I like a man who grins when he fights.
- Winston Churchill
If I can't laugh in heaven, I don't want to go there.
- Martin Luther
The little girl with the bronze curls danced her way across the width of the living room, scaled the back of the tall couch and wormed her way in between her Aunt and Uncle. The beautiful blonde woman kissed the child's cheek gently and the child giggled, resting her head on the woman's delicate shoulders.
A heavy hand stroked the girl's curly hair. "I don't care what they think," the large man stage-whispered. "You got those dimples from me."
The child giggled again and retreated into the safe harbor of her Aunt's arms, forgetting for a moment why she intruded on the couple's private moment. Young though she was, she knew it wise to cherish every laugh, every smile, every kiss while there was still time. She knew all too well that moments like these were numbered.
"You can try, kid," the man laughed wickedly, "but nobody ever gets away from... Uncle Emmett!" The thick bands of steel comprising his arms seized the child and held her against the brick wall of his chest as the girl shrieked peels of silvery laughter.
The woman stifled a laugh of her own. "Careful, Em," she warned with mocked admonition. "I hear this one hangs out with werewolves."
"Uh-oh," the man laughed, dropping the girl to his lap and tossing his hands up in mock surrender. "Nobody said anything about dogs," he said. "Please don't sic your dogs on me, Miss. I'm a little afraid of 'em, if you want the truth."
Now there was a word that meant something. The girl's smile faded, her hand reaching up for the man's cheek. Despite the speed at which she was growing, her doll's hands were still dwarfed by the sheer scale of him. The woman rested a gentle hand on the child's knee.
Pictures of their entire family -- mother, father, aunts, uncles, friends -- clouded his vision. There was a haste to the images as the girl hurried to express her feelings in the only way she really knew, uncertainty and fear invading every corner.
Are you scared?
"Oh, honey," he whispered softly. He looked to his wife, who returned his look with one of her own. "She's scared, Rose." The woman looked at the child as if she'd cry given the chance, and the child repeated her silent question.
"No, we're not scared," he said, and the child couldn't understand.
Why not?
He smiled, pulling the two as close to him as was possible. "Rose?"
The woman kissed him lightly on the cheek and looked at the child in his arms. "You know," she smiled, "I think I'd rather hear what you have to say."
The man laughed again, lightly this time, and settled into a brief silence. The child and woman waited patiently. He looked down at the girl's large brown eyes trained on his own.
"Do you remember how old I am?"
The girl nodded.
"If I was still human, I'd already be dead. God didn't make us to live forever."
But we're not human, the small girl reminded him.
"You're right," he smiled. "Maybe he has something special planned for us, and that's why he gave us so much extra time."
I don't understand.
The man chuckled. "It's no secret I don't do any party tricks," he sighed. "Sure, I'm pretty strong, but... well, the only thing I really know how to do is throw things really far and show my wife and family how much I love them. It may not be much, and it's definitely not anywhere near as special as being able to read minds or see the future, but if you ask me, being able to love is one of the greatest gifts in the world. Even better than being the strongest or the fastest."
A small hand alighted on his cheek again but this time he saw only himself, strong and loving, a boon of unbridled enthusiasm in the face of forever.
You are special, Uncle Emmett.
"Thanks, kid," he smiled. A small silence settled over the three as the child squirmed, her anxiety unabated. Words and pictures were unnecessary.
"Of course we never want to see anything happen to our family," he said, his voice light and assuring, melodic despite his brutish appearance. "But Aunt Rose and I have made our peace with eternity."
The blonde woman spoke. "That's the thing that binds us together: our passion for each other and our love for our family. And we know that no matter what happens, we'll fight up until the absolute end. That's why we're not afraid."
The little girl with the bronze curls, wise years beyond her appearance, sighed and laid her head back against her Aunt's shoulder. She looked up at the two, choosing her words over her pictures.
"Maybe somebody should tell that to Mama and Daddy."
