Socket 3 - The Legend of Socket Greeny (28 page)

The vision, fulfilled.

I return to my body. Chute’s standing in
front of me, leans her forehead against my chin.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave,” I whisper.

Sadness intermingles with love. Tears run.
She died long ago, but she’s there with me. I close my eyes and
sink into the sensation, wishing it could be real. Grateful to at
least have this.

And while my eyes are closed and we’re
rocking each other in an embrace, I hear the ocean. It sounds like
waves are breaking just beyond the grimmet tree. I slowly walk up
the slab, listening to it get louder. As I approach the ledge, my
mother appears next to my father. And then Spindle. Pon is there
and the Commander, too. They greet me with handshakes, hugs and
more tears. But as I look past the tree, it’s not the Preserve I
see. Everything is replaced by an ocean of people. It’s like the
universe came to listen to a concert, pressed together and
extending out to the horizon. And when they see me, they roar.
Swinging their arms, all different sizes and colors, all
cheering.

“Who are they?” I ask.

“That’s the universe,” Streeter says. “Chute
and I may be digital reproductions, but those are real people out
there.”

I look at my entourage. Mother and Father
smile. The Commander nods. Pon looks on approvingly and Spindle’s
faceplate splashes with color. The tree squabbles and hundreds of
grimmets look down with golden, glowing eyes. Rudder drops onto my
shoulder, wraps his tail around my neck, purring against my cheek.
I can feel Pivot is somewhere. I can’t see him, but his presence is
unmistakable. It feels like home.

“You’re a legend,” Streeter says. “They’ve
been telling your story for thousands of years. They just want to
say thank you.”

I’m vibrating with the essence of millions of
souls, like I can feel each of their thoughts, their emotions, and
their presence. It streams through me like water. I thought I had
no soul, that I was a duplicate. But maybe Streeter’s right; maybe
I became something else. Maybe not human, but something real. I
understand the pain of suffering and the rise of happiness, too. I
know the human experience.

The crowd cheers for me like they’re the
lucky ones to see a legend. The sound is deafening and the ground
quakes. Chute hooks her finger around mine. Her pulse beats into my
palm.

I want to tell them they are wrong. They’re
not the lucky ones.

I am.

Tony Bertauski lives in Charleston, SC with
his charming wife, Heather, and two great kids, Ben and Maddi. He’s
a teacher at Trident Technical College and a columnist for the Post
and Courier. He’s published textbooks, novels and short
stories
.
You can always find out more at bertauski.com.