Chapter 30 Jack

Damonte Granger's adult children took turns sitting with him in his final days. When they were all gathered, the reminiscing of their childhood would flow, and invariably, one of them would lay a hand on their father's leg and say, "Remember that, Dad?" Even though he was heavily sedated most of the time.

The skin of Damonte's feet began to mottle, and that mottling began to march up his skinny legs, a sure sign death was approaching. One day he asked his kids to give him some space, that he wanted to rest. Jack suspected he was asking them to leave so he could die. Some people were funny that way—they wanted to be alone when they went.

The four adult children and their spouses and a couple of grandchildren shuffled out of the room and went off to lunch at a place Sandra recommended.

Jack gave Sandra a sidelong look as the family walked down the hall. "The Blackbird is notoriously slow."

"I know." She looked through the door to Damonte. "We can wait in the staff break room."

Together they retreated and sat, looking away from each other, both of them lost in thought. After a time, Jack said, "I'll go."

"Thanks," Sandra said. She looked particularly exhausted today. Sometimes this job could get to even a stalwart like her.

When Damonte had first come in, he'd told Jack about a near-death experience he'd once had. "Died on the operating table," he'd said, sounding almost proud of it. "I rose out of my body and was watching them below me, trying to save me. You know, it was beautiful in a way. I felt so easy." He'd looked at Jack. "I'm not afraid."

When Jack walked into Damonte's room, the air had changed, had already gone stiff and lifeless. Damonte had slipped away, unafraid, and when his kids got back from the Blackbird and said their final goodbyes, Jack would prepare his body for transit.

Today, Jack was so thankful to Mr.Hauser for giving him his garden to go to. Nothing was quite like it for renewing his spirit.

As he walked toward the community garden entrance, thinking about Damonte, he noticed a woman in green overalls, carrying a garden tote, walk out of the gates and down the street in the opposite direction. His people. He smiled to himself and went in.

The Jacob's ladder was already planted in Plot Nine, along with some pepper plants. The plot was progressing from the overgrown weed lot it had been when he'd first started coming here. It still needed work—there was some sort of problem with the tomatoes. A blight, perhaps? But there was a freshly turned space and some new plants.

Next to Plot Nine, he noticed something else—Walter's award-winning Venus flytraps were gone. That was odd.

At his plot, Jack found a can of iron and a note. He was going to meet this kindly old lady someday. And when he did, maybe he could convince her to join a senior thespian group.