“My father is dead, Walter. I’m pretty sure you knew that,” Seven said.
“I know, Seven. It’s about your father’s remains. I have his ashes, would you like to come and retrieve them? Or I suppose I could send them to you. I have them here at the hospital. What would you like me to do with them?” Walter asked.
“I’ll drive over this afternoon and pick them up, if that’s okay?” Seven said.
“That would be fine,” Walter replied.
Seven disconnected his phone and looked over at his grandmother. “Gran, how ’bout a day trip?” he announced.
The afternoon was filled with a long comfortable drive from the Georgia farmhouse to the state of Florida’s hospital for the criminally insane. Although the Colonel had been gone for quite some time, Seven and Gran hadn’t found much time alone together. He assumed the time in the truck would be uncomfortable with awkward conversations between him and Gran. It was not. The journey started with tales and stories of their favorite human being and the legend that was the Colonel. Slowly Gran steered the conversation to Tiffany and her grandson’s future plans. Seven took as much pleasure as Gran did in mapping out his future with Tiffany. They both smiled and felt a glow in their hearts as they spoke of expanding their immediate family.
By midafternoon they were at the hospital. Gran was more than out of her element. The words “mental hospital” sent all kinds of images and details racing through her head that had the tightly affixed hair bun attached to it. The reality of the administration portion of the building was a comfort and the old woman’s nerves began to settle. The three of them retired to Walter’s office. Seven and Walter made small talk as everyone in the room was trying to avoid the cardboard box/elephant in the room.