Body of Ash

by Bonnie Wheeler

  Daisy? From Lucinda’s? My hair…

  “Is that a fucking gun?” Launching towards Marge, Brian’s movements were fast.

  Katie stooped to grasp what was left of her flimsy top. Feeling exposed, she tried covering her breasts while her brain screamed for her to move. A bullet blasted, driving Brian backwards, until he lost balance and plunged to the floor. His weight crashed into her, dragging her down with him. Another shot rang past her, the impact slamming Brian harder against her. Pain jolted her body, knocking breath from her lungs.

  “Mom,” Katie wept, “help me.”

  Trying to shift him off her, Brian’s torso trapped her legs beneath him. Pools of thick blood ran from his chest and onto Katie’s thighs. A moaning sound came from his throat, mixed with a sickening whoosh of air from one of the holes in his chest. With each exhalation, red bubbles gushed from his mouth.

  He’s dying.

  “Mom,” she cried again. “Call an ambulance. We need help.” Wriggling her legs free, she pressed her hands against Brian’s wounds. Groaning at her touch, he tried batting her away. The injury gurgled beneath her fingers, like air forcing its way out of an old accordion.

  “He isn’t leaving now,” Marge said quietly. Blinking her eyes, she glanced up at her daughter with a hazy expression. “He was going home, but I didn’t want him to.”

  The blood from Brian’s wounds seeped through Katie’s fingers. Helpless, she felt her throat constrict. His labored breathing sounded like something from a horror movie.

  This can’t be happening.

  Reaching up, Brian grasped Katie’s hands, this time not trying to push her away. “Help me,” he grunted, “I can’t move.” Arching forward, a coughing fit spewed more blood from his mouth. “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Tears streamed from his eyes, mixing with the spray of crimson that coated his chin.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Katie moaned. Looking at the pastor, she knew he was dying. Despair rocked her. It was all her fault, she should have stopped her mother – should have thrown the gun away. “Mom, you have to call 911. Please.”

  Finally hearing her, Marge shuffled closer. Bending down, her long fingers caressed the side of Brian’s face. “I told you tonight was for us. Why didn’t you listen? Look what you made me do.”

  Staring up at her, Brian’s eyes bulged as he coughed. Struggling to force air in his chest, his mouth tightened to strained slit. As his body began shuddering, he turned to Katie, whispering, “Help me.”

  51

  RACHEL

  Friday 9:25 PM

  Rachel stared out at the parking lot, watching for her mom’s arrival. Illuminated by street lights, the area bustled with drivers looking for late night shopping and dining. Headlights pulled in and out – many of which were frequenting the Chinese restaurant, but it was the familiar Subaru station wagon Rachel yearned to see.

  After a stressful twenty-four hours, the teen longed to curl up in her bed at home. Thinking of her favorite pajamas and fleece comforter, she leaned from one side of the doorway to the next, hoping she would soon be curled up in her twin size bed.

  Glancing at the time, Rachel felt bad for keeping the Beckers away from home all evening. She didn’t know what she would have done if Colette didn’t take her in. The thought of wandering alone in the dark terrified her – Torrington was nothing like the quiet streets of home. Canaan wasn’t exactly crime free, but the residents of the small town cared about one another and kept a close eye on their own.

  Maybe that’s part of the problem. Mom and Dad have to keep up appearances because they’re always being scrutinized.

  Sighing, she tried not to think about what led her to this moment. Running away, being angry and let down, Rachel had to let it go and forgive her parents for making mistakes. God knew she had been making plenty of them and was far from perfect.

  “What’s on your mind,” Paul asked, joining her by the entrance.

  Even though the preacher was old, he appeared fully charged at the late hour. Dressed in his chinos and a sweater, it was hard to imagine him wearing the bright yellow fisherman waders.

  Rachel peeked towards the kitchen. Colette was still in there. After cleaning up from dinner, she busied herself preparing snacks in case Rachel’s mother and grandmother wanted to stay and visit. Smiling to herself, she imagined what kind of grandmother the woman must be. Her house was probably full of photos and crocheted doilies with cookies and treats stuffed in every corner.

  “It’s nice what she does,” Rachel replied, nodding in Colette’s direction.

  “She enjoys entertaining. It makes her feel good when she can make others happy.”

  “Not just now, but earlier, too. She took a risk picking me up. Even when I wasn’t being honest and she could tell, your wife still cared.” Steadying her gaze on Paul, Rachel wished he understood how she saw them. What their caring meant after fearing she might lose everything. “I won’t forget it.”

  “We won’t forget you either,” Paul said. Pulling over one of the chairs lined up along the wall, the noise scraped along the floor. Grabbing a second one, he motioned for her to sit. “What you need to know is that by helping you, it makes us happy. God gives us opportunities to serve others. By doing so, it brings us joy and pleases Him. We aren’t required to do anything, but when we do, we find our own lives are enriched and blessed for the experience. When Colette and I are older and unable to travel and do mission work, we will be able to think back to our time in Connecticut and remember meeting you. Think what a wonderful memory that will be.”

  Paul sounded too good to be true. All of her life, her father talked about his work at the church, but it was never about meeting the needs of strangers. Brian’s concern revolved around meeting New Hope’s financial requirements – not to mention his salary. Knowing the members took up a special collection for benevolence, Rachel figured he must have helped countless people, but when he did, her father gave the impression he was taken advantage of. What was it like to give of yourself without expecting anything in return? Paul and Colette obviously knew.

  “What do you want in life?” the preacher asked.

  Touched by his genuine willingness to listen, Rachel was unsure what to say. She talked with Jason about her thoughts for the future, but not too many others. It was hard to put words to the dreams and images that filled her mind when she pictured what her life would be like.

  “I know I want to go to college someday. Maybe pick a career that serves others and makes people happy, the way you and Colette do.”

  “What about now? What would make you happy now?” he pressed. “If you can think of that, you’ll know where to begin finding your gifts and talents, so God can better use you.”

  “At the moment, I want to go home and have everything with my parents be okay. To stay at my school and not have to leave Jason.” Eyeing him, Rachel knew he was going to think she was young and silly, but continued anyway. “I think I want to marry him. Not right away, but someday. I know it seldom works out like that, marrying your first love without having to date a bunch of people, but I hope so.”

  “You can pray for it to happen,” Paul offered. “You’ll get one of three answers: yes, no, or later. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t, but if it’s God’s plan for you, then nothing will come between you.”

  Folding her hands in her lap, Rachel considered his words. It was difficult to let go and allow her faith in God to dictate her future. She never thought about asking for personal stuff like marrying Jason someday. In church they prayed when a member was sick and for our troops overseas, but those requests felt far away and impersonal.

  “Was Colette your first love?” she asked.

  “No, my first wife was. Ellie was sixteen when we met. The whole reason I began attending church was so that I could impress her. She talked on and on about her love for Jesus. I thought if I began reading the Bible, she would pick me over some of the other boys who were trying to court her. The funny thing
was, once I read the Gospel, I fell in love with the Word just as deeply as she did.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Breast cancer. I was heartbroken and thought I would never feel that way again, but the Lord was kind enough to lead me to Colette. Over the years, we had our share of trials – illnesses, tragedy, struggles at one church or another, but we’ve always persevered. It’s because we haven’t given up on our faith. Life is hard. I wouldn’t want to do it without God.”

  As Rachel listened, she knew he truly believed in what he was sharing. That after losing Ellie and his mother suffering from Alzheimer’s disease, Preacher Paul still trusted in God to carry him through. Over the last twenty-four hours she questioned her beliefs. But after finding herself with present company, her fortune felt a little too convenient to chalk up to coincidence.

  Maybe I’m not as lost as I thought.

  “I want to believe in God, but not like my parents. I don’t want to pretend each Sunday that I’m perfect so I can look good in church.” Saying the words out loud sounded childish, but they were true. Something was missing in how she grew up, something she couldn’t feel or identify and put into words. Meeting Paul and Colette – observing how serene they were helped her realize what she wanted.

  Peace, love, my parents to be happy.

  Paul smiled. “No one can take your faith from you. Not your parents or members of your church.” Pointing at his heart, he continued, “It’s in here. God’s spirit dwells in each of us. Once we invite Him in, no one can change that. Remember that when you get home. You’re never alone.”

  Staring back out into the parking lot, Rachel contemplated his words.

  For seventeen years, she was a passenger in life, getting on and off the proverbial bus whenever she was told. Doing well in school because she was expected to, attending services each Sunday because her parents demanded – she tried not to disappoint. Seldom did Rachel give much thought to whether or not she wanted those things. Jason was easy – from the moment he kissed her, she knew that he was the perfect boyfriend, even if her friends didn’t approve. But other than him, did she strive for anything else?

  For years Rachel insisted her parents didn’t hear her, but did they deserve all the blame? She hadn’t used her voice. Refusing to decide what was important, she never believed in anything strong enough to make herself heard. Obedient and pliable, she lived to make others happy. In her quest to be the perfect daughter – she forgot to find herself.

  As her mother pulled into the spot next to Colette’s Lincoln, Rachel knew she had to be different. Her voice had always been inside her. It was time to let it out.

  52

  ANGELA

  Friday 9:25 PM

  Switching off the ignition, Angela couldn’t believe she found the right pace. Unless her GPS sent her completely off the grid, she was indeed where she was supposed to be. At the far end of the mini mall, a small sign announcing the home of the Church of Christ, hung in a store front. Despite the crazy traffic and the stress of having her mother copilot the whole way, Angela’s biggest worry was still yet to come.

  What if she refuses to come home?

  With her heart beating anxiously in her chest, Angela opened the car door, and rose to a stand. Feeling light on her feet from lack of food, the greasy smell of the neighboring restaurant made her nose wrinkle. The thought of oily pork fried rice and chow Mein noodles sickened an empty stomach.

  Peering through the plate front glass, stood Rachel on the other side. Her daughter looked weary waiting for their reunion. Angela’s eyes swelled with tears. Unable to hold back her composure, she hurried to the entrance. Forgetting about her mother following behind, she swung the door open in a broad arc, straight into the arms of her daughter. Hugging Rachel tightly, Angela buried her face in her daughter’s hair, relieved to have her so close.

  “Don’t ever leave me again,” she sobbed. “Promise, me. We’ll always talks things out.”

  Rachel trembled against her. “Okay,” the teen offered, unwilling to let go.

  “I was so scared. I didn’t know if you were safe.” Glancing up, Angela looked into the expectant faces of an elderly couple. Standing side by side, they didn’t look like the typical church leader pair. With the woman in sweats and the gentleman wearing a sweater instead of a suit jacket, Angela knew their priorities weren’t based on first impressions. Despite their nontraditional attire, they obviously weren’t a danger in anyway.

  Maybe you should learn from that. All your attempts of trying to appear perfect got you nowhere. You and your child are both miserable and your husband has gotten away with a list of crimes.

  Shrugging off her inner scolding, Angela offered a thankful smile. Hugging Rachel tighter, she was relieved the experience was almost over. Her daughter was okay. Nothing else mattered at the moment, but that. Not the pretense of running the happiest home or acting like her station placed her above others because she was a pastor’s wife. No longer wanting any of it, she was determined to be real.

  Even if it isn’t pretty and others judge. I have to do this for us.

  After clearing her throat, Angela’s mother introduced herself. “Good evening. I’m Rachel’s grandmother, Sylvia Bennett.”

  As Paul and Colette Becker made their acquaintances and invited the women in for coffee before heading off, Rachel tugged her mother’s sleeve. Glancing down at her daughter, Angela could see the teen was crying.

  “Can we step outside?” Rachel asked. “I want to talk to you alone without Grandma.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Out on the front walk, Angela sat down next to Rachel on the curb.

  Cars and trucks passed on the street. Their purring motors and speakers generated a constant hum. Despite the activity, Angela felt alone with her daughter. Reaching for Rachel’s hand, the teen self-consciously let her take it. How long had it been since she had touched her child? Years ago, when Rachel was little, she would climb in Angela’s lap for a story or request her mother braid her hair, but that was a long time ago. Somehow in a short space of time, Rachel had become a young woman.

  Like those photos in her room, at the beach. She isn’t a child anymore.

  “First, I want you to know that I realize I shouldn’t have left like that,” Rachel began. “I was upset and angry. And that woman came…”

  Angela wanted to butt in, to tell Rachel what it was like to discover the empty room, but didn’t. Holding her daughter, feeling her near, was enough for now. There would be time for her later.

  “…I can’t believe Dad would do that to you – to our family. That he would want a woman like Marge Finch.” Kicking at a pebble, Rachel avoided meeting Angela’s eyes. “The thing is, I’m older now. I’m going to be in college soon. If I’m going to be leaving, I want say in where I go. Decisions shouldn’t be made without me.”

  “You’re right,” Angela sighed. “You’re father and I had lost sight of how you’ve grown. We were too focused on our own needs when we should have been thinking of you.”

  The truth was, Rachel had grown up. She wasn’t the little girl she used to be. It was time to encourage her to make her decisions, to see where she wanted to go in life.

  “I just want to be happy. Both of us need to that. Do you realize you never smile? You always seem so depressed and far away.” Tilting to face her, Rachel’s expression was concerned. The skin above her brow furrowed as she watched her mother. “You blew up my phone today. You must have called at least a dozen times. As angry as I was, I knew you were thinking of me,” she said. A slight smile darted across her face, but was quickly gone. “Dad didn’t call me once. Is he with Marge?”

  The question hung in the air between them. After leaving the house with Sylvia, Angela hadn’t heard anything from her husband. The last she saw of him, he was carrying the mostly empty bottle of booze up the stairs, claiming he was going to get washed up and then search for their daughter. He hadn’t even asked where Angela planned to go.<
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  “We need to be different, Mom. Life is too short to be sad all of the time. I want more than that.”

  Angela wanted more, it just felt so hard to ask for. What would it take to find peace of mind? To be able to awaken each day to a new sunrise and look forward to what the day would offer? Having a happy family was a start. Knowing her daughter was well loved and cared for would bring Angela joy.

  But what about Brian?

  As long as he was hurting them both with his selfishness, it would be impossible to move forward. As it was, Angela felt shame whenever she walked into the church at home. He had been taken advantage of the congregation for years, taking extra money on the side, using the credit cards for personal pleasure. And the women – how many of them did he see outside of the church for personal reasons? Whispers found their way around a small town, even when she tried not to acknowledge they were there.