I Can Make This Promise: Chapter 28–Epilogue

I remember the cabin’s interior was shadowy, but in the background I could see a rocking chair. And a pile of blankets on top of an ottoman.

“I rang the doorbell a second time. We’d come so far, and I hated the idea of turning back without at least talking to someone. And just as we were about to give up, a man stepped into view inside the house. With the shadows, neither of us could see his face, but it was clear from his size and stature that this was a man. A very large, strong-looking man...."

“He stared at us in silence, for what felt like whole minutes. It was a little unnerving, considering how we couldn’t see his face while he looked back at us. But we held our ground, and I held your mother’s hand. We endured the inspection...."

The three of us sit like this for a while, listening to the birds chatter in the trees and watching the gentle waves lap against the shore. We wait for Mom to regain her composure.

And the most unexpected person of all comes flying toward me, her arms flailing as she shrieks, “SURPRISE!”

“He said she was always impulsive like that, and she always loved movies. She grew up watching everything in black and white, because their mother refused to splurge on a color TV.”

“He said she was always impulsive like that, and she always loved movies. She grew up watching everything in black and white, because their mother refused to splurge on a color TV.”

She presses the power button, and the television hums to life in a blur of static.

Theo’s memories of his father were few and vague, because he was born in 1948, and his father enlisted in 1951.

To support the household, my grandmother worked as a maid at a country club in Kingston. She also took on various domestic service jobs from some of the club’s members.

And Edith was young and idealistic, maybe a little naive.

Edith planned to give birth here, with the assistance of a midwife.

Edith was in high spirits, and still insisted she felt fine, but the physical exertion was starting to wear on her.

People stared as they hobbled along.

Theo’s car was parked under the viaduct.

But if she could find the strength to get help in that moment, to put herself in such a vulnerable position—once again, he couldn’t deny her.

The first thing he wanted to verify was Edith’s marital status.

Throughout the interrogation, Theo and Edith tried to remain strong and sweet and open.

“Because my mother was an unmarried woman, who was flighty and irresponsible, since she got pregnant while she was off chasing unrealistic dreams in California. Because my uncle was a convicted criminal, who was political and radical and possibly violent, since he dared to take a stand as a Native activist...."

“Because my mother was an unmarried woman, who was flighty and irresponsible, since she got pregnant while she was off chasing unrealistic dreams in California. Because my uncle was a convicted criminal, who was political and radical and possibly violent, since he dared to take a stand as a Native activist...."

“This is why my mother didn’t want to give birth in a hospital. This is why she and my uncle tried so hard to avoid it, even when she began going into labor in downtown Seattle. They knew that state child welfare and private adoption agencies were actively seeking out Native children. They knew of friends and neighbors and distant relatives whose kids were taken.”

I follow the rise of a rugged, green landscape, dotted with houses and buildings that look so tiny from here, they’re almost unnoticeable.

Dad catches my eye from across the table; he cocks his head and gives me a discreet thumbs-up.

Voices harmonizing and bellowing in a language I’ve never heard before.

A group of boys about our age are skipping rocks across the water, shouting and boisterous.

“I love the love, but can we please try the cake now? Serenity and I need some sugar.” He shoots her a conspiratorial glance. “Right?”

She blinks. Gives a small, breathy laugh. Turns the paper around for him to see. “It’s a movie ticket,” she says. “To an exclusive preview of their short film. Tonight.”

Serenity’s voice says, “Once upon a time, there was a little dog named Bruno.” As she speaks, my animation fades into focus. Bruno sits on his haunches, in the middle of a blurry, pencil-sketched marketplace.

“Bruno was bullied and ostracized, alone and afraid. The city was a large and unforgiving place. Especially for those who seemed different. Especially for those who had no family, no community.”

“Until one day,” Serenity’s voice narrates, “Bruno found a ferry.”