Apocalypsis 04 - Haven

when it’s our time to join you.”
    “Amen,” said the crowd.
    “Amen,” I said softly to myself.
    “Thank you for joining us,” said Ronald. “We have food in the lobby for everyone. Please come in fellowship and remembrance.”
    I stood behind Peter and Trip, waiting for them to go down the stairs from the stage ahead of me. Peter was crying softly and Trip had his arm across Peter’s shoulders. I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about my friend or Buster. Trip only stopped hugging my best friend in the world and soul brother to sweep the naked poodle up into his arms and hold him close.
    Paci noticed me crying again and pulled me to him, folding me gently into his arms, mindful of my injury.
    “Where to now?” he asked.
    “Will you take me to my room?” I asked. “I just want to lie down and forget this day. Forget the fight. And think about my friends I lost.”
    “Yes, I’ll take you. Do you mind if I stay with you?”
    “No.” I hugged him hard, burying my face in his chest. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t think I can be without you anymore.”
    He squeezed me a little tighter and leaned down to kiss me tenderly on the cheek. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.”

EPILOGUE

    “Can you believe this is the same place we rode up to on our bikes five years ago?” I asked.
    “Five years ago, today. To the day ,” said Peter. “And yes, of course I can. I planned every square inch of this place out on paper in case you forgot.”
    “How could I forget? Holy crap, you wallpapered eight offices with those plans.”
    “That wallpaper is now responsible for the thriving metropolis that is Haven, population one thousand, two hundred and eighty four, thank you very much.”
    “Five. Jenny and Fohi had their baby last night. A girl,” I said, biting into a turkey sandwich.
    “They did? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I have to put that into the log book.” Peter immediately started searching around for something.
    “There are no pens or paper allowed on family picnic day, you know that. Stop looking for something to write with.”
    A small, handmade soccer ball created with about a hundred yards of twine landed in the middle of our grilled vegetables.
    “Do you mind?” asked Peter in an offended voice. “We’re trying to picnic over here.”
    Trip came running over, all sweaty, his long, black hair a mess. “Toss it here, babe! I’m on the run!”
    Peter tried, but failed miserably. It landed at the feet of the nearby toddler who quickly bent over to get it into his fat little hands. It immediately went into his mouth.
    “Oh, man! Not again!” Trip dropped down onto hands and knees, playing growling bear very convincingly.
    “Give the ball to Uncle Trip,” I said. “Go on, give it to the scary bear.”
    “Bear!” shrieked the little boy, throwing the ball in a panic and nailing Trip right in the forehead with it.
    Trip feigned being knocked out and fell over onto his back, closing his eyes and letting his tongue hang out.
    The toddler didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He ran over on his chubby little legs and dove on top of him, pushing a gust of air out of Trip’s lungs.
    “Tackle!” yelled Paci, running up to join the fun. He picked the toddler up and swung him into the air. “You got him, Kowi! You killed the bear! Good boy! That’s daddy’s boy, big old bear killer!”
    “Mama bear!” Kowi yelled, smiling and shrieking every time his dad lifted him up and let him fall again. “Mama bear!”
    Paci stopped tossing him around and held him close to his chest, both of them facing me now. “Yes, Kowi, that’s your momma. Mama bear. Can you say, Nokosi?”
    “Mowoki.”
    “No, not Mo-oh-kee. No … say it .. Nooo.”
    “No.”
    “Good boy. Now say, Ko.”
    “Ko.”
    “Good, Kowi! Now say, See.”
    “See.”
    “Put it all together. Nokosi.”
    “Mowoki.”
    Paci shook his head and put Kowi down, looking over at me. “Stubborn as a bear.”
    “Wonder where he gets that from,” said Peter, smiling.
    Trip was still playing fake-dead but now he was laughing silently, tongue still hanging out on the side.
    “He gets it from his father, of course. He gets other things from me.” I smiled at my little boy as he walked over, turned around, and sat his little butt right down onto Uncle Trip’s face.
    Paci looked at me and winked. “You up for another frolic in the meadow later?”
    I laughed, pointing at the little guy mashing his