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We spent the morning playing Kick the Can and some games we'd given up a long time ago, and we hiked out along some old rusty and abandoned railroad tracks and walked in a small woods outside town and photographed some birds and went swimming raw, and all the time I kept thinking this is the last day. We did everything we had ever done before on Saturday. All the silly crazy things, and nobody knew I was going away except Ralph, and five o'clock kept getting nearer and nearer.
At four, I said good-bye to the kids. "Leaving so soon, Chris? What about tonight?" "Call for me at eight" I said. "We'll go see the new Sally Gibberts picturel". "Swell". "Cut gravity!" And Ralph and I went home.
Mother wasn't there, but she had left part of herself, her smile and her voice and her words on a spool of audio-film on my bed. I inserted it in the viewer and threw the picture on the wall. Soft yellow hair, her white face and her quiet words: "I hate good-byes, Chris. I've gone to the laboratory to do some extra work. Good luck. All of my love. When I see you again you'll be a man". That was all.
Priory waited outside while I saw it over four times. "I hate good-byes, Chris. I've gone ...Work ... Luck. All ... My love ... ". I had made a film-spool myself the night before.
I spotted it in the viewer and left it there. It only said good-bye