It was fortunate they began this process weeks in advance. It allowed them time to get their documents in order to travel across the northern border. Patience was able to reach Leland Unger with telegrams to arrange their visit. And she presumed Schuler was doing the same with his brother and acquaintance in Lambert as they dropped by the telegraph office together over the next several days.

Arrangements made and everything accounted for at home and for their coming journey, the only thing left to do was to wait for the day of departure. With each sunset, Patience’s heart thumped a little faster. She would soon find herself thousands of miles away from all that was familiar to her. It was the greatest comfort that Schuler and Anax would be by her side.

To pass the time and alleviate the nagging anticipation, Patience completed her hand-crafted gifts. And to keep herself busy, she finished the miniature wedding dress and an outfit for the doll in Schuler’s visage as well. With embroidery thread, features came to life on the blank fabric heads. But as she moved from the simple face to the scalp, Patience thought it odd to stitch burns onto her doll.

“Wouldn’t you rather have it look nice and pretty?” she asked one evening. Her hand hovered over the doll, needle ready to make the first stitch.

Anax’s eye roved to the young woman. “Then it wouldn’t be you.”

A snort came from Schuler below the skull. “Not the best compliment.” He cranked the tuning peg of his guitar.

Patience smiled and chuckled. “I understand the intention. Thank you, Anax.” She stabbed the point through and dragged the dusty-rose thread into place.

The dolls came to life as the days passed. Patience sewed tiny slippers and tiny boots. She even sewed tiny loops onto the hands as wedding rings. With Anax’s help, Patience improvised wigs from embroidery thread. She even styled the threads to match their own hairstyles. Anax’s dexterous tendrils were a blessing when it came to braiding.

Patience was quite amused at how well the dolls reflected their real counterparts. She admired the details put into them and beheld them proudly once the final thread was cut. But despite the fine work, they felt incomplete.

“What are we to do with you?” Patience sighed. “I can’t sew anything as complex as your skull at that size.”

“I’ve a solution,” Anax said atop Schuler.

The man stood from the armchair, resting his guitar in his place on the seat. “Actually it was both of our plan,” he said. He then hopped over to the hall and opened the door leading into Patience’s old room.

Patience tilted her head quizzically, but waited silently. Her husband returned with a small box in his hand which he offered to her. Anax then lifted the lid away to reveal a miniature clay replica of his skull. Patience gasped.

“How did you—”

A broad smile lifted Schuler’s face. “Anax and I had been talking about how he might be incorporated. And we thought we’d surprise you with this!”

“During your last trip into Keaton, we went into the atelier and got out the clay!” Anax trilled.

“Well, I’m glad to see you are keeping up with your sculpting skills!” awed Patience, taking the little skull out of the box. She turned it gingerly in her fingers, delighting in the minuscule teeth. Just as she had marveled over the first clay replica Anax made last spring, she drank in every detail, astounded by his ability.

The gray clay had been painted with wood stain. And while it did not reflect the beauty of the real skull, it had its own charm that matched with the dolls. Patience lifted Schuler’s doll from the cushion beside her and adorned him with the clay skull. It fitted perfectly.

Patience then stepped to the fireplace mantel where she set their handiwork. They leaned against each other, the clay skull pulling Schuler’s doll toward its cloth wife. Schuler came to Patience’s side and together the trio gazed lovingly upon the little family made in their image.

Quiet settled over the household the evening before their embarkation. Patience expected her partners to want a grand send-off and spend the final night in their bed for the year sleeping little. However, they came to rest with nary a stray hand. Only a chaste kiss passed between the husband and wife. And light strokes from the skull’s mist sent them to bed.

The silence planted a bit of unease in Patience, but she refused to voice it to her partners. She barely understood it herself. As she tucked her arms below the covers, she watched Anax snake a tendril to the writing desk and pluck a stack of letters from Tandy. He had finished most of the books in their home library and, when in want of some reading material, found enjoyment in revisiting old letters. This familiar scene in the faint light of a lamp soothed Patience enough to allow her eyes to shut.

Anax stood as a guardian. He saw after his life-donors at their most vulnerable. His eye regarded Patience with warmth. Music and added thrills in bed aside, the greatest gift Schuler gave him as a life-donor was the ability to fully gaze upon his treasured pet. He extended a thin tendril and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. He hated when his donors slept. Dreams were nonsensical to watch. But seeing Patience’s serene face was some consolation. 

Robbed of sleep in his second life, Anax was a restless ghost. He did, however, fall into trances when all was still. In the comfort of the cottage, he found many still nights. The peace forged between Schuler and Patience afforded him moments of inattention. This was one such night. Thoroughly safe and secure, he needed not be on alert. Finished with the letters, Anax extinguished the lamp. The orb of his eye dimmed into nothingness.

Despite the serenity, Patience’s head filled with a dream. She was alone. She was in the middle of a great evergreen forest. And she was running.

In the deep veil of night, her hand blindly reached for her husband. Fingertips alighted on the fuzzy surface of his thigh. From there she had only a short way to find his hand. Entwining with his fingers, Patience sighed. The very physical presence of Schuler assuaged her racing mind and heart. The warmth of his hand was nearly as comforting as a full embrace. To simply know he was there fortified her spirit.