“As do you, but it’s not going to be the same. The Trio will love you and will hold you, but they can’t ever understand completely what you and your mom are going through.”
It hit me then, the grief, and I felt awful. “But you can, can’t you. You know. You know as much as we do.”
He looked down at his hands. “This is such a shitstorm,” he said quietly.
I snorted. Truer words had never been spoken.
He didn’t look up at me when he spoke. “I know it’s going to be hard, boy. Lord knows I do. People will tell you pretty words about how Big Eddie is at peace now. That he’s with God and all the glory of heaven is shining down on him. They’ll say you should remember the good things about his life because it will help you find some measure of solace. Maybe they’re right. Maybe that’s the right way to go about it. Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do. Think about how wonderful your father was, how much he loved you. How much you loved him. Maybe that can carry you through the darkest hour. Maybe it will be enough.”
My breath hitched in my chest.
“But you know what? It may not be enough. You will be angry. You will be sad. You will think the world is crashing down around your ears and there is nothing you can do to stop it. After… after my wife died, I was lost. I was lost for such a long time. Estelle was everything to me, and I didn’t know what to do without her. There were times I would forget she was dead and I would turn to tell her something, only to have to remember it all over again. And each time I had to remember, it was just as crushing as when she first died. People told me their pretty words, gave me their sympathy, but I didn’t want to hear it. They didn’t understand that she was mine and she was gone.”
I began to weep.
“And then one day, Big Eddie came by and told me he just wanted to sit with me on the porch, and that if I wanted t
o talk, he’d be there. Otherwise, we could just sit. And that’s what he did. Day after day. Always on his break from the store. Forty minutes. Every. Day. And we didn’t talk, most of the time. We just sat and let the world go by, and I was okay with that.
“But eventually, I couldn’t take the silence anymore and began to talk, and I told him everything I was scared of. I told him everything I missed about her. I told him she was the most wonderful woman to have ever existed and how every day in the time I knew her, I still couldn’t believe she’d chosen me above everyone else. I didn’t have money. I wasn’t the most handsome. I wasn’t the funniest, or the classiest. But she still chose me, and I didn’t know why. And do you know what Big Eddie said, Benji? Do you know what he told me?”
I covered my face with my hands as I cried.
“He told me memories are like ghosts, that they will haunt you if you let them. He said it’s okay to be haunted for a time, because it’s the only way a person can grieve properly. ‘But you can’t let yourself drown in them, Abe,’ he said. ‘There is going to come a time when ghosts are all you’re going to know, and it may be too difficult to find your way back.’”
Abe got up from the chair and put his hands on my shoulders. “So you grieve, Benji. Lord knows you’re entitled to. How could you not? Big Eddie was the greatest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I have no qualms in saying that he was like a son to me. Hell, he was my son. And I hurt because of that. I hurt because he was my son. And your mother hurts because she was his wife. This whole town hurts. But you? Benji, you hurt because you lost your father. Big Eddie might have meant much to all of us, but it’s going to be hardest for you. He was more than just a father to you, I know. He was your friend. I don’t think I’ve seen a boy love his daddy as much as you loved him, and the same was true in reverse. So if there is ever a doubt in your heart, you remember this: Big Eddie loved you. He loved you, boy, because you were his. So you grieve. You grieve and let the poison out, and you remember him. But you cannot forget that memories are like ghosts, and they will drown you if you let them. That’s not what Big Eddie would have wanted from you. For you.”
I grabbed at him blindly, feeling the bones under his thin frame. “You’ll help me?” I gasped at him. “Please say you’ll help me. I can’t do this on my own.”
He put his chin on my forehead and held me close. “You have my word,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you, boy. I’ve got you.”
They leave after he’s shot Abe in the head, Christie almost looking horrified,
Griggs snapping at her and waving the gun in my direction. The sound of the gun cut off my voice, and I find I can no longer speak, or even make a single noise. My breath whistles in my throat as Griggs snarls at Christie to let him go, that he was just doing what she was no longer capable of. Did she want them to go to jail? Did she want this whole operation to get completely fucked over? She doesn’t have time to answer—her phone rings, a sharp sound completely out of place in the horror that is this shack.
“Hello? You’re on your way back? How close are you? Shit. You should have
just waited until after the goddamn storm had passed! It’s too late now. Just get here as quickly as you can.” She hangs up the phone and tells Griggs they need to finish in the caves. “Leave him here,” she says without looking at me. “We’ll deal with him later.”
Griggs glances back at me and then follows her out into the storm, switching off the light as he goes. The naked bulbs overhead go out, and the only light that remains is from the lantern on the table near the door.
I slide from the wall and lie on the ground, as much on my back as my bound hands will allow.
I don’t think I can process what has just happened. My old friend lies on the ground, mere feet from me. He’s on his stomach, his head still turned, facing me. Eyes closed, mouth slack enough to show slightly yellowed teeth. Were it not for the circular wound on his temple dribbling a small amount of blood and the fact that his arms are still secured behind his back and his legs tied together, it’d look like he is just sleeping. An awkward position, to be sure, but he could just be sleeping.
Sleep sounds good right now. I wonder what would happen if I closed my eyes. I’m tired. I think I might be done. Cal’s gone. Abe’s gone. Big Eddie’s long gone. Everything I touch gets taken from me. Everyone I love dies. It’s only a matter of time for my mother. Mary. Nina. Christie, though she’s not the same in my mind anymore. Everyone I love will be gone, and I’ll still be here, in this shack in the middle of the forest during a black storm that will cause the river below to rage. Michael said we’re all tested, that this is how we find our faith. How else could we know love unless it was taken from us? I know love. I don’t need it to be taken from me to know it. I know faith. I don’t need it to be tested in order to understand it. God and his games are beyond me now. I can’t even find the desire to pray, not that it would be heard.
Memories like ghosts. Memories like knives.
But I’m tired. So very tired. I feel my strength leaving me, and I wonder if I’m going into shock. It wouldn’t be surprising. Things have happened that are very shocking. I laugh quietly at this, my punch-drunk mind finding humor in the wordplay. The ceiling above me looks like it’ll give way any minute. Maybe the river will rise all the way up past the banks until I’m submerged in its murky waters. It’d be so easy to drown. I don’t want to see the ceiling anymore. I don’t want to see Abe’s sleeping face anymore. I just want to close my eyes.
So I do. It’s dark. I tilt my face toward the ceiling.
My father sings: “Sometimes I float along the river—”
I sing: “For to its surface I am bound.”
My father sings: “And there are times stones done fill my pockets, oh Lord—”