Goodbye, Daniel

Chapter 1
To Finally Say Goodbye

Chapter Description: A little story idea that cane to me when I realized we'd rarely seen someone who's had time to come to terms with their change, and has started to settle into their new life as another person. I've been playing with this story for a bit, and I think I've just about got it where I want it. I hope you enjoy this little story.

"It’s right here." said the boy in Sally’s car, pointing to the apartment complex he’d spent the last four and a half years in.

She gently applied the brakes, and spun the wheel towards the place she’d been directed to. It wasn’t hard to find a parking spot once she was in the lot. She pulled into the empty space, and went through the quick mindless process of parking.

Sally did not look at the boy in the passenger seat. She could not.

How could it be possible after all these years? How could he really be there right next to her after being missing for five long years? That little boy who could be no older than nine or ten years old, how could that be the man she loved? How could this child have his face? It was his face exactly, down to the small scar above his left eye. Those were his eyes looking at her, and they carried a deeper sadness to them than any child ever should. The boy’s lips pulled together in that same way that his always did when he was trying to be reassuring in a serious situation. When he spoke, it was in that same very dramatic fashion that she’d only ever heard in the movies.

He never did know quite how to behave in the real world, she thought. And so he seemed to imitate what he saw in the movies, as though all this time he were just a little kid who did a very good job of playing a grown up... only now he really was a little kid. It was Daniel who sat next to her tonight, beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was him, no matter how much she wished it weren’t.

"Sally?" he said, "Are you okay?"

She tried to take a deep breath, but she just couldn’t summon up the strength. "I’m okay, I’m just... It’s just that..." Sally closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, then continued, "I just can’t believe that... after all these years... you’re..."

"I’m sorry, Sally. I never wanted to leave you." Daniel said as he reached for Sally’s hand, "I used to walk by your house on the way to school... and every day, I promised myself that I’d go to your door and tell you, but..."

"But you didn’t have the guts to do it. To tell me you weren’t dead." she snapped, "I waited five years for you. Everyone said you were dead, that you weren’t coming back, and just when I’m finally ready to accept that fact..."

"If I’d told you, would you have believed me?"

"I barely believe you now." she said.

"I know." he sighed, and he did understand. Five years on, and he himself still had trouble fully processing what happened.

"I’m sorry, Dan. It’s just... I want to be mad, I want to hate you for everything you’ve done to me... but as much as this has hurt me, I know you’ve been through so much more. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like... what it must be like."

"That’s not important, Sally."

"It is to me. I love you, Dan, and I want to know what happened to you. I just want to be there for you." she turned to him then, and quickly realized just what she was asking him to do when she saw his gently drawn lips begin to quiver slightly, though he tried to hide it, "I... I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me, I... I really do mean it, please, just... I wish I hadn’t said anything, now."

The silence in the car became a tangible thing. It was Daniel who finally broke it.

"At first I was in shock." he began slowly, "Nothing looked or felt right anymore. I was taken from my home, my family, my friends. My whole life had been taken from me all at once. Even my own thoughts didn’t feel right. It was like being high, or drunk, but being just sober enough to realize that feeling will never go away. I could barely think straight about anything." he said, a slight tremble sneaking into his voice, "But the thing that hurt the most this whole time was knowing how much I’d hurt you, Sally."

"No, Danny, you didn’t do anything to me." she said quickly, trying her very best to sooth the trembling child next to her, "It’s not your fault, Dan. It’s not your fault."

As she reached over to him, and took him in her arms, the tears finally came in his eyes, and he gave up the fight to hold them back, "I thought I’d never see you again."

"I’m here, Danny." she said, "I’m here."

They stayed like that for a long time, not moving a muscle, except perhaps to pull one another tighter into their sad embrace. As the engine cooled off, they could feel the frosted air creeping in through the doors and windows around them. Goose pimples rose on their arms as they held each other close on this cold winter night.

---

Two people walked down the long hallway of the apartment complex. The walls were a simple white and grey, painted a pale blue by the fluorescent lights above them. One of them was a young woman in her early thirties named Sally, and holding her hand was a boy who looked no older than ten. As they drew near to a door marked 334, Sally’s face fell a touch, and she slowed her pace considerably.

"Wait," she said, "Are they the ones who..."

Daniel looked up at her. "No," he said, "they’re just the ones who adopted me. I don’t think I’ll ever really know who or what did this to me, only that it wasn’t them."

"You don’t have to go back to them." she said, "If you like, I could take care of you. We could be together again.

Daniel smiled sadly, "I wish that were true. But even if I could do that, it wouldn’t be fair to them." he nodded to the door, "They’re good people, Sally, and they genuinely care about me."

Sally tried to smile, but gave up. "I care about you too."

"I know." he replied, "We can still see each other. You can come visit from time to time, or we could meet up... This doesn’t have to be goodbye, Sally."

"I guess not." she said, although part of her suspected these rendezvous would never really come to pass. No parent would ever feel fully comfortable with their child befriending a strange woman. She put on a brave face, though.

Danny knocked gently on the door in front of them, and didn’t have long to wait before it was opened by a middle aged blond woman.

"Austin!" she said, trying to sound more angry than relieved, and failing, "Where have you been, we’ve been so worried about you."

"I’m sorry, mom." Daniel, or Austin as she knew him said, "I missed the bus, but this nice woman here gave me a ride." he pointed to Sally with a smile.

"Oh, thank you so much, miss," the woman said, reaching out to shake Sally’s hand, "I don’t know what we’d do without our little boy. Thank you for bringing him home."

"Oh, that’s okay, it really was no problem," Sally said, looking him in the eye, "he’s a wonderful guy. And he was so sweet that I was happy to help out."

He smiled broadly at her, then, as he stood holding his new mother’s hand.

"Well, I’m so glad you did. Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, no, thank you." Sally said, not quite ready for that yet, "I have to get going. You have a nice evening. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, miss. Drive safely."

"Goodbye, Sally." said the little boy at the woman’s side.

Sally smiled sadly at him and said, "Goodbye, Austin."

She turned around then and walked back down the hallway, listening to the two shuffling back into their apartment, and the gentle sound of the woman half heartedly scolding "Austin" for talking to strangers, until she heard the door shut behind them.

She stopped then, and looked back towards the door marked 334, holding back the urge to run back in there, steal Daniel away from this woman who treated him like a child, and drive away, drive away forever. But she didn’t run back to him. She didn’t even go back for that cup of coffee. She simply stared at the door to the apartment her former lover had lived in for the past four and a half years, and where he would continue to live for a few years more at least.

She could always come to visit, he’d said, but deep down she knew she wouldn’t. She would never set foot in this apartment complex again.

"Goodbye, Daniel."