dearly departed | dorothy&blackston

Blackston Hope

For the better part of his life, Blackston had felt blessed.

Not so much that his family hadn’t seen hardship. There was poor Birdie who seemed one incident away from an institution; his grandmama Mathilda who’d died so unfortunately in a sledding incident; his uncle Pierre with his mayorship and health scare; and if he delved further into the cousins, could name any manner of issues between them and their families.

No, Blackston had done his best to serve them – just as the scripture he read, no matter how they received him, he’d still be the first to lend a hand or show them that things weren’t as bad as they might’ve seemed. That was the way, after all, to show people how much better they could be as a reflection of himself. And as he grew older, he knew that must’ve been what he had been put on this earth to do. He had to make sure that his family, friends, and all that knew him could be certain that as bad as it seemed, things would get better.

Look at him – another year in the reaping bowl and his name hadn’t come out. His prayers had worked, especially when he hyperventilated with his head between his knees when he microphone crackled and he was so certain that they’d call his name. But it wasn’t, it was people he scarcely knew.

And then came the sound of his cousin stepping forward, of the whole world turning on its axis. Blackston had fainted in all the confusion. No one had checked on the poor boy and so he’d woken when the crowd was stirring and heading off in various directions. He had to ask a peacekeeper if his cousin had been one of the ones carted off, to which they’d pointed in the direction of the justice building.

When he entered Dorothy’s holding room, he had paused to get a good look at his cousin. In truth, he didn’t know her too well, but then, his cousins rarely seemed to want to ever spend any time with him.

“Oh I – the peacekeepers,” Blackston answered as though he missed the true manner of the question. “Dorothy, I’m… I wanted to make sure that you knew, that all of us, all the Hopes, I’m sure they’ve said…”

Blackston tripped over his words and cleared his throat.

“Well, we love you, Dorothy. No matter what happens. And know that He loves you too, and I’m going to pray for you every day you’re gone until you come back.” Blackston smiled, proud of himself.