I have to say-the kid is a natural. He'd listened to my instruction well and his technique is damn good for a beginner. He casts out into a riffle, letting his body turn slowly as the current takes the fly downstream. When it reaches the end, he reels it in and false casts to dry the fly before letting it zoom out over the stream again.
"This is so peaceful and relaxing," Connor murmurs as he follows the current with the tip of his rod.
"Until you catch one," I say as I watch. "Then it's all adrenaline."
"Thanks for doing this with me," Connor says as he reels line in. "My dad's a business guy, you know. All suits and ties. He loves me and takes me to all kinds of events, but camping and fishing just aren't his thing."
"Not a problem, kid," I tell him, my face heating a bit under his praise. All my brothers are older than me, and I never had anyone who looked up to me. This is weird, but nice.
"So I'd like to ask you something man to man if that's okay," Connor says, turning to look back at the Suburban to ensure we're alone.
And the minute he says "man to man," I realize I need to stop calling him "kid." He's a man already-almost by age but definitely by circumstance. The mere fact he's had to deal with the inevitable fact he's dying would turn anyone into an adult before their time.
"What's up?" I ask him lightly, having no clue what he's going to lay on me. Whatever it is, I want him to be comfortable because the one thing I've taken to heart in all the chastising I've received from Jillian over my asshole tendencies is that Connor should never bear the brunt of my ire. He's the one who should get a pass on everything.
"So … last night, Barb asked if I'd had sex … " he begins, but then his voice drifts off. His ears turn bright red and he focuses on casting his rod again, perhaps hoping I'll know where he's going.
"You want to knock that off your bucket list?" I venture.
Connor nods quickly, refusing to meet my eyes and keeping his full concentration on his fishing rod. But he adds, "Maybe there's someone you know back home … or, um … I don't know … a prostitute or something."
My stomach rolls, because yeah … I've had my dick sucked for money a time or two since my injury. I could get him what he wants.
But I don't know if that's the right thing. It could be a terrible experience for him, and wouldn't it be better for him to never achieve that goal than to die believing sex is awful? I mean, not that it would be awful, awful. Pretty much any sex is good for a guy, but still … he's a good guy and deserves better than just okay. He deserves more than anonymous sex with a prostitute.
"Connor," I say hesitantly. "Don't you have any close female friends or anything?"
He shakes his head. "Not really. Once I became the dying kid, I think it was awkward for my friends to be around me. They started gradually pulling away, and I totally get it. Who wants to watch someone you care for die? So really there's just Jillian. She's my best friend, which is gross because she's like my sister. I just thought you might have some connections."
I have no clue if I can find someone who will be good to him and make the experience bucket-list worthy, but that doesn't stop me from promising. "You got it. I'll help you find someone."
He finally turns to look at me. Even though his face is still a bit red, his smile is contagiously big. "Thanks, dude. It means a lot."
"Whatever, dude," I say back gruffly, but he knows by my return grin that this was a good bonding moment between us.
Connor turns and continues to cast. I let him go for a few more rounds before saying, "Let's walk a little bit further upstream and try again."
After we get to our new place, I point out a large rock in the middle and tell him to aim just below it. He does and immediately gets a strike, but either the trout didn't take the fly completely or Connor pulled up too quickly. So he tries again.
I watch him try over and over again, determination etched on his face. No frustration, no giving up, just pure persistence in trying to catch a damn fish.
"Are you afraid of dying?" I ask him.
Connor's body jolts slightly, and he turns to look at me with eyebrows raised high. I've never pursued such an intimate discussion with him about his ultimate end and how he feels about it.
He reels the line in and doesn't bother recasting it. Instead, he turns to face me completely. "I'm terrified."
"Of what?"
"A lot of things," he says in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm afraid of being in pain, of dying slowly, of how sad my parents will be after. I'm afraid I won't let go when I should-that I'll linger causing me and my parents to suffer more."
The thought of that punches me in the gut, and I have to hold myself up not to double over. But still, he hasn't really addressed what I want to know. I've thought about dying, and it doesn't make me feel fear. It would be painless if done right, quick, with no one left to really grieve me.
But there's been one doubt that I haven't been able to shake, and I would really love to get Connor's take on it.
"What about after?" I say in a low, hesitant voice.
"After?"
"Yeah … what happens to you after you die?" I clarify. "Are you afraid of that?"
"God no," Connor says swiftly. "I believe I'll go to Heaven. That doesn't concern me at all."
"But how do you know you'll go to Heaven?" I press him.
Connor chuckles and looks at me with amusement. "Clearly, you're not a man of faith."
"My family weren't big churchgoers," I tell him.
"Don't you know anything about Jesus and why he died for us?" Connor asks with his head tilted.
I shake my head. I know nothing of the sort.
Taking a step toward me, Connor gives me a sad look. "You have to have faith. You have to believe in Heaven. You have to know in your soul it's a place where regrets don't matter because Jesus died for our sins and eternal happiness is yours for the taking. With faith, you should have no fear of what happens after."
Well, that fucking sucks. I look out at the river, foaming and frothing around rocks and releasing a bubbling melody to combine with the sound of birds chirping and the slight wind blowing through the trees.
A thing of beauty.
It gives me no solace.
It's not like I have faith just sitting around that I can tap into. And I have to admit to myself, the big thing that's held me back whenever I've considered ending things on my terms is the fact that I don't know what happens after. I'm afraid that whatever it is, it's not good. That it will be worse than what I have right now.
"It's not too late," Connor says softly.
My eyes fly back to his. "For what?"
"To become a believer," he says. "If you want … when we get back to Raleigh, you can come to church with me. I'll help you learn."
I'm not sure how I feel about church and learning stuff, but I do know that Connor offering it to me is the most comforting thing anyone has done for me since I was injured. I'm sure he thinks the offer is nothing, but to me … a doubter and a fearfully driven man at this point, it's more than I've been given in a long, long time.
"I'll think about it," I tell him evasively, not wanting to commit to anything. I've not been a commitment type of guy in forever.
"Cool," Connor says with a smile.
"Okay," I tell him as I nod back at the stream. "Let's try a few more casts here."
Turning to the water, Connor executes three beautiful false casts before he lets the line fly to the water. The nymph lands just at the base of the rock. A millisecond later, I see a trout rise with an open mouth to take it.
"Pull," I yell at Connor. By the time he jerks the tip of his rod up, the trout has its mouth closed around the fly. I can tell he successfully hooked it because his rod immediately arcs from the weight of the fish and the strength of its flight to get away.
"You did it," I yell out in pride.
Connor is triumphant when he shouts back, "I fucking did it."
Another item off his bucket list complete.
Another step closer to his death.
Chapter 21
While the pinnacle of what we want to see is Old Faithful, we spend most of the day driving around and checking out the varied scenery. We quickly learn how to find the wildlife in Yellowstone, which is filled with miles and miles of fields, forests, riverbanks, mountains, cliffs, and plains, all home to an amazing and abundant variety of animals. As we drive along, we realize if we see an area of roadway where several cars have pulled off to the side, it means there's an animal somewhere nearby.
The first thing we see is an elk with a rack on its head that seems to stretch out three feet on each side. He's lying in the shade of a tree, just calmly watching us gawk at him from about fifty yards away. Cameras snap and click, and I zoom in with my iPhone and grab a shot for myself. If it were hunting season and I had a rifle in my hand, it'd be a different story right now.
We see a few more elk and lots of deer before we get to the Upper Falls attraction. After we ooh and ahh over the massive waterfall-even Barb joining in-we walk back to the Suburban. I see a park ranger with a group of about thirty people standing around him near the edge of the parking lot where part of the forest starts. I veer off and head his way, hearing Connor, Jillian, and Barb following me.