Good Day | Dick Grayson

12. Losing a Good Man

Things got better and worse along the season. Then, came today.

When my phone rang, I almost didn't even bother picking it up. Then, I saw the name on the screen.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my glasses up to the crown of my head and wiped my face. Then, I let my thumb brushed the green button, putting the phone to my ear.

"Hi, Rachel," I greeted, forcing a smile.

God, how should I bring it up?

"Roman, are you at home?" Rachel asked to the point.

"Unfortunately, not, Rachel," I answered. "What happen?"

"Nothing," Rachel sighed. "I'm just bored."

Uhm...

"Rachel, is your father around?" I asked as I looked down, kicking the dirt ground.

"Yeah, let me put you on speaker," Rachel said.

"No, sweetie, but, could you please hand over the phone to him?" I rambled, hopefully I didn't sound so sad because I tasted sorrow in my tongue.

"Uh, okay," Rachel decided.

I heard rustles came before Dick's voice came audible.

"Rome, how's it going?" Dick asked in a friendly way.

"Mr. Jackson passed away," I said.

"Oh," Dick hummed.

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"Text me an address, okay?" Dick said.

"I won't have to. It's the nursing home," I told him.

"Okay," Dick affirmed.

Here, none of us were doing anything. Most of the caregivers and volunteers were busy comforting one senior to another. Some others were helping Mr. Jackson's family with the people coming. Some others were just trying to do something that required moving around, like I did.

Wrapping my head around the idea of losing such a good man felt heavy.

Soon enough, the ceremony started. By this time, I had myself seated on the last row of chairs alongside my coworkers. Mr. Jackson's daughter gave a very heartbreaking eulogy. His close friend delivered a more heartbreaking one.

After the ceremony ended, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Everyone slowly moving out of their sests. Everyone slowly walking towards the coffin to give Mr. Jackson a proper goodbye. Someone touching my shoulders. Me, turning around and saw Rachel being held up by her father, dressed in black. Me, letting the two hug me briefly.

Rachel didn't cry. At least not until she saw the open coffin. It was so heartbreaking to see her cry.

Going back home, I said yes when Dick offered me a ride. Now, here I sat. In the front passenger seat of Dick's car with Rachel asleep on my lap like a koala. My hand stroked her hair, gently brushing it.

She looked so cute. I had to say it.

Then, we finally stopped in front of my place.

"Rachel, wake up, sweetheart. Rome's going home," Dick softly nudged his daughter.

It took several attempt of Dick and I to nudge and pat Rachel before she finally opened her eyes.

"Alright, come here, Rachel, so Romania can get out of the car," Dick said.

"What? No," Rachel whined, dropping her body on me again. "Don't leave."

I was too surprised to say anything. All I did was turn my head to the driver and found him looking as surprised as I was.