Marvel: The Enlightened One-Chapter 57: [] - Anya—My Sister (Bonus)
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The next morning.
Monday.
Hawk was up before the sun. He had already requested the day off last Friday, but he didn’t head straight for the cemetery.
Instead, he packed the five Chitauri weapons into a brand-new golf bag he’d bought the day before—and took a cab to a small burrito shop near a local orphanage.
The owner, a Mexican man who seemed to recognize him, looked genuinely surprised when Hawk walked in.
"Hawk..." the owner began, then a flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Is it the tenth already?"
Hawk nodded, pulling a few crumpled bills from his pocket and handing them over.
The owner took the cash with a familiar nod. "Just a minute."
A short while later, two freshly made burritos were packed and ready to go.
Hawk took the bag, offered a quiet "thanks," and left, the golf bag heavy on his shoulder.
...
An hour later, after a long, meandering walk through the surrounding neighborhoods, Hawk hailed another cab. He was now carrying nearly a dozen bags of takeout from various local restaurants.
His destination: Calvary Cemetery.
Sprawling across the border of Brooklyn and Queens, Calvary Cemetery was a historic landmark, founded in 1848.
Logically, after more than a century, it should have been completely full. And it was. But in 1984, the cemetery was purchased from the city by a private corporation.
And just like that, Calvary became a for-profit enterprise.
The new owners began a "cleanup." Three months later, the cemetery reopened, with thousands of new plots suddenly available.
No one asked where the old occupants had gone.
And no one protested.
To keep up with the times, the new owners even developed a special section on a pristine, north-facing hill—prime real estate with beautiful views and peaceful surroundings to attract discerning clientele. They also kept their government contracts for state-funded burials.
It was nine in the morning by the time Hawk arrived.
The guard at the gate inspected the paperwork Hawk provided, gave a curious glance at the golf bag, but waved him through without a search.
The cemetery was massive, a quiet kingdom of the dead spanning two boroughs.
Hawk had been here many times before. He knew the way by heart. A fifteen-minute walk along a winding stone path brought him to a small, simple headstone.
A photograph was affixed to the marble, showing a young girl with a sweet, radiant smile.
Below it, her name was engraved.
ANYA
May 20, 1995 – September 10, 2009
Hawk set the golf bag down on the grass. He crouched in front of the grave and carefully, almost reverently, arranged the bags of food on the small stone ledge before it—a feast for two. He then looked up at the photograph, at the smiling face frozen in time.
Hawk didn’t speak.
He just watched, and as he stared at her smile, a genuine, unguarded smile of his own slowly formed—the same one that appeared each morning when he first saw the matching photo on his nightstand.
After a moment, he pulled his phone from his pocket—already turned off so he wouldn’t be disturbed—and set it aside. He shifted, leaning his back against the cool stone of the headstone, and looked out at the view.
From a distance, it was as if he and the girl in the photograph were sitting together, their gazes fixed on the same horizon, sharing the quiet beauty of the morning.
...
Far across the city.
Midtown School of Science and Technology.
"Gwen, have you seen Hawk??"
"Uh..."
Gwen, who was just about to put her backpack in her locker, paused as a call from Mrs. Snow, the guidance counselor, came through.
"Didn’t he ask you for the day off?"
"He did, but I just got off the phone with NYU. Their admissions officers are coming to the school today."
"...They’re here for Hawk?"
"Yes. But I can’t reach him. God, when he didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t reach him. Now he has one, and he keeps it turned off!" Mrs. Snow sounded like she was at the end of her rope. This was somehow worse than him not having a phone at all.
"I thought maybe he told you where he was going. Do you have any idea?"
"Well..."
Gwen hesitated. She had a pretty good idea of where he was, but she didn’t know if he wanted her to know. She knew today was important to him, a private day.
"The NYU reps are finalizing their early admissions list today. If Hawk doesn’t show up, he could miss his chance. It would be such a shame."
"Okay."
Hearing that, Gwen made her decision. She knew how much preparation Hawk had put into his NYU application. This was his future on the line. She couldn’t let him miss it. "Alright, Mrs. Snow. I’ll go find him. But I might need to take the rest of the day off."
A wave of relief washed over Mrs. Snow’s voice. "Sure."
After hanging up, Mrs. Snow shook her head, then a small smile touched her lips.
Of course.
It had to be Gwen.
...
On the other end, Gwen ended the call, stuffed her textbooks back into her locker, grabbed her bag, and headed for the parking lot. Within minutes, her yellow Corolla was pulling out of the school and heading for the highway.
She drove straight to Calvary Cemetery.
She parked outside the main gate and explained the situation to the staff, who let her in without any issue.
Gwen seemed to know her way around. She followed the stone path, and as she rounded a familiar corner, she saw him. He was leaning back against a small headstone, one leg stretched out, the other bent, his arm resting casually on his knee.
Hawk, lost in his own world, heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the gravel. His focus snapped back to the present, and he turned to see Gwen walking cautiously toward him.
Seeing the small, unsurprised smile that formed on his face, Gwen felt a wave of relief. She walked over, her steps slowing as she approached.
She didn’t ask him about NYU. Instead, her eyes fell on the tombstone, on the photograph of the girl—the same one from the frame on his nightstand. She looked from the photo to Hawk, who was still leaning against the stone, and her voice was soft, gentle.
"Can you tell me about her?"
Hawk smiled faintly, his gaze turning back to the picture on the headstone.
"Anya."
"My..."
"Sister."
"..."
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