“Departures” is a supernatural thriller and love story published as a serial novel with new episodes dropping every Tuesday morning. Anyone can read or listen for free. Paid subscribers gain early access to new episodes. Watch the trailer or visit the table of contents to browse all the published episodes.
Hello Friends,
After this chapter, only two remain. It’s going to be hard to give up this story and harder still to give up connecting with all of you through it each week, but all things must come to an end.
To celebrate/mourn the ending of Departures, I have a few fun things planned in the coming weeks, one of which will be a live reading of the final chapter open to all Catch & Release subscribers on Saturday, March 15th 5PM Eastern time in the U.S. I’ll follow up with details next week and I hope you’ll plan to join.
By now, you know music is a big part of my life and it always finds a way into my writing. This chapter, in particular, leans heavily into one song that might increase your enjoyment if you give it a listen before you start. I’ve embedded a link to The Clash’s Train in Vain in the text for this chapter. Enjoy!
Peace & music,
Ben
Previously…
In the last episode, Millie was confronted by her father, Gerry about her secret project to transform Thorne Enterprises into an employee-vested corporation, liquidating most of its holdings. Already grappling with his fast approaching death based on Wild’s premonition, which he’s not entirely accepted, Gerry could only see Millie’s actions as a betrayal.
Wild hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He had only meant to lay down beside June while she slept but the late afternoon sun had made him drowsy, and he drifted into a coma-like slumber. When he awoke, June was staring at him from her pillow. Her eyes appeared so much larger and luminescent because her cheeks were hollow, the pallor of her skin almost translucent.
“I want to know,” she said. “I want to know how many days.”
It took a beat for him to process her question. He slept very little these days, but when he did, his dreams were epic, thrashing affairs that seemed to dramatize all the anguish he felt in waking hours but couldn’t express. He blinked and swallowed.
“It’s four days. Four days from today, my love.”
She nodded and tried to smile. He couldn’t bear it and pulled her to him gently so he wouldn’t have to look at her. He tried not to cry but failed to be the strong one as he had most every day. She didn’t cry but patted his back softly waiting for the wave of his emotion to recede. When it did, she spoke.
“I don’t want to die here.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to die here. I want to be outside. I want to be able to see the sky. Would that be okay?”
“Okay, I can figure that out. I’ll find a way to coordinate with your parents…”
“No, I’ll say goodbye to them before. I just want it to be me and you. Can we do that?”
He nodded and his mind raced ahead trying to plan something he couldn't imagine. He had assumed at least her parents would be there with him in the end. How would he manage it by himself?
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m scared. I’m trying to be strong for you, but I’m scared, June.”
“I am too, but this is what I want. You make me feel safe.”
“How? I don’t see it. I’m nothing. I don’t believe in anything. I’m always running away from hard things. Anything good you see in me is here because of you.”
“I know.” She smiled and it was the lovely, crooked smirk that he had fallen in love with. “So let me spend my last day basking in my greatest accomplishment.”
Then the smirk bent into a frown, and she winced. She had been refusing pain medication up to this point because she wanted to be clear-headed, but today when the hospice nurse came by, he would insist.
“It’s bad, sweetie. I won’t have you be in pain anymore. Your parents are coming later. Will you try some of the meds for me?”
She sucked in her breath and nodded. “I just need help to the bathroom.”
He got up and walked around to her side of the bed. Three months prior he had replaced their bed with a state-of-the-art one that worked like a hospital bed, allowing him to elevate her to a sitting position. Up until last week she had been strong enough to walk holding onto his arm, but now he had to carry her everywhere and he did, gladly. It was something that made him feel useful to her. He carried her out into the back yard and to the couch. Every day there was less of her and when he scooped her up to walk her over to the bathroom, she felt like a child in his arms. He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.
“Can you give me some privacy, please?”
“Of course.”
He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door gently.
“I’ll be right here,” he called out. “I thought maybe I could help you take a warm bath after. I bought some air cushions for the tub. How does that sound?”
“Honey, please. Some privacy.”
He stepped away from the door. There was one small consolation to the horror show of knowing the date your loved one was going to die. He didn’t worry every time he left her alone that something would happen. After a moment, he heard the toilet flush and the faucet in the sink running. He waited before going to the door, not wanting to annoy her.
“All done?” he asked.
She opened the door and braced herself on the frame. The sunlight coming through the large window above the bathtub behind her passed through her thin nightgown and he tried not to notice her stick-like silhouette. The light made a flaming aura of her hair, and he smiled as he reached for her.
“Will you take a bath with me?” she asked. “I’d feel less like your patient if you were naked too.”
“Of course,” he said. He had no idea how he would do this, but he also knew if she asked him to sing the national anthem naked at Turner Field before a Braves game, he would do it. “Let me just help you to the bed while I get things ready.”
After getting her settled with a magazine, he went into the bathroom, opened the windows to let in the late afternoon air and the sounds of the neighborhood, and began filling the large bathtub. He lit some scented candles before returning to the bedroom.
“Could I try a glass of wine?” she asked.
“Are you sure?”
“What? We know one glass of wine won’t kill me.”
“I know, I just don’t want you to get sick.”
“Too late. Please just get me a fucking glass of wine? And put on some music but no airy-fairy spa music. Something with a beat.”
“Got it,” he said.
He found a bottle of Chardonnay in the cabinet, unsure of its origin or quality. It could have been from the bottom shelf at the grocery store, or it could have been an expensive gift from his mother. It didn’t matter. He opened it and poured a couple of glasses before heading over to the shelf containing a collection of vinyl that had grown exponentially in the past two years. June loved shopping for records, and they had a standing Saturday tradition of going to the record store in Little Five Points. She always picked the craziest combinations. One day it was the Xanadu soundtrack and the Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers. Another day, it was The Eagles Greatest Hits, an album of Celtic harp music, and something from a new wave band that reminded him of The Fixx. He asked her once why they didn’t buy CDs, arguing that they would last longer. Why do they need to last any longer than you need them to? She had said.
He searched and searched for the perfect thing to play. It was an impossible task like everything else in his life since the day he knew he would lose her.
“Honey,” she called out weakly from the bedroom. “The bath’s going to overflow.”
He closed his eyes and pulled a random record from the shelf. London Calling by The Clash. He smiled, pulled the second disc from the sleeve, and put side B on the turntable. He turned it up uncomfortably loud before going to retrieve the wine. He picked up his glass and drained most of it before refilling it and heading back into the bedroom.
“I love this album,” she said. “How did you pick it?”
“A magician never reveals his tricks.”
“Is this the side with Stand by Me?”
“If you mean Train in Vain, then yes, my love.”
“That’s a terrible name for the song.”
“Tomato, tom-ah-to.”
“No,” she said. “You’re a stand-by-me guy, you just don’t know it.”
He returned from the bathroom after setting the wine down and shutting off the water. He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. She sang along to Lover’s Rock and her breath tickled his neck. He sat her down on the lip of the tub and was about to help her with her nightgown, but she stopped him.
“You first. I want to watch you undress this time.”
He knew she was remembering that first night at Christmas time in his rooms above the theater where she had undressed in front of him. That was before they had ever touched. He nodded and handed her the glass of wine.
“The more you drink, the better I’ll look,” he said as he started to tug his t-shirt over his head.
“Un un un. Slowly. I would like a performance equal to the one I gave you.”
He did his best to put on a show for her. It might have been the most awkward thing he had ever attempted to do but hearing her laugh was music, so he hammed it up, swinging his shirt over his head before letting it fly against the wall. She sipped her wine. He maintained eye contact as long as he could. It was easier to look into her eyes because her eyes hadn’t changed, but it was harder because he was terrifically embarrassed. Finally, he was naked, and she applauded. He helped her out of her gown and underwear then eased her into the water. He got in after her and the water nearly splashed over the lip of the tub.
He positioned himself behind her and she leaned back into him. They closed their eyes and listened to the next two songs. He imagined how much worse it would have been if she had succumbed to everyone’s pressure to do chemo and radiation. She had talked about the wisdom of the body and how it knew what to do if left alone. She had been right, he figured, at least up until now. There was some pain and discomfort as things began to shut down, but she was herself, still so fully herself. He breathed her in and held her as tight as he felt he could. She was so frail, all the cushion from her was gone. He physically ached. The throbbing pain emanated from his heart and took over his chest. He closed his eyes and allowed his hand to caress her belly and thigh, and he remembered everything as it was.
“It’s good to know I’ve still got it,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. He blushed and felt a flicker of shame about being aroused. “It’s just a shame I can’t do anything with it. I’m sorry love.”
“Don’t you be sorry,” he said, taking another sip of wine.
“You really don’t believe there’s anything after all this?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I want there to be. I want more time with you.”
“I want that too. But we can’t have it, can we?”
He had the flicker of the fantasy he had entertained on nights he couldn’t sleep. What if he could join her? What if he could just slip away when she did? What would be the harm in that? The perky disco backbeat of the last track on the album began to play. As Joe Strummer sang the lyrics to the song Wild had never paid much mind to, he felt suddenly that the words were being sung directly to him.
I see all my dreams come tumblin’ down, I can’t be happy without you around…
You must explain why this must be…
He buried his face in her neck and kissed her. The song ended and the house was quiet except for the drip from the faucet into the tub and the sound of the kids next door jumping on a trampoline.
“I don’t think there’s an end,” she said. “I mean, we’re here, floating in this water together. The atoms in our bodies exchanging with the water and with each other. How can there be an end?”
He knew there would be. The comfort that her atoms would be somehow floating in the ether exchanging with him and everyone else in less than a week was no comfort at all. But he couldn’t deny her this fantasy. She was facing the terror of no longer living and he was facing the dread of continuing to live.
“You’re right,” he said. “How can there be an end?”
“Can we get out now?” she asked.
He got out, dried himself quickly, and wrapped the towel around his waist before retrieving the plush robe her mother had bought for her. He helped her stand just enough to cocoon her in the robe then picked her up and carried her to the bed. He wrapped her hair in a soft towel and dried her feet, applying some lotion before putting socks on them and then he pulled the down comforter up around her body. The bath and the wine had tired her out, but she seemed relaxed. He went to the kitchen and retrieved one of the homemade slushies with Dr. Pepper that he kept stocked in the freezer. He sat on the bed beside her and spooned the ice into her mouth. Aside from some Creme of Wheat, it was about the only thing she could eat. After a few spoons full, she waved him away and closed her eyes. Within moments, she was snoring softly.
He dressed and straightened the house so it wouldn’t be a mess when the nurse and her parents arrived. It took much more effort than it should have. He felt light-headed and woozy. There was a small part of him that was glad there were only four days left. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer.
How would he honor her last wish? Where could he take her to be outside? How would he explain it to her parents? They would be so angry to not be there at the end and they would blame him. It didn’t matter though. Nothing mattered but what June wanted.
As he was wiping down the kitchen counters, he was whisper-singing the words to The Clash song when he stopped. All these years, he had misunderstood the lyrics. The chorus wasn’t a plea: “would you stand by me?” It was an accusation “you didn’t stand by me.”
The urge to grab his keys, get in the car, and run was stronger than any emotion he had ever felt.
« Previous Episode | Table of Contents | Next Episode »
Make a New Friend in the Comments
I’ve witnessed a really cool thing happen as I’ve published two other novels online like this. People who love the story and talk about it in the comments each week discover other likeminded readers and other fantastic writers. Many lasting friendships and collaborations start in the comments section. Share your thought and make a friend.
Want More? Check Out My Other Novels
If you’re enjoying “Departures,” chances are you will also like my two previously published novels. I’ve made the first two episodes of each free for you to preview. If you prefer reading the old fashioned way, you’re in luck because “The Memory of My Shadow” is now available in print, ebook, and audiobook anywhere you purchase books. I give you all the details in this announcement post.
In 2052, Magdalena, a brilliant programmer invents a device for telepathic communication with AI, seeking to decode the mind of her twin, the shooter in a school massacre she alone survived, but when she resurrects his consciousness, she unleashes a malevolence that could destroy her. Fans of the movie “Ex Machina” will love this story.
In the reality show competition for Houze, a revolutionary eco-home, six contestants face a winner-takes-all challenge. Beneath the surface of sustainability, altruism battles greed, turning a hopeful vision into a life and death struggle. Fans of “Nine Perfect Strangers” by Liane Moriarty will love this story.
Want to Help?
For independent authors like me who don’t have the support of a big publisher and marketing team, your enthusiastic support for my work means EVERYTHING. You can help others find my books by liking, commenting on, restacking, and sharing episodes like this one with anyone you know who loves to read.
I know how much competes for your time and attention so I’m so grateful you’ve honored me by sharing a portion of it each week. Thank you. ❤️
Love the Music?
If you love the soundtrack for “Departures” you should check out the work of my friend and collaborator
. All the cool sounds you hear that aren’t guitars are his. You can also find links to my catalog of music here as well as Spotify or anywhere you stream music.
Share this post