Standing beside her pint-sized partner, Chelsea placed her hand on Alexa’s shoulder and massaged gently. Chelsea breathed the stuffy air that filled the oppressive church, and she longed to be outdoors even though there was not a trace of the slightest breeze blowing anywhere. Again her attention trailed out the church to Ben, who sat alone and lost at the end of the sidewalk.
Chelsea struggled to keep her feet planted alongside her wedding party groomsman. All she really wanted was to flee the scene and whisk Ben away in order to liberate him from his sorrow. She wanted to feel herself pressed against him on the shore of a distant beach. She watched as he lay back against the pavement and he seemed to drift away. She wished it were possible to reel him in from his sea grief.
With two cameras now hanging from his neck, Thad whizzed past Chelsea and the bridal party as made his way to the bride and her father. Ominously veiled, Kate clutched tightly to her bouquet. Buried under teeming antique white, she let Ray Hesse wrap his arm proudly around her for the sake of Thad’s camera. Father and daughter waited in silence behind the wedding attendants, and then Thad retreated to the balcony. With all eyes focused on Nick and the priest at the front of the church, Kate stepped away from her father and awaited her cue to march forward.
After an eternity of silence, the wedding Mass began. Evangelica’s pre-recorded vocals flooded each crevice of the mammoth cathedral with her song, and the overly ornate, resplendent church came alive. Finally, the attendants made their way in pairs toward the altar, and their steps coincided with the subdued vital beat of Vange’s vocals.
The sweet breaths of her exhilarating song breathed its life force into everyone present. Each perfect note was reassurance that life was more than a chaotic series of sounds and visuals; it was a running subtext, and there was no choice except grapple with the hope of making sense of it all. The unfaltering waves of her vibrant voice lifted them out from under the depths of time, and her heavenly music elevated them to a place where the perfect eulogy was a song.
Evangelica’s presence permeated the church and nudged them along with a subtle impact, not unlike a gentle breeze sweeping the smothering humidity aside. Her very essence rippled infinitely and indefinitely, suggesting her absence was a momentary pause, a skipped beat which insinuated there was no such thing as good-byes. She was part of them, and yet apart from them.
Kate robotically fell into synchronized unison with others, and she came alive only at the sound of the haunting voice, which prodded her forward. In the distance, the continuous distraction of cameras flashing prevented her from losing herself in the moment.
When it came time for Nick and Kate to issue their vows, Nick lifted the veil above her head, and the bride’s attention focused on the crucifix hanging above, anything but her groom’s eyes. She studied his cufflinks along with the floral arrangements on the altar. The sensation of her own shifting aching feet seemed more relevant than his immediate attention. Nick was taken aback by the stoic expression on her face, and he looked with resignation at his own hands.
As Nick glanced back at the front entrance, Kate abruptly divorced herself of any emotional investment in the wedding ceremony. Her body became rigid as her thoughts abandoned the scene unfolding before them. Kindly Father Tim perceptively realized there was something seriously wrong, and he softly repeated Kate’s name to no avail. So, he turned to Nick for assistance, but his gaze was fixated on the matte gold crucifix. A Lake Huron-sized sea of indifference had accumulated between the bride and groom.
Not quite sure what was expected of him, Nick studied Kate searching for an answer or sign. When Kate finally turned to face him she was devoid of emotion, and it appeared a porcelain figurine had replaced the woman he knew and loved. Nick repeated her name to no avail. By now it had become apparent to everyone something was catastrophically awry at the altar, and the ceremony sputtered to a standstill. As the crowd struggled to make sense of the situation unfolding before them, the priest continued to feign normalcy as he waxed prophetic about ties that bind.
Nick placed his hand on Kate’s elbow, and he repeated her name, “Kate – Katie – Kate.”
Without warning, she burst louder than intended, “What? What do you want from me?”
“Kate,” he whispered, mining the exact words to express his remorse.
“What?” Kate demanded, clutching her bouquet. She asked softly, “What do you want from me? What? What is it?”
“Not like this, Kate,” he said gently, looking into her bloodshot eyes.
She remained unmoving and expressionless.
“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” he said.
The confused priest looked back and forth at the questioning groom and the stalwart bride. The silence echoing between them was earsplitting. The situation was beyond Father Tim’s control, and he waited patiently for the bride and groom to resolve whatever it was that acted as a barrier separating them from a lifetime of matrimonial bliss.
Nick asked, “Where’s the love, Kate?”
Kate hung back, silent for a long moment until she managed, “She took it with her. It died with her.”
“You can’t mean that.”
Kate said solemnly, “When she left, she took everything.”
She stared emptily and was transfixed emotionlessly on the altar. Her eyes had become unforgiving as glass, and no matter how deep Nick peered into the recesses of her being, nothingness reflected back at him. His mind raced with thoughts of how to make things right, but the more he thought the less anything mattered. There was nothing he could do now, except perhaps unshackle them both from a future plagued with guilt and regret.
Nick realized now why she had met him here at the altar, and it was not for the obvious reason to become man and wife. Rather than to embark on the customary new beginning, she had come to settle the score once and for all. He could not bear to look at her any longer, and he turned away to escape her locked, stony expression. Consciously, he deliberately turned away from his bride. He would fall on the proverbial sword and provide the ultimate sacrifice. As he forged his way casually down the center aisle, he made his way past the shocked gasps and mortified expressions of the bewildered crowd. Their flustered intakes of breath and judgmental eyes followed him as he kept walking, confident and surefooted.
“Bastard,” Chelsea cursed under her breath, and she rushed to the side of the dry-eyed, stranded woman in white. Chelsea wrapped her arm around her shoulder, but the unresponsive bride failed to acknowledge any display of condolence. Kate remained expressionlessly transfixed on Nick’s backside as he made his way down the long barren aisle out of her life.
Camera flashes reflected in Kate’s serene eyes, and each glowing burst was like a heavenly good-bye, fleeting and indefinite. High above in the balcony, Thad watched as a determinedly calm Nick grew larger in the window frame of his camera, and he could not help but feel a hundred dollars richer.
the end
About the Author
Todd Erickson is a school librarian living in the Detroit suburb of Ferndale with his partner. He was born in Rogers City, Michigan near Lake Huron. He grew up on a steady diet of gardening, ice cream and Knots Landing – all of which he still enjoys to this day in some form or other.
Thank you for reading. If you have made it this far, congratulations, but you might be wondering what is up with the book cover as it’s not exactly representative of any situation from the book. I conceived the image as an epilogue. I have my suspicions of what it represents, but feel free to email me your thoughts at: [email protected]
This story is dedicated to the memories of my Grandmother Barbara Jean Shea Smith, and also to my father Michael John Erickson. Each died of familial ALS. It’s also dedicated to my family, along with every family living with the reality of this disease.
A lot of friends encouraged me in the initial stages of this story, which incidentally began 20 years ago. Some read all of it, or pieces of it, and encouraged me, and some lis
tened patiently to ideas that were a work in progress. To them, I say thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Trying the Knot Page 35
