The Last Will and Testament of the Youngest Son

THE YOUNGEST SONS LEGACY

Sarah couldnt take her eyes off the Operating Theatre sign above the double doors. She’d been sitting there for hoursher heart racing, vision blurring, nerves shot from the waiting. Her hands were busy fiddling with her youngest sons favourite toy: a bright red plastic tractor with a scoop, a little battered from all the love. Timmy had originally wanted a blue tractor like the one in his favourite cartoon, but over time hed fallen completely in love with this one, a gift from his dad.

Finally, a figure appeared on the other side of the frosted glass. The doors swung open and out stepped a weary-looking doctor. Sarah jumped to her feet and ran over.

Doctor, please, how did it go? Hows Timmy?

The doctor lowered his head, pulling down his mask. Mrs. Harris, Im so sorry. We did everything we possibly could

***

Sarah laid curled up on Timmys little bed, hugging his pillow, which still smelled faintly like him. On the mirror opposite, she could see the mark of his sticky handleft behind during a biscuit snack. She was so glad she hadnt wiped it off; hed never smudge it again, never nestle his sleepy head into his pillow.

Another salty tear slid down her wind-chapped cheek. The grief had hollowed her out. Her heart, strong and healthy, had burned with pain. Not like Timmys. Hed been her late, unexpected joy, turning into heartbreak she could never have imagined. Her eldest, Ben, was healthyeighteen now and at university. But Timmy oh, Timmy. All through her pregnancy shed received good news from every test, yet only hours before his birth had the doctors discovered the complex heart condition. Theyd tried correcting it, but something had gone wrong. Now Timmy was gone

***

Sarah drifted into an uneasy sleep, as she had most nights lately. Once again, she found herself on a sun-dappled field, surrounded by wildflowers of every colour and scent. In the distance, there was Timmy, wearing his favourite shirt covered in little cars, beaming his signature smile. He clutched a huge bunch of daisies.

Timmy! Darling! Sarah called out, but Timmy didnt seem to hearhe plucked daisy petals, absorbed in his own world.

Sarah started running through the field, arms wide, desperate to scoop him up. But no matter how far she ran, she couldnt get any closer. In fact, the further she ran, the further Timmy seemed to drift away. She screamed and reached for him, sobbing in frustration, but he just smiled and faded into the air. The only thing left was a swirl of daisy petals gently settling on the grass.

When Sarah reached the spot where the petals lay, she looked down and noticed that, more than just petals, theyd arranged themselves into neat, clear letters on the grass, spelling out an address.

***

Sarah was jolted awake by her phone ringing. Bens name flashed on the screen.

Hi, love, she croaked.

Mum, Im coming home latercould you make something for dinner?

Sarah managed a strained smile. Enough, she thought. It had been nearly three months since Timmy died, but she still had her eldest son. Time to try to put herself together, for Bens sake.

Of course, darling. What would you like? Pancakes?

Thatd be great, Mum! Im already on the trainsee you soon!

Ben came home every weekend to help distract his parents from their sadness. He understood all too wellhis own heart ached just thinking about his brother. But life marched on, and they needed to carry on, together.

Sarah forced herself out of bed and wandered to the kitchen. She checked the fridge and, of course, there was no milk. Her husband, David, was hunched over his laptop, soldering something on a circuit board. He looked up when she entered.

Need anything from the shops? he asked.

Bens on his way home, Sarah replied, trying to sound normal. Hes wanting pancakes but weve run out of milk. Ill pop outcould do with the walk.

David raised his eyebrows in surprise but smiled. Youre getting back to yourself, he thought.

Sarah wrapped her coat around her, stepped into her shoes and left the house. A cool, gentle spring breeze blew against her face. Birds chattered, and fresh green buds dotted the branchesa promise of new leaves to come. The world was waking up again. Sarah sighed to herself. Timmy never got to see his fifth spring

She shook her head, pushed away the dark thoughts and strode off towards the shop.

***

At the shop, Sarah grabbed a pint of milk, Bens favourite chocolate bar, a loaf of bread and a chicken for dinner. Suddenly, from the next aisle, she heard a burst of laughter that made her heart stopit sounded just like Timmy. On a wild impulse, she darted towards the sound. All she saw was a small childs figure vanishing around the end of the aisle.

Sarah knew it was impossible, but she followed anyway, accidentally knocking down a cardboard sign advertising a special. As she leaned down to pick up the sign, she froze in shock. Written in bold red letters against the white background was the address from her dream.

Timmy, what are you trying to tell me? she whispered.

She went home, her mind whirling. This couldnt be a coincidence. Timmy was trying to send her a message, but what? She should Google the address. But not just yet. Tonight Ben was coming, and she needed to welcome him properly.

***

That evening was surprisingly warm and comforting. Sarah managed a genuine smile as Ben regaled her and David with university stories, tucking into seconds of pancakes. Sarah and David watched their eldest, bursting with pride and bittersweet love. Now, he was their only child, and all the more precious for it.

After dinner, everyone turned in for the night. Sarah, drained after the emotional day, fell asleep almost instantly. She woke in the middle of the night, heart pounding, convinced she could hear someone singing softly in the bathroom. It was his songthe one from the cartoon about the blue tractorTimmys little voice.

Trying not to shake, Sarah crept out of bed and slowly approached the bathroom, careful not to make a sound. She gently pushed the door open, but, naturally, the room was empty. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

What did I expect? she scolded herself. That Timmy would just be waiting for me in the bathroom? Hes gone! Im torturing myself.

She washed her face at the sink, trying to pull herself together. She looked up at her reflection and saw nothing but a pale, tired face with deep circles under her eyes.

On a sudden, mad impulse, she lathered soap in her hand and wiped it across the mirror, not really sure why. The soapy streaks ran down and, unbelievably, formed the familiar letters of that same address. A chill ran through her body. Just then, a faint childs whisper seemed to say: Im waiting for you, Mum

***

Cant sleep? David mumbled, stirred by the glow of Sarahs laptop.

Sarah stared at the screen, laptop perched on her knees. David, come here If you feel what I feel right now, then all thats been happening to me these last few days isnt just in my head

David groaned, stood and walked to her side. His heart thudded as he glimpsed a photograph on the screena little boy, not much older than four.

Elliot Green, aged four, the screen read. His parents had died in a car crash three years ago and hed been raised by his gran. After she passed away, hed gone into care six months ago.

I keep seeing that address everywhere, Sarah explained, and every sign points to this boy. Timmys somehow guiding me

She told David about the strange dream, what had happened in the shop and bathroom. David listened, then said quietly, but with certainty: Sarah, lets go.

***

Mrs. Thompson, the manager of the childrens home, led Sarah and David down a bright, tidy corridor, chatting non-stop.

When Elliot came here, we thought hed be adopted quicklylovely lad, clever and from a good family. But every time prospective parents came, he froze up and wouldnt speak to them. I wont force a child somewhere he doesnt want to go. All he ever says is that his mum and dad will come and that hell recognise them. And, you know, these last three months he keeps talking about his imaginary friendcalls him Timmy. This Timmy has supposedly just told him his mum and dad are coming soon.

Sarah and David glanced at each othercould their son really be trying to help this little boy?

Well, lets see, Mrs. Thompson said, opening the door to the playroom. Maybe youll melt his heart.

Sarah knew immediately which child was Elliot. Frail, little for his age, he sat cross-legged, building a tower of blocks, singing Timmys favourite tune. When he turned and saw Sarah and David, he jumped up and ran straight to them.

Mummy! Daddy! I knew youd come!

***

All the paperwork for the adoption was fast-trackedMrs. Thompsons doing. She was thrilled that Elliot finally opened up to Sarah and David, and the story of Timmys passing touched her deeply. Within a month, Sarah, David and Ben returned to take Elliot home, this time for good.

Just before leaving, Elliot slipped his hand from Sarahs and said, Wait, Mum! He turned and looked down the corridor. Timmys therehe wants to say goodbye!

Sarahs heart twisted in her chest, but now it was a gentle, healing ache. She knew shed never stop loving Timmy, never forget himbut now she had a new little soul who needed her strength. Elliot dashed to the window at the corridors end, paused silently, then ran back to his new family. And as they left, a beautiful white dove soared past the window, wheeling overhead, circling above thema silent, hopeful blessing from Timmy.