I’m not with you, Lou, I can’t begin anything either. Even if you don’t want to live with me, I want to live with you.
Even as Sam’s tears dripped onto Lou’s face, Lou was still trying to return to the world of the dead.
No, Lou.
Sam closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to look at Lou’s umbilical cord. As he stood there holding Lou, unable to do anything but cry, he knew that he was the stupidest man in the world.
The dreamcatcher that hung by his chest caught on something. Sam looked up. Lou’s eyes were open. In Lou’s right hand was Amelie’s quipu.
Lou had returned.
Before Sam had the opportunity to shed any more tears, Lou began to cry out loudly.
Lou screamed out to the world: “I’m here.”
Lou was crying, trembling all over, to shake off the border between life and death and tear away the shackles that bound the BB between them.
“Welcome back, Lou. Louise.”
As Lou screamed her lungs out, Sam kissed her on the cheek. He felt her tears on his lips. They were the tears of a living, breathing child.
Sam left the incinerator to find that the rain had cleared. A rainbow drew a beautiful arc over the ridge. It wasn’t the upside-down rainbow Sam usually saw.
The blowing winds brought with them a scent that Sam had never smelled before.
Sam looked back over his shoulder toward the incinerator and began to walk back the way he had come. But what lay before him now was a new place that he had never been to.
Let’s go home.
Sam heard a familiar voice that he knew from long ago, somewhere before.
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