Arc-en-ciel (freewrite) (One Last Adventure #2)

This is the second part of an on-going story. Here's the first one:

Sometime-voices

He heard the noises long before he saw the flashing lights. Despite his age, the old man still had perfect hearing.
They're looking for me, he thought. And it felt nice because nobody had looked for him in a mighty long time. His children, now grown-ups with tedious jobs and most sour faces, seemed to take him for granted, as if he'd always be there, at the home, just waiting for the Sundays, when they'd come visit and his world would be filled with meaning once more.
Of course, if you asked them, they would've never admitted to feeling this way about their dear old Dad, who was, by and large, still quite in his prime. No, they would never tell you that, yet they did this thing where they gracefully accepted the roles of miracles in the old man's life and while the old man loved them all dearly, they were by far not miracles. Not his, at least.
The old man was called Andreas and he'd always known that although nice, his children weren't that far from completely ordinary. And he'd always known they would not, in the long term, prove to be worthwhile companions, although it pained him greatly to admit this, even now. But he needed someone destined for adventure, like he was.
And so far, the only person he had encountered that fit the description was himself.
So, Andreas walked on, hearing the voices in his head grow louder, while the buzzing of the helicopter grew fainter behind him until it disappeared completely. And he let it go.

Andreas had been listening to the voices for close to fifty seven years now, ever since he was a boy, and he heard the, one cold afternoon, playing in his backyard. They had told him then to get on his little play-bike and ride with them to the far-out edge of town and even as a small boy, Andreas had known that these voices were not to be ignored or played with. So, he'd done what they said and he rode to the edge of town only to find the faces of his ancestors, all looking up at him from the cold dirt. And the woman.
The woman with the soft blonde hair and the eyes like melting honey. And she smiled and looked through him and Andreas knew, then and there, that she was not real.
'You came for me,' she whispered into the boy's ear, sending shivers down his spine. 'You promised me, and now here you are.'
And then she did the most perfect thing – she smiled down at him and her face and entire body lit up with a million brimming fireflies.
'But I've never met you,' the boy said, confused.
'In another life, you promised. Don't worry, little one, this will all make sense to you one day.'
And she left him, wrapped in a cloud of flashing lights, like a rainbow in an archway, hidden behind a door to some other place. And through all his life, Andreas had followed the image of this strange woman, that lead him from place to place, through danger and happiness and sorrow and terrible excitement.
And now, he hoped, was finally the time when it would all make sense to him.

To be continued.

Today's prompt was 'helicopter'. Check out @mariannewest to join our wonderful freewriting community!

I recently published my first book - a collection of Freewrites, much like this one, so if you enjoyed -