Reed stood there watching, as Kierra’s pain grew into raging tears. Nothing he thought of saying could make it even a tiny bit easier. He felt he’d experienced every kind of pain. Nothing could be unbearable after losing his whole world in just one night, all those years ago… but now his cheeks tingled. Tears he could handle, but such devastation… he thought he’d taken every possible measure against it.
Kierra’s penetrating screams reminded him of his own. He’d ripped away her trust. Through all the bad decisions, he’d have to care for that girl. He’d have to replay what he’d done, every time he looked at her sweet, innocent face. There was nothing to do now, except wait for a good time. A good time? No, a better time… maybe… no.
He’d made the sky wide, the walls thin, the road long and the time… never.
The ground beneath his quivering legs felt non-existent. Only when he fell to his knees and sensed the heavy need to beg, with tears flowing like a river, could he feel it. “Please. I didn’t—” his sniffle interrupted. “No. Please. Sweet girl, what have I done? Please forgive me.”
“No!” The child roared.
She glared and imposed even after he’d slunk back. It sent a new wave of guilt through the squirming mass in his brain. Everywhere he looked, nothing helped with what he couldn’t undo and what would erupt in the future.
Even though he cried harder and harder, every miniscule furling of that grimace made it clear that she hated him.
For now, walking out the front and locking the door behind him was the only way he knew to keep her safe. The outside, with all of that space and air, had all the moments he didn’t have, reminders of why he became what he was. He could go to church, and beg some more there, but the service was over, and there wasn’t much time before they’d find him. Suddenly, the scene felt small. It was just him, all alone, under those heavy clouds, sweating profusely through his arm pits.
He plonked on the scene’s doorstep and researched for something — the name, Larry (the girl’s father), and his profession being the only details he had. In some stroke of — it felt wrong to use that word — he found a testimony. Then, in another bit of — for fuck’s sake! — he found a colleague’s address, having endured a website full of spotless preachers; the ones who simplified struggles on the verge of criminal histories; the ones who promised to heal, but never delivered.
What had gotten into him? In the past, he’d walked away. Walking away was part of staying focused. Whatever he did, it served a role. This time, it served no role, but this time, he didn’t mean to do it.
Once he reached the house, which was only a few painful blocks over, the person he’d come to see was unmistakable: sparkling with enthusiasm, something only a bible thumper could express in this world. Problem was, he was just getting into his car.
“Mr. Braun?” said Reed.
“Yes.”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Not really. Actually… I’m sorry. I’m not sure if I know who you are?” Even in suspicion, the man was kind. Whatever was that like?
“My name is Reed. I have bad news. Larry is seriously hurt.”
The sparkle left instantly.
For the child, Reed had to get through this.
“Is he okay?” asked Braun. The man turned off his car and got out.
Reed took a step back, scratching the tarmac, when he needed to be quiet. “I’ll tell you everything. But I need to… I’m looking for closure and I’d like to talk about Larry, if that’s okay with you? Just real quick.”
“Okay. He’s a good man… a great man, actually. Whatever you need.”
Of course, every time he hurt someone, they were an angel.
“Great. I read in a pamphlet that … well, you know. You didn’t go to preacher-school or whatever,” Reed faltered, feeling his lips slide like they’d never done before.
“People had been less than kind growing up. I never imagined I’d speak to one and learn so much about myself and my potential. After Larry helped me, he became my friend. We didn’t become colleagues until I was ready – in mind and soul.”
Sounds about right. Not knowing how to control himself, Reed fought his expression, counting on Braun to keep going.
“He’s a great guy. He had a rough childhood too: parents who didn’t really understand him; well, and he had other freak issues.”
“Freak issues?” Maybe he could still get off the hook for this.
“That’s how he put it.”
“Yeah… but what were they?”
“You know, he saw things. Heard things—“
“What things?”
“I’m sorry. He didn’t mention specifics… so, um… What’s your relationship with him, again?”
“We’re close. Very close.”
It was true. They were bound together – though, in extremely unusual ways.
“And you don’t know about his childhood?”
“… it never came up… I suppose he didn’t like to talk about that part…”
“So, is he okay or what?”
“You know, Braun, I guess what I’m really looking for is advice. Larry was always fantastic at that. I guess I’m hoping that since he helped you turn your life around, that you could give me something here… something I can use.”
“What happened?”
The man was asking. Reed couldn’t hold it in. They’d find him. If by some miracle they didn’t, he’d just fuck up again. His tears sprang out before he’d even made a decision, and his hand wasn’t enough to hide his face.
“I’m sorry… are you okay?”
“I hurt him, Braun. I hurt him bad. It’s a fucking mess and I can’t take it back. I wish I could. I’d give anything… but I can’t… I think I might have… I didn’t mean to but… I think… so fast… then he just…”
Braun clenched his fist. The priest was about to hit Reed. Hard too; and Reed was a coward, so he closed his eyes. He didn’t even try to duck… He hoped the punch would kill him. It wouldn’t come close to justice – a great man in exchange for a little shit like him – but it’d have to do.
But, then, Reed only felt a hand on his shoulder. It comforted him: that simple touch. He looked up to see how easy it was to give someone the love they needed. How it could come from just about anyone.
“I won’t say that it’s okay, or that you’ll be alright. Instead, I’ll leave you with some advice from Larry that really helped me.”
Against the crushing expanse, Reed looked up fully at the priest.
“Yeah, I’ll be leaving you. I’m not sure it’s the right thing, but I have to pick my kid up from school. I will say this: Larry isn’t the kind of guy who’d take any pleasure in haunting someone. In fact, he’d hate it, especially if it were someone who’d died for him.”
I forgive you.
Did he really say it, or did Reed need to think it? Those words had come from Larry too, not long after their violent confrontation.
“Now for the advice.”
But it wasn’t done to Keira! Braun’s advice had better leave out God! It was done to Larry, and even that without meaning to!
Braun climbed in the car and got ready to drive off. He started the engine.
Trying to make him stay, Reed wondered why his body wouldn’t stand up straight just once.
But then Braun turned around. “The best way to accept something is to stop trying to fight it…you need to realize that it will be with you forever. And the only way to really deal with something is to accept it.”
If the guy could have slammed that door a little softer, Reed might have been able to think a little better. But, soon enough, the rumbling engine fell quiet, and dust was the only thing that made any noise. Walking aimlessly to the sound of sirens, Reed thought he sensed a small piece of soul still left to work with.
A final gulp down his closing throat that didn’t have to end like that cloud above his head.
Roy Editing and Critique 