“If you really want her to, yes, she can,” Patrick said carefully. “But remember: Mommy’s soul can also go into another body. Once it’s inside someone else, the things that made us love Mommy, the magic that was inside her soul, will be alive again.”

“So ... so someone else is waiting to love Mommy?”

“Exactly, son.” Damn, Patrick thought, thank God his son was smart and open-minded enough to think on his own—he was making this whole ordeal much easier.

“But I still don’t want Mommy to go.”

“You know that Mommy will never be far away from us—we just have to think about her, and her soul will return,” Patrick said. “Sometimes when you’re sleeping, Mommy will visit you in your dreams—other times, you’ll be doing something else, or maybe be having a problem, and then poof! All of a sudden, Mommy will be there. But we can share the magic in Mommy’s soul with the rest of the world. That way, maybe other little boys and girls can enjoy some of Mommy’s soul too and love her just like we do.”

“But how do we do that, if she’s ... dead?”

“We have to tell her that it’s okay to go on her journey to find those other people that need her,” Patrick said. “Remember, her soul will never die—but we have to say goodbye. So what do you say? Is it okay?”

“I... I guess so.” He looked fearfully at the urn. “What do we do?”

Patrick nodded to David Luger, and he cut the engine. Patrick led his son back to the built-in swim platform on the stem, and they knelt at the very edge. He unscrewed the cap on the um. Bradley at first couldn’t look, but eventually his curiosity took over. He peered into the um, and his eyes grew wide with fear. The tears started to flow again, and his lower lip quivered.

“Bradley, listen to me,” Patrick said, holding his son tightly. “This is a pretty grown-up thing we have to do. Most little boys can’t do it. I’m a grown man, and it’s hard for me to do.” Bradley looked at his father, now curious to see what his father looked like when he was afraid—and he was comforted to see that he looked pretty much the same, just very sad. “You have to help me do this, son. I can’t do it by myself. You have to say it’s okay first, and you have to help me. Please.”

To Patrick’s amazement, Bradley took the urn in his hands. He looked as if he was going to simply pour the contents into the water—but instead, he stopped, then turned toward David Luger. “Uncle David?”

“Yeah, Brad?”

“Go fast,” he said. “Go real fast.” He turned to his father. “Mommy liked going fast, didn’t she? She liked flying.”