Ella B. Free (11)

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Glen

I gave her the CD the morning before the Night of the Freeing. She came out of the elevator at 8.37 a. m. on September 5th, in a haste to get to work. She saw me and smiled. I said:

–Morning, Ella! Here, listen to this when you go to bed tonight. It’ll help!

I handed her the CD as she rushed past the counter. She grabbed it and said:

–Thanks, Glen, I will!

She was wearing a white and blue shirt, black skinny jeans and black sandals. Her bag moved nicely alongside her as she walked. Before she disappeared through the main door, I wished for a second I were that bag so she would take me with her everywhere she went.

On the Night of the Freeing, I know the last thing she heard was my voice. No one can take that away from me now. She listened to the sound of the seashore for exactly 21 minutes and then, she heard me whispering in her ear, as though I was right there with her, next to her in her bed, like I should’ve been. I whispered to her and only her, softly, tactfully: “Birds are beautiful creatures made to be free and soar into the sky. You are beautiful, my dear. Your whole body was made to fly. Your head, your beak, your wings - feel them stretching, searching for the clouds. Your feet were wonderfully designed to hide in your body so you can glide. Glide in the wind. Birds like you, my dear, are meant to fly. Be free now, forever. Be free. Birds of a feather flock together. The sky awaits for you. You know what to do. It’s the only thing to do. Look ahead and then fly, fly away.”