The U Turn 02:08

The Agent. She rested her forehead against the coolness of the windowpane. That was an oddity in itself to mull over. The call from the middle of nowhere, at night, knowing that Silver had gone. Her husband, in follow up, understanding: of course, take anything you like... "We have our memories," too overwhelmed with the loss to look through things. Hugging the little one close and trying to frame the void with gentle words. Heaven, angels; prayers and tears, because they would be seen, and it's ok.

What is death?

Goldy herself would not cry. She'd seen death. She was bedside manner. When the old man was passing, she snapped Silver out of daze, "He's not there! Don't you understand? He's already not here." And she offered him a banana, which he reached out for like a little child spying candy, and on taking a spoonful eagerly from her hand, immediately made a sour face: "I-don-wan-it!"

Goldy shed a single tear at Grammy's wake, but for the old man next to be cremated, or Gramps who outlived them both, she had nothing. She had hardened. We all go. In the hands of God. No sense blowing your nose and trumpeting weakness.

True, Silvie had a certain place within her being— different. In a sentimental moment, when she had sufficiently pissed everyone but Silver off (with her need to be first), Gold had said softly: "This is your song." It startled Silver. As for inspiration and taking courage, for her it was always the other-way-around.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed

But I've got it all here in my heart

I want you to know, I know the truth, of course I know it

I would be nothing without you

Did you ever know that you're my hero?

You're everything I wish I could be

I could fly higher than an eagle

For you are the wind beneath my wings

She had packed up everything the Agent had asked for, as best as she could. And then she sat down— across from Stanley. Declining coffee or tea, the two plain waters between them and reflections of Silver.