grass until both were wheezing. Baako from laughter. Kowalski because he was out of breath.
Kowalski ended up on his butt and smiled at Maria. “Our boy’s sure gotten big.”
Over the next half hour, their greeting went from energetic cheerfulness to a quieter time of reflection and reunion. They signed silently to one another, huddled close together. Baako shared stories of the jungle, of other gorillas. Eventually they settled to simple touches and murmurs of affection.
To the west, the sun had sunk below the horizon, leaving only a rosy glow. Campfires were lit near the tents behind them. A swash of starlight crowned the skies overhead.
Kowalski knew there was no better time. He had his whole family gathered here. He reached into his pocket and removed a ring box. It wasn’t the same one he had first carried here half a year ago. He had lost that one and spent a good chunk of his savings to replace it.
Just as well.
He knew he wasn’t that same man from six months ago. He stared over at Maria, who hadn’t noticed what was in his hand. She remained focused on Baako, her smile wistful and happy. She was also not the same woman. Their relationship felt brand-new, forged stronger in those hellish fires.
He swallowed and lifted the box.
She finally turned; so did Baako.
He used a thumb to flip open the box. “Maria Crandall, would you do me the ho—?”
She tackled him, hitting him harder than Baako. The gorilla joined them, likely thinking it was another game. Luckily, he snapped the ring box closed before getting knocked on his backside. Maria ended up sprawled on top of him.
“I take it that means yes?” he asked with a wince.
“You are such an ass.” She leaned down. “But my ass forever.”
Holding his face in her hands, she kissed him.
After a time of whispered plans, of smiles and laughter, and quiet moments of shared tenderness, all three of them lay on their backs in the grass. With the daylight waning, they stared as the stars peeked out and listened as the jungle settled into evening birdsong and the distant cries of nocturnal hunters.
Maria finally rolled on her side, kissed his cheek, and pointed to their tent cabin. “I’m going to grab us a couple of beers.”
He leaned his head back with a happy sigh. “I knew you’d make a good wife.”
She punched him and left.
Baako took advantage of some private father-son time. He sat closer, looming over Kowalski. Baako sniffed at him, picked at his clothes as if searching for something. He had done this periodically during their reunion.
Still on his back, Kowalski signed to him.
[What are you doing?]
Baako sat back, then tapped the middle finger of his left hand on Kowalski’s belly, the right middle finger on his own hairy brow.
[You sick]
Kowalski sat up and pulled the gorilla’s hand down. He glanced back to the cabin, but Maria was still inside. He had only gotten the final medical report last week. Painter knew but respected his privacy, allowing Kowalski time to fully digest it.
It seemed he had not entirely escaped Tartarus unscathed. While the Promethean Blood had protected him from the worst of the radiation, it couldn’t stop everything. The medical report had a lot of jargon and numbers, but it all boiled down to three lines.
MULTIPLE MYELOMA.
STAGE 3.
LIFE EXPECTANCY: TWO YEARS.
But one oncologist had cautioned about that prognosis.
If you’re lucky.
Kowalski noted the concerned crinkle around Baako’s eyes. That worried look was why he hadn’t told Maria yet. He would, but not now. Not when she was so happy, when everything was going so well between them. Maybe such silence was foolish, even selfish, but he needed time to process everything first.
Kowalski signed to Baako, knowing the gorilla would believe him, knowing it was easier to lie in sign language.
[Papa is fine]
Baako stared at him, then hugged him hard. Kowalski patted him and rubbed his back in reassurance. When the gorilla finally let Kowalski go, Baako looked relieved, much happier again.
Good.
Kowalski turned to the cabin and saw Maria pop out, carrying two bottles of beer. He waved an arm.
Baako trotted to greet her, as if she had been gone for days.
Or maybe it was something else.
Maria struggled to keep a bottle of beer from Baako.
“You’re too young,” she scolded. “Maybe when you’re twenty-one.”
Kowalski smiled.
She joined him with an exasperated happy huff. Framed in starlight, she stared down at him. “What’s that grin all about?’
He smiled wider. “Because I’m the luckiest man alive.”
And I intend to stay