Besides playing basketball, there was one thing that Bobby enjoyed more than anything else. He liked to tell stories. He had a knack for taking complicated concepts and writing them in accessible ways. He thought that nothing could be better than to make a career out of doing something he loved. Writing. But it didn’t come easy. At first he couldn’t catch a break or make a sale. Of anything. He wrote every kind of story, from epic adventures to online serials. He even stopped going by Bobby and used his full name, Robert Pendragon, just to appear more professional. Nothing seemed to be working. After suffering through one too many rejections, Bobby was ready to give up and, as his father put it, “get a real job.” Of course, that’s when he got his first break. He sold a short story to a magazine about Allied POWs being used as slave labor for private Japanese companies during World War II. His story was fiction, but based on fact. It not only gave him his first sale as a professional writer, but launched a successful, decades-long career as an author.
Bobby may not have become a lawyer as his parents had hoped, but in his own small way, he did change the world. He specialized in writing dramatic fiction based on true incidents. He brought history to life and made it accessible to people who wouldn’t ordinarily be interested. Among his many topics he wrote stories of child labor in third-world nations, handling illness without health insurance, and the challenge of combating illiteracy. He always picked topics that had social relevance. He wanted to take his readers beyond the story of his characters and illustrate the larger challenge in compelling ways. He won praise for his thought-provoking portrayals that shed light on so many pressing issues. Many of the books written by Robert Pendragon became required reading in classrooms. He never got rich from his work. At least, he never earned a ton of money. But he had the satisfaction of knowing that his work helped make a difference.
He didn’t see much of Courtney right after high school. She went to New York University, where she majored in communications while playing both varsity volleyball and Softball. She moved to Los Angeles and went into a career producing television news specials. She and Bobby always kept in touch, but didn’t see each other face-to-face until Bobby was asked to appear at a fund-raiser for California teachers. Bobby jumped at the chance, not only because he believed in the cause, but also because he knew that Courtney would be there to cover it. When they met, it was like no time had passed.
They were never apart again. Two years later they were married.
The two traveled the world. Whether it was for Bobby’s research or Courtney’s job, they saw places that most people only dreamed of. Together. When they wrote e-mails back to their friends, they always signed them: “The Travelers.”
If there was one regret for either of them, it was that they never had kids. They wanted children, but it was not meant to be. Though they had no kids of their own, that didn’t stop them from playing a big part in the lives of three very special youngsters. Their names were Allie, Claire, and Teddy. They were the children of Mark Dimond.
Mark was the one who followed the path that everyone expected. After high school he attended MIT. Where else? While there he was credited with designing technology that allowed 3-D images to be digitally broadcast and reproduced. The revolutionary technology was used not only for entertainment but for biological research, medical imaging, and communications. It made him a very rich guy. Not that anybody could tell. He still bought his clothes at discount stores and didn’t get his hair cut often enough.
He married a girl from Boston named Marie, and settled there. Not a month would go by that they didn’t see either Bobby or Courtney or both. They were like an extended family. Bobby and Courtney bought a house on an island off of Maine, where Mark and Marie’s kids would often visit. Bobby would take them on adventures from the time they were barely old enough to walk. Bobby and Courtney took them backpacking in the Sierras and rafting down the Colorado River. Bobby taught them to scuba dive. And drive a boat. And rock climb. And fish. And drive. And and and… Bobby became the kind of uncle that everybody wished they had. He always said it was a no-brainer because he’d been taught by the best. He promised Mark that he would always be there for the kids, as Uncle Press had always been there for him. Bobby kept that promise. Bobby always kept his promises.
Bobby wasn’t much for publicity, though he had one prized possession. It was a clipping from his hometown newspaper, the
Stony Brook Times. It was an article about two successful alumni of Stony Brook High, who had each gone on to do great things in widely divergent fields while still remaining best friends. Bobby had the article framed and he put it over his desk. Prominent in it was a picture of the two of them. Bobby and Mark. The framed article became even more precious when Bobby got a phone call that changed everything.
It was from Marie. She gave Bobby the sad and shocking news that Mark had suddenly taken ill, and died. It came with no warning. A heart attack before his fortieth birthday. Bobby didn’t even get the chance to say good-bye. It was a harsh lesson that life is full of surprises and not all of them are good.
At Mark’s funeral Courtney and Bobby both gave the eulogy. Courtney spoke of the importance of friendship and of inspiring people to follow their dreams. Bobby said that he was proud of Mark, not for the incredible accomplishments he made in his short lifespan, but for the fact that he lived his life doing something he loved. “That,” he said, “is a lesson we can all take from Mark that is far more valuable than any of his inventions.”
Bobby kept his promise. Both he and Courtney did all they could to help and support Marie and the kids. The Dimonds didn’t need money. They needed friendship and stability. Bobby and Courtney were there for them. Always. The extended family stayed strong in spite of the tragedy. Or maybe because of it.
“Marie and the kids came by yesterday,” Bobby said.
“All of them?” Courtney asked. She helped Bobby sit up in bed, moving the pillows and propping him up.
“Yeah. You know those kids aren’t kids anymore. They’ve got their own little ones, for cryin’ out loud, but they still call me Uncle Bibs.”
“And they always will,” Courtney replied.
The two were silent for a moment, then Bobby said, “I wonder if they felt like they needed to see me too.”
Courtney sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t have to answer. Of course that’s why they came.
They were holding hands. It was late. Past visiting hours. The room was silent. There were no monitors of any kind. Bobby wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t care what his vitals were. “If I’m breathing, that’s vital enough for me,” he’d say. The doctors didn’t argue.
“It’s okay, you know,” Bobby said to Courtney. “I’m good with this.”
Courtney nodded.
“You should be too,” he added.
“I am,” she said. “It’s just that… I kind of got used to having you around.”
“Did you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t come over to my house that night?” he asked. “The night of the basketball game?” Bobby nodded.
Courtney answered, “Nothing would have changed. Destiny is a funny thing. When something is right, it’s hard to avoid it. We’d still be sitting here, two old farts, spending more time thinking about the past than living in the present.”
“Speak for yourself,” Bobby said quickly. “I’m enjoying this hand-holding business.”
Courtney leaned over and gave Bobby a kiss. She liked kissing Bobby. Always did. They were interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
“Uh, ooh, sorry. Excuse me.”
They both looked up quickly, embarrassed that they’d been caught kissing. Standing in the doorway was a man who looked to be in his forties. He wore a long, light brown coat over jeans and a work shirt. His brown hair fell below his ears. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days.