Date: Fri, 3 Sep 2004 22:47:24 -0400 (EDT)
From: Sean Roberts <seanr_13@yahoo.ca>
Subject: The Silver Compass - 19

The Silver Compass
By: Sean Roberts

Author's Note: So it's coming to an end.  I would like to thank everybody
who has written me so far, your feedback is much appreciated.  Please send
any comments to seanr_13@yahoo.ca

After the meal he told his parents and his brother that he
was going for a walk.  The houses were all the same on the icy
street.  The only differences lay in the colour of brick which
the darkness concealed; and the landscaping of the gardens,
hidden by the snow.

He walked for half a block and then retreated under the
shadow of a tree created by a street lamp.  He lit a cigarette.
He had become a small, orange dot in the darkness.

He dropped the end of his cigarette into the snow and
quickly went back home.  He shouldn't have gone out like that.
He hated the question he knew he would be asked.  They would
want to know why he needed a walk at night in the freezing cold
while they were in the warm house, watching television and
sipping hot chocolate.  To smoke.  He could not say that.  They
trusted him.  They knew he was trying to turn his life around;
to steer it in the right direction.

He stepped into the house.  His brother walked up to him.

"You okay?"  He nodded his
head.  Matthew was the only one who realized the effect
Cameron's death had on Michael.  He was the only one who
understood how much Michael loved him and what it had taken for
his brother to give him up.  But the look on his face told
Michael that he could do nothing to help.  "The hot chocolate's
ready."

"Thanks."  He took off his shoes and coat.  "I'll be right
there!" he yelled into the kitchen.  He ran upstairs to his
closet and pulled out a box.  The wrapping paper, though ripped,
was still on it.  He pulled out the contents of the box and
stared at it.  Okay.  I've picked a direction.  It's permanent.
But this thing doesn't tell me if it's the right one.

He finally allowed himself to begin crying.  He looked
outside his window and stared towards the moon.  It was a full,
silver circle.  The same shape and colour as the watch.  A
sudden memory flooded his mind.  He remembered laughter, the
sand in his hair and in the socks he forgot to remove.  He
remembered a kiss that drowned him in warmth.  "That's the
direction I should have taken," he said out loud.  "That's the
direction I took the night I met him.  It would have made me
happy; it would have made him happy.  Sarah and Matthew would
have come to accept it."

He returned the gift to its box.  He had no more use for
it.  He knew that from now on, he needed to follow only his
heart.

The End