Inspired by "Papa Can You Hear Me" by Barbara Streisand, sung by Lea Michele.
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The stillness of Westfall was broken by the crushing sounds of dying grass beneath his feet as he walked along the rolling hills. It was then that he started to hear the howling of the coyotes in the distance. The night sky shrouded over him, a million stars looking down at him. He stopped at the edge of a cliff and daringly sat along that same jagged edge, his feet dangling over the side as he lay back on the rocky dirty ground. The ocean below crashed against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby to his ears and soul, but it was that same ocean that saddened him tonight.
“Father…” he whispered into the night sky. He waited for a moment, as if he expected the deep and calm voice of the man who once walked with him as he grew up to respond. The elf took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air and searched the sky. “Father.”
Fireworks exploded off in the distance behind him; the last celebrations of Hallow’s Eve and more celebrations for Day of the Dead. Yet, in his solemn loneliness, all Cristianno could think about was that night. The night Marcus closed his eyes for the last time.
“Cristianno? Are you there?”
“I’m here, father.”
The graying man tried to lift his head and look for his elf son in the dimly lit room. “Come here, boy.” The elf walked toward him. His features had changed over the years since the day his mother had died. He was becoming a man and Marcus simply smiled, reaching for his hand.
“Yes, father?” The elf knelt beside the bed and held the human’s hand.
The man coughed softly and smiled at his son. “Every time I saw your eyes, I thought of your mother.” He closed his eyes for a moment and struggled for a breath. The women in the room, Marcus’ lost sisters who managed to find him in time to help him, shuffled as they saw him, but remained seated when he exhaled. He had a virus that simply damaged his lungs and his old age was too much for his body to recover. “Cristianno, I want you to know that I did my best to raise you as my son. If I failed in any way…”
“No, father. I am who I am because of you. You gave me a chance at life. You taught me how to be a real man.”
Marcus nodded and smiled. “You have much to learn, son.”
Cris nodded and bit his lip as he fought back his tears. “I know, father.”
The human stared at his son and reached for his face. “Remember what you told me when we released your mother out to the sea? It’s alright to cry when it matters, son.” Cris looked into his father’s fading eyes and nodded, lowering his head onto the bed. His auburn hair spread out like a web, covering his father’s body as he broke down in tears, his wailing hidden behind his father’s protection.
Marcus patted his head, tears rolling down his temple toward his hair. “Be strong, Cristianno. You’re a D’Avros. We’re strong men.” Cris nodded against him, but his eyes remained hidden. “Remember your studies. You are smart. Don’t make the same mistakes I made.” He let out a faint chuckle. “Don’t seek the easy way out.”
Lifting his wet face, Cristianno looked at his father, “What do you mean, father?”
“Do things the right way. I learned that late in my life, and it took your mother and you and Emii to realize that a family is the true meaning of life. We men seek a way to make our mark in this life. Stealing, killing, plundering will not give you the satisfaction you seek. I know that now.”
“I don’t understand, father.”
Marcus looked at his son and smiled, “It doesn’t matter anymore. I made my mark on you and on Emii.” The name of his lost daughter made him sigh and he closed his eyes. His chest heaved a few times, both as he struggled to breathe and as he let more tears fall. “The point, my son, is to find the goodness in this life and make your mark. Let them know that you were able to raise a family in this cruel world.” Cristianno cried silently as he saw his father’s pained eyes. “Find your sister, Cristianno.”
“Yes, father.”
The door opened and a scruffy man walked in, forcing the women to huddle in a corner. Marcus sniffed the air and smiled. “You made it, old man.”
“Old man? You’re the one on his deathbed.” The dark haired human walked to the other side of the bed and knelt. He was about ten years younger than Marcus, but he looked weathered and tired.
Marcus chuckled softly. “Cristianno, I want you to meet Stefan McClandon. We call him The Captain.” Cris looked at the human and turned back to his father. “Stefan, this is my son, Cristianno.”
“Mated with an elf, eh? He doesn’t look like a half-elf.”
“He’s not, but he is my son.” Marcus coughed and gasped for breath, frightening everyone in the room. Once he settled, he reached for Stefan’s hand and said, “Watch over him. He’s still a boy.”
Stefan looked at Cris. “Being an elf, he’s probably our age.”
“But he’s still a boy. Watch over him, Stefan. You owe me.”
“Aye. I’ll bring him onboard.”
“He’s not to be a pirate.”
Cris looked at his father and then at Stefan, who chuckled. “He can mop the deck.”
Throwing his arms over his father, Cris held on tightly, “Don’t leave me, father. I still need you.”
“I’ve done all I can, Cristianno. From now on, you’re on your own.” He smiled at Cris and gasped for air. “Make me proud, son.” He turned to his friend and tightly gripped his hand, Stefan nodding, his lip quivering slightly.
Marcus gasped again and Cristianno shook his head, “No! Father, wait! No!” The breathing was short and after a large breath, he exhaled his last breath, slowly, his body settling for the last time. The elf cried out, holding his father, his fists gripping on as if he would lose him once he let go. The ladies in the room began to cry softly and the Captain simply walked out of the room, patting Cris’ shoulder light.
“Father wait! Father! Please come back!”
“Father, can you hear me?” Cris looked at the twinkling stars and sighed. “I know you said I wasn’t a pirate, but, the sea called out to me.” He sat up and looked out at the dark ocean, occasionally lit by the nearby lighthouse. “She called out to me and I had to be near my mother.” A cool breeze picked up and his auburn hair flowed behind him. “I need you, father. I need your guidance. I’m so lost and confused right now.” He recalled his father’s words, about making his mark in life. “Father, how can I possibly make my mark on this world when I’m not given a chance to do so?” His memories triggered and he sighed deeply. “One day, I know I will. I will be the father you were to me.” Bits and pieces of prior conversations he had with her began to seep from his heart into his memory. For a moment, he remembered. He swore he would wait forever. “But I have many years ahead of me. I have plenty of time to make my mark.” Of this he was sure of.
He closed his eyes and took another deep breath as the breeze wrapped around him. “Father…” Cristianno gazed up at the sky once more. He reached for his bag and pulled out a jug of bourbon. Uncorking it, he lifted it toward the sky. “I love you, father.”
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