Dearly Departing

of raspberries in the garden. Maybe Dad’s helping her.”
“Oh dear... I hope she hasn’t had some sort of sunstroke. It’s been an awfully hot August. I wish they would sell that blasted farm and move into town.”
“Mom hasn’t had a sunstroke. She wears a big hat and there’s plenty of shade in the garden.”
“Still... I’m going to give them a call.”
There was no sense in trying to talk her out of it. The fear talks always ended with her on the phone. Raymond and Alicia watched as she dialled the numbers. They shovelled their suppers in as quickly as possible. The sooner they were done eating, the faster they could get back outside. At least Gramma Minnie was an excellent cook.
Alicia was finishing her milk off and Raymond was already standing by the time she hung up the receiver. “No answer. They must have been in a car accident. I can’t see what else would be taking them so long.”
“Is it okay if we go back outside to play, Gramma?” Raymond asked.
Minnie Wallace nodded absently. “Perhaps I should call the police... or maybe the hospital.” Raymond took his sister by the hand and the two slipped out through the back door as their grandmother was reaching back for the phone.
The cops and docs would know how to handle old Gramma, Raymond thought. They got at least two or three calls from her every month. Alicia spotted the half-finished bottle of cream soda her brother had left on the lawn. She began to drink its warm remains as Raymond flung his pink soldier high above both their heads.
An hour later most of the play had been worked out of the two. Alicia was curled up into a ball, sleeping in the same patch of grass where she’d found the pop. Raymond had run out of energy as well. He was lying on his back next to her, still throwing the soldier up into the air, over and over. It wasn’t going all that high anymore. Two of the six strings had broken away, and there was a hole in the chute causing the figure to plummet faster.
Where were his mom and dad? As much as he hated giving in to his grandmother’s fear-mongering, Raymond couldn’t help but feeling a little worried. They were at least two hours late. What if something had happened? Gramma Minnie had been right about one thing; his parents were old—a lot older than the parents of his friends in school. Some of them liked to tease him. They said his mom and dad were old enough to be his grandparents. A few had said even meaner things. They told Raymond that his parents would be dead and buried by the time he graduated from high school. He’d always laugh the mean talk off but sometimes wondered how long his parents would be there to see him through life. He fully expected them to both be around when he graduated. Raymond didn’t put much thought into marriage and having children of his own—he was only ten after all—but he did worry they might not live long enough to see any grandchildren. Thinking of things like that made him sad. So much was already out of his control. All he could do was hope.
Raymond finally gave up on the figurine and settled his tiring attention on a jumbo jet streaming thirty-thousand feet above Rokerton. It was headed west, jettisoning a steady trail of grey. Raymond held his thumb out at arm’s length and blotted the plane away. A moment later the distant rumble caught up to his ears. Where were all those people going, he wondered? Vancouver was out west. Raymond had been born in Vancouver. His parents used to live out in British Columbia. They moved to Manitoba six months after Raymond was born. They promised him that one day the whole family would go back there for a visit.
The rumble began to fade. Raymond turned over onto his stomach and watched as the plane disappeared into the sinking sun. His heart began to ache. He had the mournful idea that his parents were already on that plane, heading back to Vancouver, and they had left him behind. What if they had died in a horrible car wreck? Maybe their ghosts were on that plane. Maybe Raymond would never, ever see them again. He started to cry.
“What’s wrong, Raymond? Why are you crying?”
He wiped his eyes and tried smiling at his sister. “Nothing’s wrong. Just being stupid.”
“It ain’t... it is not stupid to cry,” Alicia offered. “People cry when they’re sad and scared.”
“I’m not scared, Alicia. Maybe a little sad.”
“How come?”
“Just thinking silly stuff.”
Alicia rolled up onto her knees and patted her brother’s shoulder. “Don’t be sad, Raymond. It’s okay to think silly stuff. I always think silly stuff when we come to Gramma’s.”
Raymond looked up at his grandmother’s house. The kitchen window was open, and he could hear the muffled sounds of her television from the living room. “Best time at Gramma’s is when she lies down on the couch after supper and falls asleep to them dumb nature shows.”
The dog across the street started to bark. An old green pickup truck pulled up along the curb and Raymond’s parents climbed out. Alicia rolled over her brother and ran to meet them.
Thomas Wallace scooped his daughter up into his arms. “How’s the little reptile?”
“I’m not nobody’s reptile!”
He rubbed his stubbly chin against her cheek. “Quite right, my darling. You’re my reptile.”
Raymond approached them with his hands stuffed nonchalantly in his pockets. “About time you guys showed up.”
Nancy Wallace ruffled his brown hair. “Has Gramma been talking her nonsense again?” Raymond shrugged. His mother placed a knuckle under his chin and lifted his face. “Have you been crying? For God’s sake... what did she say this time?”
“Nothing, Mom. She’s sleeping