Tricked

administering Immortali-Tea to my whole family had been a colossal mistake, but while Tahirah lived I never dared suggest we let nature take its course with her children and grandchildren. With her gone, however, it was abundantly clear that despite my family’s advanced age, their development had been severely stunted in crucial ways. They looked down on people who aged normally. They rarely took physical risks, or even wished to exert themselves. A sense of entitlement had bloomed within them. And so I thought the best gift I could give them at that point was a chance at normalcy, painful as that might be.
    » Odhiambo disagreed vehemently. He wanted me to teach him how to make Immortali-Tea, even though he knew very well he’d have to become a Druid to do it and he was far too old to begin the training; then he wanted me to make a vast supply and leave it for the village. But he gave up soon enough, seeing that I was determined, and so I wished them all harmony, shifted away from there, and returned to Europe at about the time its monarchs were discovering that the world might be round and full of vast resources to exploit. «
    » So, ever since then, it’s been a month here, a year there, then move on, like a rolling stone and all that? «
    » Pretty much. This is the longest I’ve stayed in any one place. «
    I waited for her to tell me I was selfish and irresponsible, or that I was the most epic deadbeat dad ever. I searched for signs that she was thinking it. Aside from looking a bit sad, her face was inscrutable; I lost some time as I focused on the freckles high up on her cheeks, and they blurred out and went wonky, the way things do when your eyes wonder what the hell you’re doing. She kept her gaze focused on the road, lost in her own thoughts.
    » Ten years later I returned, « I continued, as if I hadn’t paused and stared at her for three minutes. » Though I took care to go in camouflage. By listening and inference, I learned that Odhiambo was dead, as were several others. They’d committed suicide, Granuaile. Couldn’t stand the thought of aging. And they were angry with me for leaving—not because they missed me, but because they missed my miracle elixir. «
    » Well, that’s just … «
    » Yeah. One of my daughters was out alone collecting roots, and I showed myself to her so that we could talk and catch up. At first she was glad to see me, but when I made it clear I wasn’t staying or reversing their aging, she turned sullen and never smiled. She made no inquiries into my welfare, and perhaps I deserved that. But then I learned I was commonly cursed by my own family, as was Tahirah, for together we had ruined their paradise on earth, their own land of ceaseless summer. «
    Granuaile shook her head slowly and frowned, her judgment clear, but said nothing.
    » That was when I decided I would never share Immortali-Tea with anyone again. To my children and grandchildren, I was nothing more than a tit engorged with the milk of eternal youth, and while I had Tahirah by my side, I’d been willing to ignore that unpleasant reality. It made me wonder, though, if perhaps that was all I had been to her as well. I don’t know now if she ever loved me, you see? Perhaps she only loved being young and keeping her kids young once they reached adulthood. I tell myself no, there was no way she could have fooled me like that for two hundred years, what we had was real—but the doubts won’t go away. There will always be a blemish on the memory. «
    » Don’t doubt it, Atticus, « Granuaile said. » Never doubt that she loved you. «
    » Why? «
    » Well, because I— « She stopped abruptly, unsure of how to continue. Her hand flailed at the air to brush that attempt away, and then she began again. » Because you’re right. She couldn’t have faked it for two centuries. Nobody could. You would have seen it in her eyes if she was faking, but you never saw that, did you? You said yourself you found peace in her eyes. I know it turned to shit eventually—if there’s anything I learned from studying philosophy, it’s that everything turns to shit—but you had two hundred years of bliss before that, and you might be the only guy who ever got that. Ever. «
    That was a comforting way to look at it, and I nodded to indicate that she’d made a good point.
    We exchanged one of those cheerless, halfhearted, tight-lipped smiles where your eyes apologize for the past and your upturned mouth indicates