The Unbearable Burdens of Being First
The eighth entry in my (personal) monthly fiction challenge
Unlike last month’s entry, I know exactly where this story came from. I stumbled across a post on r/midjourney over on Reddit, entitled The year is 2250 and 10% of humans now live on Mars- it was a cool enough gallery, but the 9th image, entitled ‘Homelessness’ really stuck in my brain a bit. Who was this guy? What was his story?
Everything that resulted was an attempt to answer both of those questions, so I’m very happy to present, The Unbearable Burdens of Being First.
~~~
Samantha had slept through her alarm, so now she was frantically trying to get out of the house. “I’m going to be late. I’m going to be late. I’m going to be late,” she said to herself as she dug through the pile of shoes near their front door and tried to find her other boot. Finding it, she slid it on and then took a deep breath. “All right. Got clothes, got my bag ready. I need… what do I need,” she stood up and glanced at herself in the mirror that hung by the front door. “Hair. Need to do my hair.”
Dashing back into the bathroom, she pulled the drawer open and grabbed her brush, and began to comb her hair into some semblance of order. “It’s going to be a headband and ponytail day, I think,” she said to herself. A few pulls of the brush and then back into the drawer for a hair tie and then a rummage through the dresser drawer for a headband and she was back at the mirror, adjusting into place, smoothing it out and- “Adequate,” she nodded to herself. “Now what? Oh yes, food.”
Thankfully, she had thought ahead the night before, the remnants of last night’s pad thai were already packed in a container for her. A glance at the chrono on the wall told her that she wasn’t going to have time to make a stop for coffee if she wanted to make her train, so that meant-
Her wrist comm chimed. It was Harish, her partner. “Sweetness, love, darling, I am running very, very late. What’s up?”
“Babe, you gotta turn on the news.”
“Sweetness, I’m going to be late- I need to get to the station if I’m going to-”
“Just turn on the news,” Harish insisted. With a hiss of irritation, Samantha ducked into the living room and turned on the vidscreen. “Harish, this better be good-” she stopped as the vidscreen lit up, not with the usual red logo of the Martian News Network, but a black one with the newsreader dressed in somber black. ‘BREAKING NEWS’ was running in the banner across the bottom of the screen.
“Good morning, this is Natalie Shibuya with the Martian News Network breaking in with a special report. We have sad news to report this morning. Vivek Miller-Krishnan, the first man to set foot on Mars, has died at his home in Acidalia Planitia. A family spokesman released a statement a short time ago saying that he went peacefully, surrounded by family, friends, and those who loved him the most. Miller-Krishnan-”
Samantha sank onto the sofa. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” Harish replied. “I can’t believe it. Happening more and more to the older folks though. Longevity doesn’t equal immortality.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Didn’t you say you met him once?”
Samantha snorted in amusement. “Sweetness, this is Mars. Everyone has claimed to meet the First Man at least once.” They were displaying his official picture now from back in his NASA days. “I met him twice, though,” she said. “Back when I was younger.”
~
“Samantha!” She turned away from the tower of blocks she was building and saw Mister Mark waving at her. “Time to go,” he called. “Your Mom’s here!”
“Mommy!” She shot to her feet and began to dash across the room to where her mother was waiting when Mister Mark held up a hand to stop her. “Samantha, did you put all your toys back?”
“Oh, right.” She turned back around and dashed back to the tower of blocks. She thought a moment and then positioned the box in just the right place next to the tower before quickly pushing it over. Most of the blocks made it into the box, but some didn’t- but they were easy enough to pick up. Once that was done, she picked up the box and walked it over to its cubby and then turned back around and ran over to her Mom.
“Mommy!” Her mom knelt down and spread her arms out in greeting and Samantha flung herself into her mother’s embrace with an excited squeal.
“Oh, I missed you, Sammy-bug.”
“I missed you too, Mommy,” she said. “Can we stop at the playground on the way home?”
Her mom put on a mock frown and made a show of turning her wrist to look at her chrono. “I don’t know… we may not have time today…”
“Please, Mommy…please, please, please!”
Her mom rolled her eyes but smiled down at her. “All right, since you asked so nicely, I guess we can!”
“Yay!” Samantha jumped up and down.
“But time’s a wasting, so get your stuff and let’s get going!”
“Okay, Mommy!” Samantha ran across the room to her cubby and put on her coat and grabbed her backpack and then, running back across to her Mom, slipped her hand into her, and with a wave goodbye to Mister Mark they headed out of the school and towards the playground.
Marineris Town was still a novelty for many of the old Mars veterans. An actual revolution twenty years ago that had won Mars its nominal independence from Terra had been followed up by a quieter revolution in building materials. Nano-carbon superstructures supported diamond-coated permeable transparent shielding that made domed cities suddenly easy to construct in a way they hadn’t been before.
Domed cities were springing up all over Mars now, but Marineris Town and, in fact, towns all along this stretch of the canyon, had it easy- since they were at the ‘narrow’ end, close to Noctis Labyrinthus, they just covered a good stretch of the canyon roof and sealed it at either end and now they had a good fifty-mile stretch of the canyon to develop. Rivers were being engineered, forests and parks, and- though perchlorate purging was expensive and complex- farms were springing up between the towns for many people, it felt like a preview of what it would be like when the terraforming was complete and they could walk on Mars and breathe the air.
Samantha loved it. She loved looking up at the sky, squinting to try and see the geometric patterns of the dome far above. She loved running and skipping, taking deep breaths and just moving. Grown-ups didn’t understand when they took them outside in suits. They didn’t know how bulky they were and how slow they felt.
“Look, Mommy! There’s the playground!”
“I see that!” Her mom smiled down at her.
“Can I-” She left the question hanging in the air and her mother smiled and nodded and Samantha raced off as fast as she could, feeling the wind in her face and convincing herself that she was the fastest girl on Mars just so she could get to her favorite place on the whole planet: the playground.
There was a tall multi-level tower at one end, a smaller tower in the middle, and the largest tower at the far end of it. You could run from one end to another, over the swinging bridge, to the middle tower, and then up to the climbing bars and you could go hand over hand to the tallest tower– but that wasn’t the coolest part. Underneath the platform with the climbing bars, if a kid was big enough and if a kid was big enough and brave enough, you could drop down onto a platform just below them. Being able to reach it was a right of passage. Being brave enough to jump down to the red sand below made you instantly cool. The tallest tower had a set of blocks of varying heights that made a path up to it as well as a twisty slide that Samantha was convinced was the fastest slide on Mars.
She streaked over to the tall multi-level tower, ducked under it, and began to shimmy her way up the rope ladder to the main level. Once on the landing, she ran over to the edge and saw that her Mom was talking to some other Moms on the far edge of the playground and-
“Samantha!” She whirled and saw her best friend, Fernanda come running across the swing bridge to her.
“Ferny!”
“You want to play tag? Hide and go seek?”
Samantha considered that. “Hide and go seek! Can I count first?”
“Sure!”
Samantha turned around and squeezed her eyes shut and began to count, when she reached ten, she opened them and the seeking began. Ferny was so good at hide-and-go-seek. One time it had taken Samantha nearly the whole time they were at the playground to find her, so she took her time. First, she glanced down the rope ladder and knelt down to carefully peer down to make sure Ferny hadn’t doubled back on her. Then, she scanned the playground, carefully looking at the merry-go-round and the other structures before shaking her head. Ferny was just too good.
“I know, the slide!” She turned and ran across the swing bridge and to the middle tower and up the stairs to the climbing bars that lead up to the tallest tower. She hesitated a moment. Ferny wasn’t tall enough to get to the secret platform yet– neither was she for that matter, though that didn’t stop her from trying from time to time when she knew that her Mom wasn’t looking, carefully, she stuck her head between the railings (there was plenty of room between them, so she wouldn’t get stuck) and glanced down at the secret platform. Empty.
“She has to be on the slide then!” She scampered up the climbing bars and out onto the platform of the tallest tower and ran across to the opening of the covered slide and called down, “Ferny! I’m coming to get you!” Then she scooted herself onto the slide, pushed off and around one curve, the second curve, the third curve, and then-
She slid out onto the red sand at the bottom of the slide and that’s when she saw him. He was lying on the bench in a space suit that looked as if it had seen better days. There were repair patches on the elbows and it was stained that familiar reddish-brown color common to people who worked outside the dome. There was a faded mission patch on the upper arm and his helmet and a duffel bag were on the ground next to the bench. His eyes were closed and, a thrill of fear shook Samantha. He wasn’t moving. She knew should have been scared and another part of her knew she should probably go tell her Mom, but she was curious. She walked up to him, slowly and gingerly.
“Are you dead?”
“Hmm?” The old man groaned.
“You’re not dead, Mister,” Samantha was torn between happiness and disappointment. She had never seen a dead person before.
“Not yet,” the old man groaned again. His eyes snapped open and he stared up at the sky. “Still here.”
“Where else would you be?”
“I don’t know. Back on Terra, maybe.” The old man pushed himself upright. “At least they don’t hate me on Terra. Not at the moment, anyway.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ewwww, why would you want to be back on Terra? Mars is the best.”
The old man smiled a weary smile at her. “I suppose it has its perks.”
“Are you lost?”
“Not really. Just lost my way and can’t get it back,” the old man said.
“Well, I hope you find your way!” Samantha said. “I’m going to go find my friend now!” And with that, she ran back to the climbing blocks and began climbing back up to the tallest tower.
Eventually, she did find Ferny and then it was her turn to hide. More kids arrived and soon the playground was alive with motion and shouts and laughter as kids ran and played. Soon, she and Ferny had been whirled into a game of Mars tag and she ran past the old man a few more times, sometimes waving, sometimes not. He hadn’t moved and just sat there, staring vacantly at the playground, looking exhausted. Samantha was too young to notice the sidelong glances he was getting from the various parents at the playground. She was too young to realize that the parents had all carefully positioned themselves to make sure that he remained in their line of sight at all times.
She was also too young and too caught up in her game of tag to notice the Marineris Garda arriving. She was running from Ferny- who was, unfortunately ‘it’ when she heard the angry, raspy shout.
“Get your hands off me!”
Everything sort of came to an awkward halt. Kids slowed down, and looked around, wondering what was going on. Samantha made her way to the top of the tallest tower- where the noise was coming from- and looked down.
“Citizen, can we assist you back to your residence?” There were two Garda, the younger one looked awkward and the older one looked on with pity at the old man.
“Hah, a residence!” He gestured wildly at the town around him. “This whole planet is my residence, don’t you know who I am?”
“Oh, we know,” One of the nearby parents contemptuously spat on the ground. “Butcher!”
“We remember Pavonis!” Another parent shouted.
The old man’s face, which had come alive for just a moment when he had been talking to the Garda collapsed back into the exhausted, vacant stare again. His shoulders slumped and he reached down and picked up his helmet and his bag. “All right,” he said, dully. “I’ll go.”
“You got food packs?” The older Garda asked him as they both fell in beside him as he slowly made his way off the playground. The old man nodded. “You need anything-”
“Samantha,” she jumped and looked down. It was her mom, standing at the bottom of the climbing blocks, a tense look on her face. “Time to go.”
“Really? Can I have five more minutes?”
“Not today, honey. Come on.”
“All right,” Samantha sighed. She turned to look for Ferny, who was in the middle tower. “Ferny, I’ve got to go!”
“Me too!”
“Okay, bye!”
“Bye!”
~
As they had walked home, hand in hand that day from the playground, Samantha had asked her mom about the old man and why people were so mad at him. Her mom had explained it the way parents do, that he had been a famous man, once, but when Mars had launched their big fight to be free of Terra once and for all, he had done something that people were mad at him for. Something bad. Something unforgivable.
Samantha would think of him from time to time, but as the years rolled by, life kept happening and eventually, she forgot all about that afternoon on the playground, until, one day-
The airlock door opened with a muffled thunk. “Now class,” Mrs. Tereshkova said. “Remember to check your suit diagnostics and your comm channels. Is everyone on channel three? Are your suits all showing green?” A sullen, half-mumbled chorus of ‘affirmatives’ echoed through the shared comm channel.
“Good, now, single file, let’s proceed out of the airlock and begin our soil sampling.”
They were topside on the rim of Marineris Canyon and Samantha sighed as she waited her turn to head outside and start soil sampling. She hated pedology, but given the terraforming effort that had been underway on Mars for decades now, it was not surprising that most, if not all secondary schools had it as a required science course. Soil was going to be the hardest thing to get right in the terraforming process and it was incredibly complicated– even more so when you consider the amount of perchlorate and salt filtration that had to be done.
Samantha had put it off as long as she could, but now, it was the only science class remaining between her and graduation and then, hopefully, if she was very lucky, acceptance to the University of Noachis. But for now, she carefully moved forward in her suit and stepped over the lip of the airlock and out onto the soil farm.
The soil farm, she had to admit, was pretty cool, actually. It was a joint venture between all the secondary schools in Marineris Town and Melas Chasma A&M. It was roughly ten acres, surrounded by a ring of research habs that were all dedicated to developing the best possible soil for Mars.
“All right, class,” Mrs. Tereshkova said. “Remember that we’re rotating assignments from where we were last time. That means that group one, you’re over in the northeast quadrant, two you get southeast, three gets southwest and four gets northwest. I’ll be checking in with you individually once every hour or so and will visit each quadrant to check in with your groups. Sound good?”
Another sullen, half-mumbled chorus of ‘affirmatives’ echoed through the shared comm channel.
“All right!” Mrs. Tereshkova said brightly. “Let’s get out there and do…some…science!” She flung her gloved and suited fists into the air in a sudden display of enthusiasm. When her efforts were met with silence and half-hearted replies of “Yeah! Science!” Samantha forced herself not to grin as she saw Mrs. Tereshkova’s slump in defeat and the class began to spread out and make their way to their assigned areas of the soil farm.
She was in group four and that meant they had to make their way out to the northwest quadrant of the farm. Samantha would never admit it out loud, but she was kind of excited about this quadrant. It was just over a low hill and tucked away, almost out of sight of the research habs, but it was also the most experimental of all the quadrants of the soil farm. There was a significant scientific debate about the necessity of perchlorate purges from the Martian ecosystem and a group of scientists were eager to try anything to prove that it wasn’t needed and that food could grow in the native soil as it currently lay on the ground.
The crazy part of it was this: they weren’t entirely wrong and were starting to see some mild success in their quadrant. If these pedologists stood for anything it was for the Minimalist School of terraforming so that a truly Martian ecosystem would develop.
Due to their somewhat radical approach and because they weren’t interested in perchlorate and salt filtration, they had been given the northwest quadrant, as far away from the others as possible to allow for minimal cross-contamination. Samantha started down the central path between the southern quadrants, noting that her fellow group members Keevan, John, and Maria were sticking to the perimeter paths to get to their destination. She rolled her eyes. She’d seen other people play that game, of course. It took longer to get to the northwest quadrant that way and you got less time to get really good samples when you were out there, but it did kill a lot of time- which was probably what her classmates had in mind.
A brisk five-minute walk and she had reached the northern perimeter path, closest to her destination. Then it was another five minutes to get to the stairs. They weren’t steep stairs, mind you- because the ‘hill’ that separated the northwest quadrant from the rest of the soil research facility would be more accurately described as a ‘small rise’ but there was a nice, easy staircase, never the less. Had she been under the town dome, she would have skipped up the steps easily, but topside? In a cumbersome space suit? She took her time, going carefully to make sure she didn’t stumble.
At the top of the stairs, she paused and looked out at the northwest quadrant. It was still pretty sparse and didn’t look much different from the rest of Mars. Unlike the other quadrants, which had grass, flowers, and even small bonsai trees, this quadrant boasted a desultory few rows of sad-looking plants that looked like tomatoes and maybe- she squinted- what that a bonsai tree? It would be a new addition if it was, but mainly there were signs of moss on various rock faces and little experiment flags dotted all over the quadrant. As she had with the prior rotations, Samantha decided she would start at the point furthest away and then work her way back.
“Maybe out at the Bonsai tree?” She said to herself. “I think that’s a good plan.”
“Sam, everything okay?” It was Keevan on the common channel.
“Oh, everything’s fine,” Samantha replied. “Looks like they put in a bonsai tree up here on the far edge, so I’m going to go and check that out first.”
“Sounds good,” Maria replied. “We’ll be there soon.”
With another roll of her eyes, knowing that it would be at least ten minutes before she saw any of them, Samantha walked down to the edge of the quadrant and began walking the perimeter path over toward the bonsai tree. As she got closer, she frowned. There was… is that a tent? And a person? Who is that? She almost opened the channel to ask Mrs. Tereshkova, but she decided not to. It was probably one of the researchers. They tended to steer clear when students were crawling all over their soil farm, but not always.
As she drew closer, her frown deepened. It was an old tent– not just any old tent, but an old hab tent, the kind she saw on vids and holo presentations from history class. There were some scattered oxygen cans next to it, what looked like a water diffuser, and a box of ration paks that looked like it had been tipped over and scattered heedlessly all over the ground by the bonsai tree.
Sitting on what looked to be an old pull-behind rover- the kind the hardcore Marstrekkers had used in the early days to get out of the old mining colonies and strike out on their own into the outback- was an old man. He was staring vacantly at the ground, his goatee grey with age, exhaustion etched onto his face. He glanced up at her approach and smiled weakly at her and said something that she couldn’t hear.
Samantha tapped her wrist in the universal Martian signal for ‘What comm channel are you on?’ and the old man held up a single digit. Samantha frowned. Channel 1? No one used channel 1 these days- it was a historical artifact, a reminder of the first astronauts to land on the Red Planet and the first settlers that came after them. There was nothing illegal about using the channel, it’s just that… people didn’t. Not unless you were one of the weird historical cosplayers or maybe a few of the old ones.
She switched to channel 1. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m still here, I know. I’ll move along,” the old man said.
The memory came back to her with a jolt. Sliding down the slide at the playground and seeing him there, asleep on the bench. Wondering if he was dead. It couldn’t possibly be the same man, but with medicine these days, Samantha knew it could be. He hadn’t died. She had learned who he was in school, of course.
“I’m not here to move you along, sir,” Samantha said. “I’m one of the students from Marineris Prep. We’re here to do soil sampling.”
“Sir?” The old man chuckled. “Been a long time since anyone called me sir.”
“I met you once, you know.” Samantha blurted out. “I was a little kid and we went to this playground after school and you were sleeping on a bench and-”
“You thought I was dead,” he chuckled again. “Been kicked out of a lot of places since then, but you were the only person to ask me if I was dead.” He glanced up and saw her look of stunned amazement and smiled. “Some people look out for me still, you know. Quietly, where the government,” his lips twisted in contempt around the word, “won’t notice. I got the memory boosters that came out last year, same as all the other old ones.”
“You still trying to find your way back to Terra?”
He said nothing for a long moment before he finally shook his head. “No, not anymore. I’m lost on Mars, I’ll just have to try and find my way again on Mars.” He nodded towards the tree. “I just come up here up and sit a few days next to my tree now and again.”
“Your tree?”
“Yep,” the old man replied. “One of the scientists in one of those habs,” he waved vaguely over to the cluster of research habs, “owed me a favor. I was hoping for a fig tree, but this will do.”
“A fig tree?”
“Specifically, a ficus religiosa. The same kind of tree Siddhartha Gautama sat under to attain enlightenment.”
“You looking for enlightenment?” Samantha tried to keep her tone light, but the old man’s face remained serious as he looked up at her. “I’m just trying to find my way.”
“Same difference,” Samantha replied with a shrug.
“I hope you’re right.” The old man glanced behind her. “We’ve got company.”
Samantha turned around and saw the familiar figure of Keevan give her a wave. She waved back before turning back to the old man. “Finally!”
“Friends of yours?”
“The rest of my study group. I should probably…”
“Well, if you’re not the local Garda come to move me along, I’ll keep sitting here, next to my bonsai tree.”
Samantha hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
The old man shrugged. “Sure.”
“What… really happened, on Pavonis?”
The old man’s shoulders slumped and the weariness etched into his face suddenly ran gouged deeper into his lines and wrinkles. Like the old Martian canals, suddenly thrown into sharp relief. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I made a choice,” the old man said. “I was caught on Pavonis when the balloon went up and the rebels took the high ground along the lip of the crater and moved in with that stealth tech of theirs that blinded the Terran orbital platforms. They were fixing to lob missiles down on the city to take out the spaceport so…” he shrugged. He looked up at her face. “There were twenty thousand civilians in the city. Plus who knows how many more refugees. The stealth tech may have blinded the orbital platforms, but I knew exactly where they were.”
“So you made a choice,” Samantha finished.
“Yes,” the old man replied. “Twenty thousand civilians got to live. The Revolution got its first martyrs and,” he smiled bitterly, “I got the blame.”
Silence lay between them for a moment, before Samantha blurted out, “That’s not right.”
The old man shrugged. “It is what it is. I’ve got friends, here and there. I miss meals now and again. I’ve been kicked out of just about everywhere on this planet, but I still have friends here and there. They do me favors. Resupply me. Keep me going.”
“It’s still not right,” Samantha insisted. “Who are they to judge you for what you did? The Revolution was so… complicated. A lot of people did a lot of bad things.”
“Ah, youth,” the old man sighed. “I’m a convenient scapegoat for them. The most famous face on Mars. The turncoat. The traitor. The reasons why I did are irrelevant, but when you get as old as I am, you’ll understand that governments come, times change and sometimes, you get lost.” He leaned sideways and smiled. “You should probably go. Your classmates appear to be gesticulating somewhat wildly.”
Samantha turned and rolled her eyes but gave them what she hoped was a reassuring wave, before turning back to the old man with a sigh. “You’re probably right.” She turned to go and was a couple of steps away and about to switch her comm channel back to channel three, when she turned back to the old man. “I hope you find your way.”
“You and me both, kid.”
~
Samantha didn’t bother going to work, as her train was long since departed. The news was spreading quickly now– she saw it as she walked down to the station, black bunting being hung in windows, black armbands appearing on the arms of the local Garda. The flag over the town hall was at half-mast. A hush seemed to have fallen over the land, so she sent a message to Harish and joined a growing river of humanity, piling onto the maglev heading to Acidalia Planitia.
Harish reached her about two hours later when they were already well north of Melas Chasma. “Hey, babe. You make it to work okay?”
“Janice shut us down for the day. Everything is shutting down. It’s kind of insane,” she replied.
“So are you still at home?”
“No, I’m heading to Acidalia Planitia.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the comm. “He really made an impression on you, huh?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, I’d offer to come join you, but Padraig called off again, so I’m stuck working a double.”
Samantha made a face. “You good for food? I can drop off some dinner on my way back if it’s not too late.”
“I’ll be okay, babe,” Harish replied. “It’ll be a long day, but I don’t think we’re going to be busy. Everyone is glued to the news coverage now.”
“Here too,” Samantha said, glancing around the carriage.
“I love you, babe,” Harish replied. “Snap an image or two for me, will you?”
“Of course, sweetness,” Samantha smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Stories were being told, all around her. Stories of the first landings, the first colonists, how wild and free it all used to be. How hard it had been. Some were weeping, comforting one another. The death of the first man, who laid down the unbearable burdens of being first, seemed to have broken open something on Mars. A catharsis appeared to be underway.
As they sped across the Martian landscape, it seemed the news was racing with them. In every town and settlement they stopped at, she saw more mourning bands on the arms of local Garda, more flags at half-mast. More people hugging each other, speaking in hushed tones to one another, swapping stories of the living legend, the one who had been here before everyone else, the First Man on Mars.
Not wanting to talk to anyone, Samantha buried herself in the net, curious to see how the vagabond old man she had last seen on the soil farm had embedded himself so deeply into the hearts and minds of seemingly everyone on Mars.
He had been right, all those years ago. Governments had come and gone. Times had changed. The fever dream of the Revolution that had won them independence from Terra had collapsed into a second, more lasting movement that created the People’s Cooperative of Mars. She watched his testimony before the Truth and Reconciliation Tribunal after the revolutionary government was overthrown.
He helped write the new Constitution.
He practiced law for the longest time. Fighting for justice, especially for the unhoused.
He had taught for years at the University of Tempe Terra.
He found love.
He made a family; children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
Eventually, he moved back to Acidalia, where they had first landed, and became a docent at the Landing Museum, like one of the exhibits had sprung to life to give tours.
Acidalia was an ocean of humanity, everyone was pouring into the city from every direction. The station was heaving with people, the streets weren’t much better. They headed towards Landing Park, waiting patiently in line, with so many others, to buy flowers to lay at the foot of the memorial. It was ringed with people and every few seconds, someone would step forward and go to the base of the memorial. Some left flowers. Some left Mars rocks. Some left light sticks. Some just touched the memorial and bowed their heads for a moment. Samantha waited patiently until, finally, she walked out towards the memorial, the simple flower- a carnation, she thought, held in her hand.
She knelt down, placed it at the foot of the memorial, and smiled. There was only one thing that seemed right to say.
“I’m glad you found your way.”