Epilogue
Six weeks later
Daz stood at the edge of the tarmac and watched the Neptune circle overhead before it lined up to come in on the main runway. The dying light of the low sun through the first of the summer monsoon’s clouds painted it in shades of gold and orange, while the red tail and wingtips still shone scarlet.
From some dim memory came a song Nana had sung, telling him it was from her girlhood when they had something on the radio called “The Hit Parade” and rock and roll wasn’t even born yet. It told about someone looking out to sea where their lover’s boat was coming in, sails brilliant in the sunset. He only had to change it a little bit: Red tails in the sunset…bring my lover home safely to me.
For a minute, a mist dimmed his sight. When it cleared, the bird was down an
