Ephemeris

29 : A Testament

The following week, Daniel was basking under the sun. Weightlessness was but a forgotten dream. He missed gliding in the air so much, doing somersaults and acrobatics like a pro. Hauling a cumbersome object, like a collapsible ladder, was strenuous again. He was becoming impatient, waiting for the colors of nature to reappear and bloom. 

And it has begun with a single whisper, a tender zephyr. The gentle wind became a whistling breeze, a breeze blown across the town carrying a single leaf. The leaf landed at his feet—a healthy, bright green leaf. He looked at the horizon and sunk his toes on the dead earth in expectation of the forthcoming bank of clouds—a thunderhead. His anticipation did not disappoint him. The giant gray raincloud chose to pour its tears over the town's parched soil.

It started as a drizzle, which then grew into a rain shower, which then turned into a thunderstorm, which later evolved into a deluge. Townsfolk bathed and didn't quit fooling around under the downpour. They laid drums, basins, buckets, pitchers, dippers, mugs, cups, and everything that could hold water. Nearby lightning and crackling thunders made them wilder and fiercer. Even the youngsters and his mother shrieked in exhilaration. They were like hominids, out of the cave, too ignorant, witnessing lightning and precipitation for the first time. In some places on the planet, people held festivals when it started to rain, for it was the most precious grace from above to bless their lands.

Weeks turned into months, and the vegetation flourished, but there was no word about his father. How could they gather some updates if satellite televisions, radios, cables, and the internet connection were down? They were nevertheless lucky because the other half of their photovoltaic roof was functional. They could boil water and reheat their food. Every so often, Daniel would lean against the garage door peering outside the driveway gate while holding his cracked phone with a wallpaper of a happy family—a photo of him in the middle, his dad on his right, and his mom on his left with a baby bump. He still desired that his father would return as he could believe he would live. He popped the earpieces in and tapped the screen, playing hopeful music to drown his yearning out.

His mother was in the garden yanking all the weeds and cutting the limp brown stems off. A lonely protuberance caught her attention on an offshoot. Then all of a sudden, it grew into a flower—a daisy. Everything went in slow motion, and her hearing was stifled for the fleeting wonder.

As the tranquil setting enveloped them, the serene silence was abruptly shattered by the thunderous roar of a chopper reverberating in the distance. Daniel and Ynsia's eyes widened in alarm as they instinctively looked up to the vast expanse of the sky, their gazes scanning the horizon in search of the elusive aircraft that had disrupted their tranquility. However, to their bewilderment, no flying machine appeared, leaving them perplexed and captivated by the mysterious source of the thunderous sound that seemed to defy the laws of reality.

From the worm's eye view, they noticed a cottony cloud concealing something from them. Daniel supposed that perhaps it was part of the instrumental, a sound effect of the music he was listening to. Ynsia believed that it was her imagination.

A screeching sound of their decrepit gate rebounded to the four corners of their concrete fence. It sounded scary, like in horror movies, sending shivers down their spines and filling the atmosphere with an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Someone was yanking off the latch, and then the gates flung apart. Their hearts were hammering in their chests.

The setting sun's golden hues tenderly embraced the man's ruggedly handsome face, casting a radiant glow that highlighted the captivating depth of his amber-flecked emerald eyes. He scratched the mole at the corner of his left eye.

"Dad," whispered Daniel.

"Gale," uttered Ynsia.

They went still, and their gaze did the talking, resonating their unspoken apologies and sentiments to one another.

Gale lifted his gaze, his radiant irises fixating on the cloud drifting above their roof, as he tipped his head back in awe of its ethereal presence.

Daniel and Ynsia did the same.

As the wind gently swept across the sky, the lone white cloud gracefully danced, unveiling the celestial orb. The unbidden tears of joy pooled in their alight eyes, looking at the glorious argentine moon stuck in the vastness and mystery of the heavenly dome. Sublime as the Great Architect of the Universe's unparalleled works, the revived moon filled their empty vessels with awe and reverie, leaving their hearts pounding in passionate dulcet cadence.

Tragedies had strengthened their bond. Love was the light, and evil was the symbiotic phantom. Both of them coexisted, revolving around and synchronizing things in equilibrium.

Their story was a testament to that expression.