Christopher Corn's Arc

Chapter 11 of 12

Christopher ties off the last cable and stands. A low rumble rolls across the field. He looks toward the gate. A new stone has pushed up from the dirt overnight. It is tall and rough, painted with bold yellow letters wrapped in flame and flowers. Tragically Hip. Christopher's knees give out. He drops to the ground. He knew this day was coming. He had hoped it would come later. Much later. He presses his palms into the dirt and stares at the stone. Gord deserved more time. More songs. More road. A shadow falls across the grass. A man stands at the gate in a brown leather hat with a bright feather tucked in the band. He doesn't speak right away. He just looks at Christopher on his knees. Then he says, "Get up. Dirt isn't a place for grieving." His voice is flat and heavy. "It's a place for building." Christopher wipes his face and stands. Gourd walks past him toward the half-wired towers without waiting. Christopher follows. The grief stays. But the band just grew by one, and the signal to Earth just got louder.