I've bottled up my emotions for seventy years, so I wonder if all this crying I've done lately is those emotions finally being released. I maybe gave one or two sobs for Ted right after learning I killed him, but that was it. I told Natalie about him—only briefly—and didn't cry. After finding Willed in her late teens, she discovered the rest of our story—and has been fighting for me ever since... until now. As she said, it's all because of one mishap that reminds me too much of him. The dog scared her but didn't hurt her, unlike me with Ted, and it's gotten to my head.
And now my grief and anger have broken my cane, but—it's strange.
I unbury my face and study the hand that holds my cane. Nothing's there. My hand is free. I don't know why, but not having my cane feels like a weight off my shoulders. It's like I broke the very object I kept all my memories and trauma in. And now that it's gone, I stand and peer into the sky, letting tears run down my cheeks.
"'Loss hurts,'" Temple had said, "'but it's not the end of the world.'" He also mentioned, "Live in the moment." I can't, not when I carry all these memories with me 24/7 and dwell on them.
Now, look where I am. I just gave up the only reincarnation of my best friend because I was afraid of losing someone else I love. No, I will lose my daughter—and most likely Tallulah and Patriots Point, too—if I don't get that dog back right now.
I turn with the realization and jump when I see Natalie standing before me, holding the two dripping pieces of my cane. "Dad," she nervously asks, "are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, Natalie." Hiccupping, I knock the broken cane out of her hands and hug her. "I'm so sorry, but I've always feared losing someone else I love just as tragically. I'm nothing but a selfish, grumpy old man who's never been there for his daughter when she has for forty years. I'm sorry."
Natalie giggles and returns my hug. "Grumpy? Yes. Selfish? Maybe a little. But"—she pats my neck—"no matter how old you get, you're still my dad, and I love you."
"What did I do to deserve you?" I release Natalie and grasp her cheeks. "My little Natalie."
"You learned to love," Natalie answers, hugging me again, "that's what, Daddy. And now a dog in there needs someone to love him back."
"Are you sure about this?" I inquire, rereleasing her. "Let me be a better dad, Natalie. Tell me what you want right now."
She clutches my wrinkled hands and shakes them. "I want Teddy, Dad, and for you to continue healing at Patriots Point."
"Okay, then it's settled," I say, twirling her in a small circle. "I guess we've got a dog now."
"Eee!" Natalie's face lights up like a spotlight. "Thank you, Daddy! Thank you so much!"
"And thank you for putting up with me," I return.
"Hey"—Natalie kneels and picks up the broken cane, handing it to me—"that's what fathers and daughters do. Don't worry, I'll get you a new cane. This one was old anyway."
"It was," I agree. I tuck the broken cane under my arm and wrap my other one around Natalie's shoulders. "I'm sorry again, Nat." I wipe my eyes and feebly smile when Natalie pecks my cheek.
We re-enter the Humane Society, and I see that Tallulah's holding Teddy now.
The patient worker is with her, her hands in her pockets. When Natalie and I stop before them, she releases them.
Teddy stares me down with his mesmerizing, deep brown eyes.
Letting go of Natalie, I hand her my cane and pat his head, nodding. "Ma'am," I say, glancing at the worker, "we'd like to adopt this dog officially."
"Yes!" Tallulah cheers. She nearly drops Teddy but catches herself in the act.
Teddy's eyes expand, and he wags his tail, offering me his paw.
"You're coming home with Natalie and me," I softly explain. "This time for good."
The worker claps and bounces on her heels. "All right! We'll call the vet and get you started on the paperwork."
The process takes about two hours, but at the end of those two hours, the worker hands Natalie and me a binder with Teddy's medical and adoption records and a bag of food and toys to get us started. She even signs his cast, and Natalie, Tallulah, and I do, too.
Afterward, Natalie and I search the store for a collar for Teddy. It closes in thirty minutes, but the worker says we can take all the necessary time.
"How about this one?" I ask Natalie, showing her a navy blue collar. "Navy blue like the ocean."
"It's perfect, Dad," Natalie says, gesturing at the collar's tag. "It even comes with a tag."
Grins cross our faces, and we shuffle to the counter, paying for the collar.
The worker takes a blue Sharpie and writes Teddy's name on the tag. Before she puts it around his neck, Natalie lifts her hand.
"Wait. If you don't mind, ma'am and Dad, I'd like to put Teddy's collar on."
Her? My daughter, who's scared of dogs?
Natalie seems to read my thoughts because she says, "I need to overcome my fear somehow, Daddy, just like how you've finally unleashed all those hidden emotions."
I can't believe her. This came from Natalie. She does want to try with Teddy.
Tallulah gently sets him down before Natalie, and she takes the collar from me, kneeling.
Teddy sits tall and doesn't move a muscle. His tail twitches, so that tells me he's nervous.
Natalie is, too, but she inhales and stops her hands from shaking. I wonder what's going through her head right now. She's never put a collar on a dog before—she was always too scared.
But here she is. With one last inhale, Natalie slips the collar over Teddy's neck and cuddles him. "Thank you, Teddy, for saving my dad. You are officially a Beckington."
I swear that I almost see a tear in Teddy's eye. His tail wags faster, and he leaps into Natalie.
My eyes widen, and I begin reaching for her, but I stop midway when Teddy licks Natalie's cheek, and she laughs. She laughs! This is the first time she's ever laughed around a dog and let one kiss her.
I did overreact, didn't I? Not only that, but I almost made another enormous mistake. I don't know if Natalie would've ever given another dog a chance if I had followed through with getting rid of Teddy. As a better dad to both her and him, I will help Natalie through her fear, as well as Teddy, because I know he's scared of accidentally hurting her, and he doesn't need to be. I learned this today, and I hope to keep learning while I continue at Patriots Point with Tallulah, my daughter, and now our dog.
As we leave the Humane Society and pass the fountain again, Tallulah grips my shoulder. "Bill, I meant to ask this earlier." Her eyes roll down to the broken pieces of my cane, which I'm carrying now. "What happened to your cane?"
I answer with a smirk and stumble to a trash can on the parking lot's edge. I dump my old cane in it and offer Natalie my hand. She happily accepts, and I admit, "Ah, it was getting old. It's time for a new one—a new beginning." I wink at Tallulah and then Natalie. "Now, Tallulah, about that boat ride to Drum Island...?"
"Drum Island?" Natalie raises an eyebrow. "Boat ride? What is this, Dad?"
I squeeze her hand and kiss her forehead. "It's a thank you, Natalie, for everything."
And it is.
We head out to Drum Island the day before my next shift at Patriots Point and bring Teddy.
He rests in the back of Tallulah's Whaler with Natalie and me, and his tongue flaps with the salty air while we zoom across the Charleston Harbor toward the Cooper River Bridge and Drum Island.
Tallulah's Whaler is a little on the older generation side, but it runs perfectly, and we're in the shade under her blue Bimini top.
Natalie and I, wearing sunhats, shirts, and glasses, move apart so Teddy can lie between us on the cozy cushions. We shake him awake when we pull up to Drum Island, a little island behind the Cooper River Bridge in the marsh. It smells like pluff mud but is quiet since we're not in the main harbor. The sun's hidden behind the bridge, allowing for extra artificial AC, so we spend an hour here.
I remain in the boat with Teddy, but Natalie and Tallulah search Drum Island's sand mounds for shark teeth.
While they do that, I open the cooler and draw a bag of boiled peanuts. Natalie and Tallulah need to hurry because I like these things too much and know what will happen after one peanut.
The girls catch onto this and return to the boat, sitting around me.
Natalie slaps her thighs and inquires, "Boiled peanuts? Don't mind if we do, Dad."
I chuckle and playfully pull the bag away from her and Tallulah, who reach for it like little kids. After a minute, I explain, "Okay, I'll stop pestering you now," and lower the bag.
We spend the next ten minutes eating peanuts and waving hello to a few dolphins in the harbor. It's been a long time since I've enjoyed life this much.
Our final stop after Drum Island is the USS Yorktown on the portside that faces the harbor. Tallulah anchors beside it, and we gratefully examine the majestic aircraft carrier. She's stuck in forty feet of mud and not going anywhere, which is more than fine. It's nostalgic, and I feel that nostalgia.
Natalie stores her small handful of shark teeth and stands with me in the Whaler, Teddy and Tallulah surrounding us.
We wave at a few people on Yorktown's Flight Deck, and I feel a small tear dripping down my cheek when I see Ted and me standing on Valley Forge's Flight Deck all those years ago.
I bring my hand to my forehead and give the Navy salute. Then, in a slightly choked voice, I sing the Navy Hymn.
"Eternal Father, strong to save. Whose arm hath bound the restless wave."
Natalie and Tallulah mimic my gesture and join in on the hymn. It isn't long until we're reciting it together in honor of my Theodore Eldon and all those military personnel who weren't as lucky as me.
"Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep. Its own appointed limits keep. O hear us when we cry to thee. For those in peril on the sea... Eternal Father, grant, we pray, to all Marines, both night and day... Be with them always in the air, in darkening storms or sunlight fair."
Something crosses my mind. Every time I've yelled, "I hate you, Ted!" I always thought I meant something else because I didn't hate him, not even when he admitted he was queer. I never thought I would finally be strong enough to say these words to him, but I am. "I hate you, Ted," is not that, but...
"I love you, Ted," I say aloud, giving one last salute.
Teddy leans against me, and Natalie lays her head on my shoulder. "Dad, I think you're ready now," she says, lifting it.
Ready? Ready for what?
I give Natalie a bewildered look, and she nods. "Tallulah."
She returns Natalie's nod and takes my shoulder. "Bill..." Slight anger glosses her eyes, but she quickly replaces it with joy. "Natalie and I have been working with Temple for a few weeks on this." Tallulah lets my shoulder go and studies Yorktown one more time. "Sometime tomorrow during your shift, we have something for you. You've heard us talking about it."
Natalie jumps in. "That's right. William Beckington..." She holds me next. "It's time for your 'big' surprise."