Absolution

by Amanda Dick

  He slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel, wishing he had never made that promise to Ally. The thought of the funeral, of having to watch in silence as Jack stood up in front of everyone to deliver Tom’s eulogy, made him sick to his stomach. Tom deserved better.

  Ally sat in the passenger seat of Callum’s car, staring out the window. She wished the church was further away than just a fifteen minute drive. She would have happily sat in the car for another hour if it meant she could avoid the inevitable for a while longer.

  “You okay?”

  The concern in Callum’s voice was evident, but the question was so ridiculous she ignored him. To his credit, he didn’t push the issue. Maggie and Jane sat in the back seat in silence. By the time they pulled up in front of the church, she was so tense she wasn’t sure she could move even if she wanted to. As they parked along from the church, cars already lining the street, her anxiety mounted.

  “Come on,” Callum said, to no one in particular. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She found herself glued to the seat. She stared out through the windshield, searching desperately for courage. One thought rang out louder than the others.

  He’s here, somewhere.

  Callum opened the passenger door and crouched down beside her. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes I do,” she said, carefully controlling her voice.

  “Okay,” he murmured. “If you’re sure. We’re gonna be right beside you.”

  He hung her crutches over the car door and stepped back to give her room. Willing her hands to stop shaking, she pulled herself up and out of the car, locking her braces and slipping her arms into her crutches without a word.

  Maggie appeared at her side, carefully draping her arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s get inside and find a seat.”

  Callum waited, then pushed the car door closed behind her. Together, they headed down the street towards the church. Ally found herself having to concentrate harder than usual to co-ordinate her movements. Her shoulders were tense, making progress slow. She wanted to cry, such was the frustration.

  “Remember your promise,” Jane whispered to Callum.

  Her stomach knotted up even tighter but she kept moving. Her eyes were fixed determinedly on her legs as she threw each hip forward, her legs following suit.

  “Can we sit near the back?” she mumbled.

  “Absolutely. Good idea.”

  As they got to the front steps of the church, she froze. The thought of walking inside made her blood run cold. “I need a minute.”

  “It’s okay.” Callum squeezed her arm gently. “We’ll wait. Take your time.”

  She took a shuddering breath. “I just need to get my head around this.”

  “It’s fine,” he urged Maggie and Jane. “I’ll wait with her, you go ahead, save us a seat.”

  Ally opened her mouth to protest, but Callum was quicker. “I’m not leaving you out here by yourself.”

  A group of people walked past them into the church.

  “Come on, let’s go find somewhere to sit down for a minute.” Callum nodded towards the garden laid out next to the church.

  With mature trees and pretty flowerbeds, it was sprinkled with benches donated by parishioners in memory of loved ones. The perfect place to find some solitude and take a breather from the chaos.

  As she let Callum usher her away from the steps, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. It felt like everyone was watching her. The prodigal son had returned, along with the rumours about why he had left – with herself square in the middle of them.

  Jack arrived at the church and sat in his car for several minutes, watching people arrive. They huddled together in small groups, before finally making their way inside. He spotted Father David at the church door, greeting folk as they entered, reminding him painfully of his mother’s funeral.

  When he could finally bring himself to get out of the car, he headed straight for the church door before he could change his mind. He allowed Father David to usher him to the front pew, surrounded by faces that he both did and didn’t recognise. He kept his head down, trying to block out the whispers that seemed to follow him. He felt like a spotlight was shining on him.

  A few of the more direct friends of his father came up to him and shook his hand, offering their condolences, their expressions caged. He smiled and thanked them woodenly. It felt like every pair of eyes in the church was on him. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in the past four years.

  Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the service began. He silently prayed for strength, in the same breath knowing he hadn’t any right to pray for anything. His hands were wet with perspiration as he wiped them hard against his thighs, trying to ignore the fact that his father’s coffin lay mere feet from where he sat.

  An unfamiliar photo of his father stood on top of it. He had aged in the past four years, and not just chronologically. He looked weathered, beaten down. Old. It tore at his heart.

  Did I do that? Did I make it so hard on him by not being here, that I wore him down until he couldn’t take it anymore? Did he die not of a heart attack, but of a broken heart?

  He vaguely recalled hearing a hymn sung, then Father David stepped up to the pulpit to speak. He couldn’t hear a thing for the pounding in his ears.

  A hand patted his shoulder lightly. It was time for him to step up and give his eulogy. He stared blankly up at Father David in front of him, and received a smile of encouragement as he beckoned towards him. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he made his way over to the pulpit, where the priest shook his hand firmly and stepped aside. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow and he worried he wouldn’t be able to speak.

  As he turned to face the body of the church, the sea of faces swam in front of him. He unconsciously searched the congregation for Ally, until self-preservation kicked in. If he saw her, he would never get through this. Tearing his attention away, he found himself staring again at his father’s coffin. The unfamiliar photograph gazed back at him.

  Then he was barreling down the aisle with his head down, aware only of the knot in his chest drawing ever tighter, threatening to choke him. He burst through the double doors of the church and out into the sunshine, gulping in air like a diver resurfacing. Searching wildly, his need to escape took precedence over everything else. Locking onto the garden alongside the church, he stumbled towards the nearest bench and sank into it, frightened that at any moment his lungs might burst.

  Ally sat on a bench next to Callum, wringing her hands in her lap. Her pulse raced. Callum laid his hand over hers to still them.

  “Just try and breathe.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Maybe you should go inside – no point in both of us sitting out here.”

  “I’m not going in without you. Either we both go in, or we both sit here. Either way is fine by me.”

  “I want to go in – I do – but I don’t know if I can.”

  “There’s no hurry, just take your time.”

  Callum squeezed her hand encouragingly but it only annoyed her even more. Sitting up straight, she took another deep breath and reached down to straighten out one leg, locking the brace. She maneuvered herself upright, locking the other brace and sliding her arms into the cuffs of her crutches, automatically adjusting her centre of gravity.

  “Are you sure about this?” Callum asked, standing up and straightening his tie.

  “If I don’t go in now, I never will.”

  “Alright then. Let’s do this.”

  She began walking, watching her legs carefully on the uneven ground. The last thing she needed right now was to face-plant. She tried to focus on the fact that she was here for Tom, that he would want her to be inside the church, celebrating his life, not hiding out here like a frightened five-year-old.

  She felt Callum stiffen beside her and she stopped walking to look up. Jack stood just a few feet away, staring at h
er.

  Suddenly, she forgot how to breathe.

  Their eyes locked.

  She’s standing.

  Jack wanted to ask her how, but he didn’t have the words. Her body language, the look on her face, everything about her screamed that he needed to be careful. He searched relentlessly for an opening, a sign, anything. She shook her head slowly, her eyes clouded with emotion so thick that he couldn’t penetrate. He lowered his gaze to her legs. She was using crutches, her hands gripping the handles so tightly that her knuckles glowed white, visible even from where he stood. But she was standing – no wheelchair. His heart soared.

  “You’re walking.”

  The words hung in the air between them. Every time he had imagined this moment – and there had been literally hundreds – never had he thought that she would just be standing in front of him like this. It was a miracle.

  “You need to get out of here,” Callum interrupted, taking a step towards him.

  Jack put his hands up in self-defense, automatically taking a step backwards as he tore his gaze away from Ally to face Callum’s anger head-on.

  “Fair warning, Jack.”

  Hatred spilled out between each word as Jack’s body reacted to the trauma, breaking into a cold sweat.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, taking another step backwards.

  Callum pushed him roughly and Jack stumbled back, caught off guard.

  “Don’t make me say it again.”

  “I’m sorry, I –“

  “Save it,” Callum hissed. “Bottom line here? Not interested.”

  Jack had difficulty thinking straight as confusion, guilt and fear swirled in his head and his heart, pulling him off-centre. The fury that rolled off Callum did not surprise him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Callum immediately shut him down.

  “You need to go.”

  “I didn’t mean to –“

  “Where the hell do you get off?” Callum demanded, close enough for Jack to see the fire in his eyes. He pointed at the church beside them. “Your father’s in there, Jack – his coffin is in there! And you stand out here and say you’re sorry?” He shook his head, almost foaming at the mouth with the effort it took to keep his temper under control. “It’s a little late for sorry, don’t you think?”

  His heart sank, the truth slicing through it like a knife through butter.

  “Callum, please!” Ally cried desperately.

  “I don’t want to fight,” he said. “I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  Callum frowned, shaking his head. “You have no idea do you? You just thought that if you couldn’t see what was going on here, it wasn’t happening? Do you realise how selfish that was – what that did to him? To Ally, to me?”

  Jack struggled to keep it together. Every word seemed to weaken his resolve, wearing him down. He took another step backwards, closely followed by Callum.

  “Look, I know –“

  “You know nothing!” Callum shouted, bearing down on him.

  “Stop it!” Ally begged. “Please don’t do this!”

  “Why couldn’t you have come back last week? Or last month, or a year ago? But no, you come back for your Dad’s funeral. What the hell is the point of that?”

  “Hey!” Maggie demanded, appearing out of nowhere. “What’s going on here?”

  Jack glanced over Callum’s shoulder at Maggie, standing with her arm around a sobbing Ally. Jane stood behind them, watching closely.

  “Stop this, right now!” Maggie hissed at Callum.

  Callum glared at him, struggling to control his temper, before finally turning to rejoin Ally, Maggie and Jane. The four of them stood there, watching Jack in stony silence, united against him.

  “You’ve got every right to be pissed,” he said, addressing Callum.

  “You think?” Callum’s nostrils flared. “I have no idea why you even came back here. It’s too late for Tom, and we don’t need you anymore – we needed you four years ago, but you disappeared like the coward you are and left us to deal with everything, which we did – without you.”

  Faint strains of a hymn carried out on the wind from the funeral service still progressing inside the church.

  Callum took a step closer. “Do you even know what that did to him, you running off like that? Do you have a clue at all?”

  Jack’s heart hammered in his chest and he opened his mouth to speak, but Callum wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. Callum took another step towards him and grabbed the collar of his jacket. Backing him up against the nearest tree, Callum drew his fist back.

  “Don’t! Please!”

  Callum’s jaw tensed. Even though he was glaring daggers at Jack, it was Ally he was talking to. “I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t what you wanted, but it’s what he deserves.”

  His fist hovered in mid-air, trembling with anticipation. His grip on Jack’s shirt tightened, leaving him with nowhere to go.

  “You walked out on all of us that day, not just her,” he said, to Jack this time. “You don’t get a second chance after something like that.”

  Jack’s heart hammered in his chest, the bark from the tree digging into his back.

  “Don’t do this – not now, not like this,” Jane begged, walking over to them. “You promised.”

  Callum turned to her and Jack felt his grip on his shirt loosen. He held his breath. Slowly, Callum released his shirt altogether and took a step back. Jack straightened out his jacket and shirt and stole a quick glance at Ally. She stared back at him in silent desperation, Maggie’s arm around her shoulders.

  Jane had managed to position her body between himself and Callum, forming a physical barrier. She snaked her arm around Callum’s waist and tried to draw him away, but he stood his ground.

  Jack shook his head. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  The weight of their collective gaze fell upon him. Ally had tears rolling freely down her cheeks, which only added to the ache in his heart. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I –”

  Callum shoved Jane aside and threw a punch that knocked Jack back into the trunk of the tree so fast, he never even saw it coming. There was a roaring in his ears as he slid to the ground. Before he could get to his feet, Callum threw another punch, his fist connecting with Jack’s cheek and jarring his entire body. He barely had enough time to register what was happening before he was hit a third time, making his head almost literally spin. Callum reached down to grab his shirt front and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet.

  “You selfish bastard!” he yelled, only inches from his face. “Not one damn word from you in four years and now you ask if she’s okay?”

  Jack shook his head to clear it of the ringing in his ears. His vision swam, and he had a flashback to one night a lifetime ago, and the power behind Callum’s right hook.

  His head was on fire. Acting entirely from instinct, he threw a desperate punch that caught Callum off guard and sent him reeling backwards, staggering to stay on his feet. Seizing his chance, Jack flew after him, tackling him around the waist as they both hit the ground, scrambling to get a decent grip on each other. Frustration and anger boiled over, finesse giving way to raw emotion. Voices in the background became white noise as he fought to gain the upper hand. Guilt was pushed aside, superseded by the desperate need to survive.

  This wasn’t like any fight he had ever been in before. Yet despite the fact that he felt he deserved it, his survival instinct was too strong to be suppressed.

  Out of nowhere, rough hands on his shoulders forced him bodily upwards. He scrambled to maintain his equilibrium, panting heavily. Callum was facing him, restrained by men he didn’t recognise. The noise was deafening but he couldn’t distinguish the ringing in his ears from the multitude of voices that surrounded them. Callum spat fresh blood out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he panted, glaring at Jack. “And this time, don’t come back.”

  Jack heard every word, crystal clear.<
br />
  With some difficulty, he shrugged out of the hold on him and pitched to the side, straightening up and wiping his hand across his mouth. Pain rocketed through his body. The metallic taste of blood welled up in his mouth and he spat it out, pulling feebly at his ripped shirt. He glanced down to see blood splattering the front of it, spilling over onto the torn sleeve of his jacket. He was suddenly aware of dozens of faces staring at him.

  He searched out the only one that really mattered – Ally.

  She stood next to Maggie and Jane, tears streaming down her face as they tried to comfort her.

  I’ve just made everything worse.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, staggering away from them all.

  He ignored the stares as he made his way back to his car, shrugging off the offers of help. He fell into his car and sat there, hanging onto the steering wheel as if it would save him from all of this.

  I’m sorry Dad.

  Choking back tears of desperation, he pulled away from the curb.

  CHAPTER 5

  “A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.”

  - Mahatma Gandhi

  Maggie drove home, snatching the keys off Callum and giving him a filthy look that quickly silenced him when he tried to protest.

  Ally stared out the window, ignoring Callum’s numerous attempts at an apology. What was the point of apologising now? It was too late for that. The two goals she had for today were to say goodbye to Tom and make it through the funeral without losing her shit in front of Jack – neither of which she accomplished. She felt sick. It didn’t help that the air was so thick with tension, she could barely breathe.

  Jack looked so different. His hair was shorter and his eyes held a haunted look that scared her. It wasn’t just grief – there was something else, she was sure of it – and whatever it was, it went right to his soul. What had happened to him?