He’s laying on his back in the grass, chewing idly at the end of a stem between his fingers. He flicks it away and the chickens come running…just in case it’s something fabulous. He raises up on one elbow and pulls himself into a sitting position, he gets his legs under him and pushes himself off the ground and stands.
The chickens scatter at the sudden movement.
He’s feeling better because she’s doing a little better. She’s handling things and hiring people and working and keeping herself afloat. He watches her every. single. day. She even laughs sometimes…and sometimes, she forgets for just a second and then it all comes rushing back. He wishes she hadn’t had to see it…the part where he died. He thinks she would have done better had she not seen him like that…seen them working on him like they were. That hasn’t been good for her. She tries to get to the happy memories, but the night that he died gets in the way. It makes her feel like she’s choking on the very air she breathes. There’s no way to take away that memory now.
He thinks. It wasn’t his finest moment, but he is glad that she was there the moment his body set him free. If only she could have known that it was such freedom…and it didn’t mean he was leaving, it just meant that he wouldn’t be tortured by his human body anymore. He doesn’t miss that pain…but he does miss her. He can hardly stand it some times.
He watches her now. She’s gotten more chickens and a new coop. He laughs to himself that he’s barely gone 9 weeks and she’s chickening up the place. As if in response to his thoughts, Oprah Wingfrey, her favorite hen, rustles by in the grass on her way to something interesting by the brook. He watches Oprah go on her way and thinks to himself “at least it wasn’t goats”.
He stretches and begins to walk back to his chair. The chickens know the routine and follow The Chicken Keeper. The sounds of his strides through the grass mesh with the sound of their clucks and warbling. He adjusts his chair and settles back to watch the Light. He’ll wait. He hates it, but he’ll wait as long as he has to for her. To be together again will be so worth it. There are others in the meadow too. All sitting in their chairs…and waiting. Because it’s going to be so worth it.