- Once you get him talking, he never shuts up. But, anyways, Zara, what do you say? Want to go out with us?
- Yeah, sure I’ll go out. Where were you thinking? Obviously you’re in charge here.
-This is my younger sister, Tara. Tara, this is Zara, a friend.
-Nice to meet you, Zara. Kishan hasn’t told me about any of his friends in school. I was starting to think he was some kind of loser with no friends…I mean, I still think he secretly is a loser. Just wink if he’s paying you to pretend to be his friend.
-Kishan’s great. He actually doesn’t pay nearly enough for fake friends so he actually had to use that great charm of his to win me over.
Bailey didn’t mean to rude but it was hard to manage Kishan’s sister showing up with gifts and letters. It wasn’t as if this had been easy, dealing with Kishan’s death had defined the last year of her life. All of her choices lead back to that moment, and here she was another new pieces to place into the puzzle. “Thank you Tara, really. Seeing you has made my month.” She smiled as she spoke holding the present and the letter under hand, still not exactly sure what she should be doing right now. Bailey nodded in agreement with her words, should she tell her about the Grid? Bailey wasn’t sure but it felt wrong to not, give her that change. “Today? That too bad, you can’t stay any longer?”
Tara smiled at Bailey, happy that she could cheer her up. She liked Bailey and was glad that she still stayed in touch. “Well...” She raised her eyebrows. “I think I could afford to stay longer,” she said. She spent so many days working and doing stuff for school that sticking around for a while longer might be a nice change. It’d be fun, especially if she could spend it with a friend. Plus, she was about to graduate and she knew her grades wouldn’t suffer if she played hooky. “Do you have any plans for the next couple of days?”
“Of course he wrote letters.” Bailey said with a small smile on her face at the thought.There was something so very Kishan about it. Like part of him had known what would happen, like he’d seen it in the stars. Reaching her hand out she took the envelope in her hand, staring down at it. Whatever it said Bailey was sure it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for how vastly she missed him, how her hurt was. So she just lingered there for a moment the letter in her hands. “Thanks Tara, I’ll read it. I just can’t…” her sentence trailed off, knowing Tara would be understanding of what she’d been saying. What the letter said wasn’t for her any more, it was for a Bailey who didn’t really exist any longer. One thing was clear now to Bailey. She had to get back to The Grid.
“How long are you in town?” She asked smiling and trying to change the subject.
"Oh, it’s okay. Go ahead and read it whenever you’re ready,” Tara said, waving her hands. “I just wanted to give it to you now before I left.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box that was wrapped in a beige wrapping paper and a black bow. “He...also left this. I don’t know if it was for a late Christmas or birthday present or something, but it was labeled and left behind in his room.” She passed the box across the table over to Bailey. There were other letters and boxes labeled for some people from his friend group, but not much else written about them. “I understand this must be difficult. None of us really got a proper goodbye, you know? I sit there, just thinking about what I’d say to him if I had a chance to say goodbye. I wonder what his last words were or what they’d be if we saw him before he died,” she said. “I still think about what I’d give to just have one more moment with him.” She wrapped her hands around her mug and welcomed Bailey’s change of subject. “I was here for a tech conference and it ended earlier. Today’s technically my last day, but I don’t really need to be back to class until the day after tomorrow. So, I might stick around and explore some of the city before I go back.”
Bailey showed Tara the way to her favorite coffee spot, they order drinks and found a seat. Car rush by the window as they and Bailey listen closely as Tara began to speak. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I sort fell off the map for while, got lost in work.” Bailey knew it might not be the healthiest way to deal but she was feeling better. So that and to mean something. God it had been a year, it felt like yesterday and five years ago at the same time. How was it that possible. Bailey smiled at the mention of Kishan being close to the stars, she looked down into her drink. “That sound perfect Tara, but you don’t owe me anything. Kishan and I were…” Bailey trailed off a bit trying to fin the best way to word this. “We were getting to know each other, whatever your family choose to do is right by my me.” Part of Bailey wished she had been there, wished she could do more, but her life was here in Boston. When Tara mentioned there was something else Bailey looked up at her with question in her eyes. “Letters?” She asked, her heart sank. The Grid how much did Tara know.
Tara took a sip of her tea and sighed softly. “I know, but you were one of his closer friends. You, June, and Zara, and since Wes hasn’t been around....” She pursed her lips together, refusing to say anything more about Wes and the resentment she felt. “I just thought you’d like to know because I haven’t really told anyone else what we did.” She leaned over to pull out some things from her bag, which included letters for everyone from his friend group and some other little things here and there. She remembered the rest of everything he wrote. The notes Kishan made were passed on to Sebastian to help him with whatever project he was working on. The journals he left behind were kept by Tara. She spent hours pouring over them trying to figure out the strange computer program he’d been working on, but she figured Bailey wouldn’t want to hear about all of that boring tech stuff. “Yes, letters. He left one for everyone. This one is yours,” she said, passing a letter in an envelope that had Bailey’s name on it.
- I have a picture with him. It’s silly. I don’t know if it’s something you or your parents would want. If this was the last photo, your family should have it.
- You should keep it. It’s yours. Kishan would want you to have it…remember all the good times you two had.
“Boston just about the worst for that.” Bailey said thinking of how much she paid each month for her place. “Yeah coffee sounds great,” Bailey hadn’t been doing much anyway and she’d always make time for Tara. Bailey tried to hide it but each time she looked at Tara she could almost hear Kishan. It was good, though, good to feel like he was close.
Tara walked side by side with Bailey over to the coffee shop and ordered a cup of tea. Once Bailey got herself a drink, they went to a small table for two by the window. “So...I haven’t really spoken to you a whole lot since the memorial a year ago,” she said, wringing her hands nervously. This was the first time she really, really talked about what happened a year ago since it all happened. “I just wanted to let you know that Kishan was cremated and his ashes were scattered at sea and the rest of his...remains were mixed together with this redwood tree seed. It’s like this whole thing where they plant you in the ground with the tree and you become fertilizer for the tree and then it grows. I thought it’d be a good idea to have him be a part of a redwood tree since they’re the tallest trees and then he’d always...be able to see the stars.” It felt weird to talk about it now since all of her other friends were there with her or heard about it first hand. “But that wasn’t the only thing I wanted to talk to you about. I didn’t feel ready to bring it up a year ago, but I think I am now. Kishan left a lot of stuff behind and it included journals...notes...letters....”
Bailey lifted her arms and hugged Tara back, happy for the bit of comfort the young woman offered. “Yeah, it’s really good to see you.” She recalled seeing Kishan in the Grid before falling off the map. For a moment she thought of telling Tara but didn’t really know-how. “The real world isn’t so bad, at least you paid in the real world,” Bailey added with a shrug.”Yeah excited, glad to be back in a familiar place.”
“That is true. Getting paid more than minimum wage would be nice. Rent prices are all going up everywhere you look,” Tara said with a light laugh. "Want to go grab a quick cup of coffee?” Tara asked Bailey. She didn’t really want to give her the letter and everything on the sidewalk in the middle of the campus. She pointed towards the coffee shop that was behind her. “I wanted to talk to you about something...about...Kishan.”
Tagging: Tara Ahuja
Time & Location: March 20th, 2019 @ San Francisco, CA
Word Count: 785
Summary: Tara holds the funeral back home for Kishan.
Side Notes: 4 of ~4 mini self paras
Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the people crossed back and forth in front of Tara. She’d practiced smiling in the mirror before walking out to the reception after Kishan’s funeral. It was very different from the memorial that she and Bailey planned back in Boston. Here there were older friends and family. Old friends from school, family friends, former colleagues, and distant relatives she hardly spoke to anymore. The only people missing were her parents who were nowhere to be found. She pulled money out of her own pocket to pay for everything. Tara gave everyone polite smiles and quiet thank yous as people greeted her. It was all the same thing.
“Thank you for coming.”
“He would have been happy to have you here.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Kishan would have loved this.”
Tara smiled and then waved goodbye to a couple of people who headed out. She turned around and then spotted her mother. She was too relieved and happy to see her mother to be angry that she missed the service. She pulled her mother into a tight hug and the tears threatened to fall again.
“What are you doing here? Where’s dad? Is he here?” Tara asked, brushing her hair back behind her ear.
“I’m sorry. Your father couldn’t make it. I made it to the end of the service. It was beautiful. You did a wonderful job,” her mother said.
Tara pulled back and frowned at her mother’s words. “He couldn’t make it? To his own son’s funeral?” She furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. She pushed her mother away and put her hand to her forehead. “You couldn’t even make it on time to the service. I-I don’t understand. I don’t get it. Your son, your first born child, dies in a car accident and you leave me, your daughter, to pick up the pieces.”
Someone came up to Tara and her mother and Tara waved them away, not in the mood to talk to anyone else. If she could, she’d want to yell at everyone to leave. She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head again.
“I know, sweetheart, and...and I regret it. I regret all of it. I wish I could have been back in his life. I wanted to, but your father–“
“I don’t care what dad has to say. He does not control your life,” Tara said, holding a hand up so her mother would stop talking. She put her hands on her hips and sniffled a little as she worked so hard to keep the tears from falling. After a few moments of silence, Tara looked back at her mother. “It...It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now.”
Tara let out a shaky sigh and motioned for her mother to follow. She walked through the venue and into one of the back rooms. An urn sat on a table and Tara turned it so the inscription on it faced her mother. “Here’s your son if you want to tell him any last words.” She brushed her hair back again behind her ear and shifted her weight to the other leg as she looked her mother in the eye.
Her mother pressed her lips together into a thin line as her eyes landed on the temporary urn. Her bottom lip began to quiver and tears fell from her eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I should have been there for you,” she said. She looked up at Tara, but her words were directed to the urn on the table. “I never should have listened to your father. I’m going to fix this, okay? I’m going to fix this.” She stepped forward to run her fingers over the urn, tracing each intricate detail carved into the material.
Tara wiped a few tears away from her eyes and she stared down at the ground. “Tomorrow I’m going to scatter some of his ashes at sea. The rest of them are going to be planted with a new redwood tree so he can be tall enough to see the stars every night.”
Her mother wiped her tears away and she pulled her hand away from the urn. “Would you mind if I come with you tomorrow to scatter his ashes?” she asked.
Tara’s gaze softened when her mother asked to be a part of scattering Kishan’s ashes. The corners of her lips tugged back into a small smile. “Yeah...I think Kishan would love that,” she said. She dropped her arms at her sides and headed for the exit into the room where the rest of the reception was being held. “I think we should get back out there.”
“Tara,” Bailey felt the air leave her lungs for a moment her mind filling up with memories of Kishan. The last time she’d been in the grid. His face smiling at her, taking a deep breath Bailey pulled back. “I-I’ve been around mostly working after graduation. I’m a professor now, weird to say out loud.” Bailey without thought rubbed her thumb over the constellation tattoo on her wrist. “Political science and other sociology classes. Freshmen level stuff.”
Tara pulled Bailey into a tight hug. When she pulled back, she smiled at her brother’s friend. “I’m so glad that I ran into you,” she said with a light laugh. “It is weird to say, isn’t it? I can’t believe that I’m graduating and then I’ll be out in the real world.” She felt a small pang of sadness at the thought of Kishan not being at her graduation ceremony. He wouldn’t be there to cheer her on, take (embarrassing) photos, and then hug her as she held up her diploma after crossing the stage. “How have you been doing? Do any kind of traveling or anything like that? Are you excited about teaching?”
“I didn’t imagine I’d be back here so soon, but it’s good to be home,” Bailey said with a smile looking around the campus. “I hope teaching suits me.” She added with sigh.
Tara had been in Boston the last few days for a tech conference and on her last day there, she figured she’d stop by Turing to see how things were going with Kishan’s friends. Plus, she had something to give each of them and she didn’t know all their addresses to mail them. “Hey! Where’ve you been? How are you?” she said with a grin. “I’m sure you’ll do great. What are you teaching? I didn’t even know you wanted to teach.”
“It’s great you could make it, Tara” Javier said to Kishan’s sister with a smile, going ahead to give her a hug. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind, but it was the Mexican in him that very often went for the hug. Besides, it was truly nice seeing her here. The last time the writer saw her had been at his friend’s memorial. “If it tastes as good at it smells, I’m sure we’ll all love it” he assured her, and as someone with a passion for all things culinary, his prediction based on aroma alone indicated a delicious taste awaited. He held out his hands, offering his help to get the large plate she’d brought to the table where Jack had set everything else. “That was considerate of you. Maybe these lot can’t handle their spices but I’m pretty good with spicy food” he told her with a smile, glancing over at the rest of the gang before he looked at her again.
"It’s good to see you, Javier,” Tara said, leaning in to give him a hug. It felt nice to have a hug from one of Kishan’s close friends. She felt like he was still there. Like maybe he could walk through the door at any moment and tell them that everything was a cruel joke or that maybe he’d joined the CIA and had to fake his death. “I also made some dal for any vegan and vegetarian friends,” she added. She followed Javier into the kitchen where the rest of the food went. She leaned against the counter and looked over at the rest of the gang as they all talked and drank and a few others filed in. “Well, next time, I’ll be sure to make a spicier dish as well as a mild dish for you and anyone else who likes a little extra heat. How have you been?”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Tara said with a small smile. “I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to do this, you know?” She was happy to see all of Kishan’s friends together, although they did seem more...distant than before. Distant and disjointed. “I made some butter chicken. I hope you all like it. It was one of Kishan’s favorite dishes. But, I kept it mild this time since some of you can’t handle your spices like Kishan could,” she said with a laugh. She’d still get sad just mentioning or thinking of him in passing, but she felt that she was past the crying now. Every now and then a tear might slip through, but she was sick of the tears.
Tagging: Tara Ahuja
Time & Location: March 18th, 2019 @ Kishan and Zara’s Apartment
Word Count: 730
Summary: Tara finishes going through Kishan’s things and finds something unexpected.
Side Notes: 3 of ~4 mini self paras
Tara sat on the floor of Kishan’s bedroom with filled up boxes surrounding her. She was exhausted and didn’t want to do anymore, but she had to. She had to finish everything and get out. She had to return to school before she fell too far behind in her studies. Surely, they’d understand her situation and give her extensions, but she didn’t want their sympathy and she didn’t want to be given all that extra time to do her work. She knew for a fact that instead of doing her work in that extra time, she’d be crying over her dead brother. She’d rather work under a tight deadline and finish it.
As Tara finished off sealing all the boxes, she did one last sweep of the room. She checked the dark corners of the closest, every drawer in the dresser and side table, and she looked over his desk. She started to move some boxes and then noticed something shining under the bed. She furrowed her eyebrows, getting down on her hands and knees to see what it was. Probably just an old piece of equipment, right?
Tara picked up a few scraps of balled up paper and a silver box with a latch on it. She sat down on the bed again to look at them more closely. She almost threw the paper away right off the bat, but instead decided to read them to see Kishan’s handwriting one more time. As she opened each balled up piece of paper, she realized they were all half written letters to different people in his circle of friends. There was one for Bailey, Maya, Sal, Javier, Riley....and of course, Wes. Some of them seemed to be finished, but obviously weren’t meant to be sent.
Tara read through each of the letters and did her best to smooth out all the wrinkles so that the paper lay as flat as possible. She moved onto the box that had a few smaller notebooks. There were notes, parts of letters, lists, and photographs tucked inside.
One was a Secret Santa gift idea list with several items crossed off. Another was a photograph of Kishan with Wes. There was a list of things to do before Kishan left for New York. He had a smaller list of things to leave behind for each member of his group of friends with only a couple things crossed off. Tara even found some journal entries from a half filled notebook.
The entries were sporadic, but it was enough for Tara to learn something new about her brother. She noticed entries about the Grid, dreams he had, the work he’d done for his degree. The last entry he had was about the Grid shutting down and how he needed to get in touch with Sebastian Reyes who could possibly help the group with their issues.
Tara shut the journals and put them back into the box and closed the lid. She sat there for a few more moments, thinking about what she’d found. It seemed wrong that she now had access to Kishan’s private thoughts and secrets, something she should and would have never have seen if Kishan were still here. She thought about the letters that were never meant to be sent. She glanced back at the papers that she’d unfolded and set down on the bed.
She picked one of them up again, skimming through them. He must have written several versions of the letters, each of them not ready to be sent. He must have thrown out the rest and some of them fell away under his bed. Tara let out a sigh as she wondered if she’d be crossing a line by finishing the letters and sending them. Of course, she could never truly finish them the way Kishan would have wanted, but she could fix them a little so they didn’t end so abruptly or mention how much they meant to him.
Tara moved to Kishan’s desk and reopened all the boxes, searching for the stationary Kishan was using along with a pen. She sat down at the desk once she’d found the supplies she needed. She knew her handwriting didn’t completely look like Kishan’s, but they were incredibly similar. Hopefully, his friends would understand that the letters were from him, even if they were rewritten and helped out a bit by Tara.
Sal shrugged a little, too. “Doesn’t matter what had happened, still shouldn’t have been a dick,” he stated. It was true - for all he could’ve guessed Tara might’ve been there to help share the good news that Kishan had some amazing life opportunity come up. Either way, acting rude and skeptical wasn’t the response to a clearly upset stranger. He couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do that again, but he still wanted to offer an apology to the girl. Unsure what to say next, he glanced back at some of the other people filtering out of the memorial before he turned back to Tara. “How much longer are you around?”
"Yeah, probably,” Tara said with a soft smile. “Maybe that’s one thing to learn from all of this,” she added. She stared at the ground for a minute as silence took over between them. She looked back up at Sal when he asked about how long she’d be around. “Only for a couple more days. I’m finishing going through his things and packing everything up. I have to clean out his room at Zara’s and then get his paperwork from the laboratories. Then I have to pick up whatever it was that they could salvage from the wreck,” she told him. “But then I’ll head back to New York and before going to San Francisco to figure out Kishan’s final resting place.”
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