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Pete McVries was under house arrest in Freeport, Maine.
The last two days after winning the walk felt like they’d passed underwater. Voices of reporters and police garbled and distorted through the ringing in Pete’s ears. The law couldn’t decide what to do with Pete yet, so they kept him locked in a cushy hotel room under constant surveillance. Pete couldn’t decide what to do with Pete, either.
If Pete had slept, it was only for bodily exhaustion. The first night, he’d slept like a corpse, stone still with no dreams. Last night, his feet twitched with the belief that they were still walking. This morning, his legs could hardly move. Each strain of muscle felt like razor blades on fire, but Pete winced and stood at the sound of knocks on his door. Each step to cross the few feet of carpet was agonizing. The knocks felt a hundred miles away.
The door was gentle as it opened, revealing a small blonde woman dressed in black, eyes puffy and red with the remnants of tears and sleepless nights. Pete’s heart jumped to his throat.
“Mrs. Garraty—“
Pete had no time to greet her before she threw her arms around him and squeezed tight, apologizing as soon as she let go.
“Sorry, sorry!” Mrs. Garraty—Ginny, Pete remembered, forced a smile, “May I?”
Pete stepped aside and Ginny shuffled in, thanking him before sitting down at the round wooden table beside the window. Pete joined her there, feet dragging as he did, heavy as concrete blocks.
Ginny’s eyes were glassy, Pete’s were too. He’d thought about Ray, sure, but he hadn’t processed it. In his mind, Ray could still come walking through that door at any second, but Ginny’s presence shifted Pete’s thinking. Ray was gone, everyone was gone. There were so many voices that Pete would never hear again, but Ginny’s spoke up.
“You know, when Ray was little, he used to tell me about this boy who he’d met in his dreams.” She shook her head lightly while the ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, “that he always knew the best spots for ice cream, that all his jokes were funny, that they sang songs together, and whenever things got too scary, he’d squeeze Ray’s hand.” A tear fell that Ginny wiped, “and whatever it was that scared him would go away.” Her eye contact with Pete steadied. Pete felt a heavy burden beneath her gaze. “I always thought that maybe he was dreaming about his father,” Ginny reached her hand across the table and took Pete’s, “but, now I know that he was dreaming about you.”
Pete was at a loss for words. His heart accelerated while his breaths hitched in his throat, eyebrows furrowing upwards as they trembled.
Ginny took one of her hands away and reached into her pocket, sniffling as she did so. When it returned, there was a glint of metal between her fingers. With the hand that still held Pete’s, she urged his fingers open, setting the item in his palm and closing his hand around it. Pete didn’t need to see it to know what it was. He gripped it tight.
“Are you sure?” Pete asked, voice far weaker than it ever was on the walk.
Ginny nodded.
“But I wasn’t able to bring him back to you, I wasn’t able to—“
“Pete.” Ginny shook her head while her thumb traced the top of Pete’s knuckles, “when Ray left the car, I never thought I’d see him smile again. But I did. You made that happen.” Her tears fell, uninhibited, “you made him happy when he needed it most.”
Pete’s lip trembled, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Garraty. I tried,” he gasped in a breath, blinking as his own tears raced down his face, landing on the table, “I tried to get him to you, I tried. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s not.” Ginny was sure of all she said, though her voice wavered. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for him, Pete. He loved you like I haven’t seen him love anyone. And because he loved you, I love you, too. I wish we hadn’t met this way. In another time, in another place, he’s bringing you over for dinner at Christmas. He’s sitting at the table with all of us, and he’s the happiest he’s ever been.” She paused. “Ray had a good heart, and he chose you. And knowing him, he would’ve chosen you again and again.”
“I miss him.” Pete started, “I keep turning and thinkin’ he’ll be next to me. But he’s not. I still hear him laughing.” He paused, his knee bounced. “I never got to say it back to him.”
Ginny nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, “He knows. That’s why he wasn’t afraid to go.“
Before Ginny left, she held Pete in a longer embrace.
“You’re family now, okay?” Her hand held the side of Pete’s face as she pulled away, “anything you need, I’ll do what I can. Oh—and, one more thing.” This time, she didn’t reach into her pocket, but her purse. She revealed a small photo, handing it to Pete. “It’s one of the shots the film crew got.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Garraty, for this—for coming to see me.”
“Ginny is fine.” She mustered up one final smile, giving Pete’s shoulder a squeeze, “I’ll make sure you get out of here for the service. Ray wouldn’t want one if you weren’t there.”
Ginny was gone then, leaving behind a whirlwind of feeling.
Pete allowed the metal object to hang from his hand, Ray’s dog tag. He sunk to the floor, holding it to his chest as he examined the photo. In it, Ray and Pete had their arms around each other while they laughed about something underneath the big, hot sun. That moment would always be, Pete reasoned. Time wasn’t an irreversible march, but a long mountain range where everything existed simultaneously. Somewhere, he and Ray were laughing forever.
The dog tag was warm from being in Pete’s hand. He smoothed his thumb over the numbers before pressing it to his lips.
“I’ll find you again, Ray. I promise. Next time we'll be somewhere else. Next time’ll be better.”
Pete slipped Ray’s tag around his neck with no intentions of ever removing it. Whether he was to be freed, jailed, or executed, Ray would be at his side until his eyes closed for the last time.
“And in case you don’t know, I love you too.”