Fire turns on the cold water and steps into the shower. The stream plunges him into reverie...

The cold dry winter air of December hung over Aidan’s head. He was kneeling on fresh fallen snow, which laid upon a raised plot of dirt. A stone tablet functioned as a head stone for the makeshift grave with the words “Eldr, life’s companion”. The air sent frozen thrills down Aidan’s spine yet he kneeled in time and silence with tears rolling down his face.

Aidan was kneeling down, remembering the events that happened during the summer of 1971. Specifically, June 20th, his 17th birthday. Although Dad was fighting a war half a world away, everything felt hopeful to Aidan. He was 17 with a life ahead of him, ready to carve to his will. So Aidan and Mom celebrated his 17th birthday with Mom’s baked cookies. Then Eldr barked, rose up and went for the door. Aidan smiled, he rose up as well and went for the door.

“You both play safe now, you hear.” Mom shouted.

With a nod, the door opened. Dog and boy walked away into the smiling summer sun. Eldr had aged, his pace much slower than it was whilst Aidan grew in strength and speed.

In the fields of daisies, dog and boy lost each other but quickly found one another. This was the game, losing and reconnecting with themselves over and over again till the sun set.

Aidan’s memory returned to December, when someone placed a coat on his shoulders.

“I am sorry, Aidan.” Dad said. Lt. James Donald had just returned from the war front to celebrate a late Christmas with his family, watching his son weep wasn’t part of the plan.

Aidan stayed silent. Internally, he boiled with an unfathomable rage.

“Let’s walk.” Dad said. Aidan rose slowly and followed after his father whilst Mom, Mary Donald, looked onwards from the house window. The raging snowflakes propelled Aidan’s memory backwards to Christmas day, 5 days ago.

The house came alive with the smell of Christmas, a big turkey. Mom and Aidan had spent the better part of the night putting up decorations for christmas. Aidan had moved the tree, which had to be chopped down even further to fit through the door, into the sitting room. It was usually a father son affair, however dad was off fighting this Christmas but he promised to be home in five days time.

Eldr sat in a silent gloom watching the festivities happening. Eventually, Aidan noticed Eldr’s lack of participation.

“Let’s go on a walk. Come on Eldr.” Aidan urged.

“Be back before sundown.” Mom shouted from the kitchen, she was rounding up the turkey.

Out in the field, the sun was setting. Aidan and Eldr laid resting underneath a giant tree.

“If only you could see color.” Aidan said, “The winter sunset is beautiful.”

Eldr laid, undisturbed and silent.

“Boy, you must really be tired. Best get home then.” Aidan said, rising, “Come on boy.”

No response.

“Eldr. Let’s go home boy.” Aidan said a bit fiercer.

No response, not even a stir.

“Eldr.” Aidan said, but Eldr did not move.

In haste, Aidan checked Eldr’s pulse by placing his hands on Eldr’s inner thigh and listening… But no pulse. He tried again and again but still felt nothing.

Aidan’s heart did a rollover. This cannot be happening.

Aidan began CPR.

1… 2… 3… Air. Nothing. 1… 2… 3… Air. Nothing 1… 2… 3… Air. Nothing.

The pattern continued, the sun fell and the moon rose.

“Aidan! Eldr!” A voice broke through the night sky.

Mom had come looking. Mom found Aidan sitting with Eldr in his laps.

“Aidan! I was so worried. You were supposed to be home hours ago…” Mom said, then looked into Aidan’s teared up eyes and asked, “Honey, what happened?”

Mom observed Eldr’s silence.

“Oh.” Mom said. She checked Eldr’s pulse but nothing. She noted Aidan’s jagged breathing, he had attempted CPR and ended up crying.

Mom rose up with a sigh and pointed in the direction of the house with her flashlight.

Aidan stood up. He carried Eldr in his arms and followed behind in silence.

Aidan and Dad have arrived at the barn. They ascended the stairs and looked out the barn window, watching the sunset turn to the night sky. They sat for hours in silence.

“WHY!” Aidan shouted explosively.

“Because you loved him.” Tom responded patiently.

“WHY does it HURT so much dad?” Aidan asked in rage.

Aidan’s memory leaps 5 days backwards again.

Winter was unforgiving but yet he kept working. Shovel in, foot down, push dirt up, and over. Repeat. Aidan had kept this up for hours. Beside him laid Eldr wrapped in white cloth.

As the sun set, Aidan laid Eldr gently into the hole as Mom watched nearby.

Aidan pulled himself up and covered the grave. He placed the head stone and sat there.

“Maybe if I had listened closer. Perhaps I could’ve saved him. Maybe. Just maybe.” Aidan said.

Dad hugged Aidan. Aidan resisted but eventually fell into gasps of tears.

Aidan thought back to when he was eight. He rode on Eldr like a king rode on his horse.

Sob after sob and Dad held his boy close.

“Death comes as every circle must close.” Dad said.

“But why?” Aidan said through tears.

“Wiser men have pondered that through the years with no response.” Dad said. “It is inevitable.”

“Then why should I live if I’ll end up just dying.” Aidan said.

Silence.

“To be remembered. Just like you remember Eldr. It hurts so much. I know it does but the dead must be remembered, it is how they are kept alive.” Dad said.

“Everyday, the sun dies and is reborn. Life is a journey Aidan and death is the second part of that journey. I do not know where the dead go but I know they keep going. Can you do that Aidan?” Dad asked.

“It still hurts.” Aidan said.

“Time. Give it time.” Dad said.

A few days passed.

Breakfast time was silent. Eldr’s absence was felt so strongly…

“Mail from the Marines. It’s for you Aidan.” Mom said, handing the letter to Aidan.

He opened it and scanned its contents.

“So… what does it say?” Dad asked.

“I got in.” Aidan said.

“And do you accept it?” Mom asked.

Aidan rose and walked to the backdoor.

As he did so, he turned and said “Yes. I want to be remembered as well.”

...Back to the present day. Fire shuts off the shower.

“This is my reset.” Fire says to himself, “My chance to rewrite my legacy and be remembered.”