Grief

A Short Story

By

R. H. Duffy

1.

I awake from my recurring nightmare sweat covered and breathing heavily. I glance over at the bedside clock. It reads 05:36.

As I throw my legs over the side of the bed I feel the icy sweat run down my neck and back. With the images all to fresh in my mind I make my way towards the bathroom.

Why is it so many people say after they have a bad dream the cant remember any details of it. I think to myself, why cant that me? Why must I remember every minuet detail?

But I know the answer to this self asked question. I remember because it happened.

Standing on the pink thick pile carpet I look at my unshaven face in the bathroom mirror. Splashing the warm water onto my face I realise its not only sweat I'm washing away. The bloodshot eyes are a familiar reminder of the tears that always accompany the sweat.

After shaving and showering I head back into the bedroom and dress for work. Looking over at the clock again I smile. Early for work again. That's one of the few things that make me smile these days.

Since the accident I have never been late for work. Before I was always late.

"John, your always running at the last minute" Cassie used to tell me.

As my eyes caress her photo on my bedside cabinet my smile fades.

Downstairs I quickly drink my coffee and head out the door. The street is almost empty at this early hour. On the other side of the road Raymond the postman throws me a friendly wave but I don't respond. My thoughts are elsewhere.

I know I'm going to be early again but I just want to get far away from the house and all the painful memories that lie within.

2.

Adam Stewart is known as 'The Early Man'. A small plump jolly man of 56 years he is first to clock in and always well groomed and immaculately dressed.

The old office manager use to say he was a "fine advert for ScotFix".

Adam takes great joy in telling people that he has worked for the company since the year dot.

A while back he took a few months off to travel the world after his elderly aunt died and left him some money in her will, but he's been back at work a while now.

He started back about the same time I returned to work after the accident.

"How's you this morning mate?" Adam asks as I clock in.

"I'm fine Adam. One of these days I'm gonna beat you in here" I respond without any humour.

"Yea right. You going for a beer after work today?"

Trying to sound convincing I reply "Not today mate, I have a very busy night ahead after work. Maybe tomorrow."

As he removes his glasses and cleans them with a tissue, I see in his eyes he knows that I'm lying, but he doesn't push the issue.

I've never spoken to Adam about what happened but I'm sure he has heard all about it from the other office staff.

Changing the subject I ask "Who else is in the office with us today?"

"Just the two of us again I'm afraid. But its quiet. We'll manage no problem."

Shaking my head "I suppose we'll just have to."

My day at the office passes in the usual manner, in a haze.

My mind always running over events of the past, thinking how I could have averted them.

I think to myself, after work I'll go and see Father Murphy.

He seems to be the only person I feel comfortable talking with these days.

3.

After work I make my way to St Catherine's Chapel. Pausing in front of the large black iron gates I stare up at the path leading to the entrance.

I cant feel the sweat start to develop on my forehead and neck.

I know I'll be fine once I'm inside but trying to force myself forward to walk up the path is the difficult part.

Feebly, I attempt to push the memories to the back of my mind and, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I begin the long walk up the path towards the large wooden doors.

Once inside I see Father Murphy sitting in the front pew, almost as if he's waiting for me.

"Good afternoon Father."

"Ah, good afternoon John. How are you today?" he asks turning me.

Father Murphy is not what you might expect a priest to look like. About 42 years old, standing over 6'3" with short blond hair, goatee beard and a frame of at least 18 stone.

He has these piercing blue eyes that make you feel as if he can see into your very sole.

He only took over at St Catherine's a few months ago but I can still remember our first meeting. I thought he looked more like a member of a heavy rock band than a man of the cloth.

But when he spoke he had this soft, calming voice that sounded like it didn't belong to the body it came from.

Sitting down beside him, head in my hands, "Not very good Father, not very good at all. I had another dream last night."

"About the crash again?"

I run my fingers through my sweat moistened hair, "Yes, but the dreams seem to be getting worse rather than subsiding like you said they would. They are changing as well. Last night I dreamt I was walking through woods. It's weird, I just don't understand it."

I feel his huge hand rest on my shoulder, "John, your torturing yourself with these dreams and only you can stop them. As I've told you before, once you have accepted that there was nothing you could have done only then you can expect the dreams to subside. You must stop blaming yourself. You have to accept that it was a tragic accident and move on with your life. Cassie and Glen have moved onto a better place and they would both want you to move on with your life."

He rests both hands on his knees and inhales a deep breath, "Maybe your dreams changing are a sign, maybe you should try harder to change as well. You understand John?"

His calming voice almost hypnotizes me into believing him.

Looking him in the eye for the first time since sitting down, "I'm trying Father, but everywhere I look a see reminders of the life I once had, its just so hard."

Tears welling up in my eyes, "Its just so hard."

"Of course its hard, you lost you wife and only son."

Pleading to him I ask, "Then tell me Father, how can I move on after this?"

"John, the advice I give you today is the same as the advice as yesterday and the same as it will be every day to come to see me. You must keep your faith and dig deep within yourself to find peace. I can only help you so much, the rest is up to you. But you have my word that I will help you in any way I can.

You know my door is always open. You know where to find me and where to find God."

I stand and shake his hand, thanking him for listening to me again. Turning I make my way up the aisle towards the exit.

The cloud outside must have cleared a little to allow the sun to shine through the stained glass. The rays casting every colour of the rainbow into the beautiful building. As I glance upwards the eyes of the figures in the stained glass windows seem to follow my every step as I walk to the doors and out into the warm spring evening.

4.

Sitting in my lounge with the TV on I pick at the microwave dinner I have prepared for myself. After several minutes moving the food around the plate I lay my fork on the tray and place it to one side.

Picking up my large vodka and soda and turn my attention to the TV.

The newsreader is talking in a serious tone about how the enquiry into an air crash is progressing.

"Eight months after Fly Mexico flight 257 crashed on take off at Benito Juarez International killing all 88 passengers we now appear to be nearing the end of the air crash investigation.

In an announcement today Andrew Liston, chairman on the investigation team, revealed that the airline had not properly maintained 21 year old Boeing 737 and, as a result, the left engine had malfunctioned during take off. He also stated that even if this had not happened the whole aircraft was a "disaster waiting to happen". All 737's the airline have in it's fleet have been grounded until further notice.

The announce today brings closure to the many family and friends of who lost loved ones in the tragedy.

In sport, Manchester United today unveiled their new singing...................."

The TV falls silent as I click the red off button on the remote.

I tell myself that I must take Father Murphy's advise and, as he put it, search for my peace.

For my closure.

After showering I lie in bed and play the nightly game of how long I can stay awake.

How long can I keep the bad dreams away.

I'm not even aware after a few minutes that my eyes begin to slowly close revealing only the darkness of sleep.

5.

The dream starts as most dreams do. It's like watching a movie.

Watching YOURSELF in a movie.

I'm sitting in the car in the driveway waiting for Cassie.

"Come on Cass, we're gonna be late." I call from the open drivers window.

"Oh, and you're a fine one to talk about being late, Mr Punctual." She shouts back hurrying down the path.

"Don't listen to your Mother Glen. Women are always late. It's all that time they take putting on their war paint."

I look back at him via the rear view mirror, sitting in his car seat. He's looking out of the back window and smiling. Not a care in the world.

As I drive towards the restaurant Cassie and I talk about everyday things. Holidays, work, money, and of course my favourite subject.

OUR favourite subject, Glen.

How he will be 4 next month. What to do for his birthday. How it seems just like yesterday that I was picking them up from hospital and taking them home.

We are both so deep in conversation that neither of us see the lorry jack-knife.

Then everything starts to happen in slow motion.

I try to put my foot on the brake pedal but shoe feels as heavy as lead.

The HGV has now come to a halt, its sitting over both lanes ahead.

I know I will never stop the car in time. It seems I have all the time in the world to look over at my Cassie and turn to see Glen in the back but still my foot will not move to the brake any faster.

As I finally feel the rubber of the brake pedal under my shoe I realise its too late.

The brakes lock and the smoke pours from the tires as the car hurtles forwards.

I look over at Cassie and see the fear rising in her eyes.

But worse, much worse, I turn to see the smiling face of Glen, completely unaware of what is about to happen.

The car ploughs into the side of the truck.

Both Cassie and Glen are killed instantly.

As I lie there trapped I attempt to call out to my family but my mouth opens in a silent scream. Nothing comes out.

My eyes are stinging from the smoke and fumes that pour from the crumpled mass that was once our family car.

I can smell petrol, burning rubber and.......blood.

Oh God , the smell of the blood...................................

All quiet. Not a sound and total darkness.

Then I hear a bird chirping and the smells from the crash are gone.

I can smell.....................what can I smell?

I open my eyes and I'm walking through woods. Beautiful sunshine is splitting the trees and I can hear a river flowing somewhere nearby.

The sweet smell of pine fills my nose and I feel different. At ease. Almost at peace.

I walk deeper into the woods until I come to a small clearing.

Then a noise. An unusual noise.............................

6.

The alarm clock sounds on my bedside cabinet. The beeping waking me from my deep dream. I'm sweating but somehow I feel different. More settled.

As I look over at the alarm clock I see I have over slept.

Hurrying to the bathroom I shower, shave and brush my teeth before throwing on my clothes and busting out the door to work.

It's not until the door lock clicks shut behind me that I realise I'm smiling.

As I rush down the street I hear Raymond the postman call from the other side of the road "Hiya John, beautiful day again."

"Hi Ray, how you keeping? I heard you were a bit under the weather."

His big smile says it all as he answers, "Never better, never better."

7.

Adam grins at me as I clock in, "So you'll beat me into work one day will you? Yea, right"

"Ok, ok, so I'm late this morning. Like you've never been late in your life!"

"Spot on John, I've never been late, not one day in over 17 years" he replies with a mischievous glance at me over his spectacles.

My day at work seems a little surreal. For the first time in a very long time Adam and I chat and laugh throughout the day.

With Adam recounting stories of his time travelling the world and me telling tales of great times spent with my family, the day passes fast.

"So, you gonna come for a beer after work today?" Adam asks as we walk together and prepare to clock out.

"Sorry mate, I have an appointment with someone."

Adam frowns, "Cant it wait?"

"Nope, but I have a feeling I might just take you up on that offer tomorrow" I respond with a wry smile.

The look on Adams face tell me he know exactly what I mean.

8.

The Chapel gardens look amazing with all the flowers in bloom. The grass surrounding the flowerbeds is cut to perfection. It looks almost like a bowling green.

I'm half way up the path towards the Chapel door before I realise I'm not sweating.

And to my amazement, I'm smiling.

Entering the huge building I see Father Murphy sitting in his usual spot. Front pew, third seat in to the right.

He turns to greet me, "Ah, John. I've been expecting you"

"You've been expecting me?" I reply, sounding more then a little puzzled .

"Yes John, I've been expecting to see you walk in with that look. I've been waiting a very long time to see that look in your eyes. Take a seat. Lets talk."

9.

"So I don't need to ask if your feeling better. You a bit more settled today?" asks Father Murphy.

Looking him right in the eye I reply, "Yes Father, I had the same dream last night but I tried to analyse it and understand it. Push myself into understanding the dreams and how to cope with the madness that's happened over the past few months. Now, thanks to you, I think I have done just that."

I continue on, the words pouring out of me, unable to stop even if I wanted to. "Yes, I have lost my family but it wasn't my fault. It wouldn't have matter what I had done, I could not have stopped the car in time. I know this because I loved them both so much and if I could have done any more, I would have.

But knowing all this I now know I must live my life in the knowledge that they are in a better place and, one day, we will all be together again."

At that moment Father Murphy through back his head and laughed.

Shock and disbelief consume me.

Is this man mad? Has he been listening to me?

I find myself confused and unable to respond but after a brief silence he asks, "And what about the woods John? What about the woods in your dreams?"

With all the thoughts rushing through me I had forgotten all about the woods.

"I don't know, just one dream overlapping another I suppose."

"No John, there's a little more to it than that. Try and relax and let me help you find the final piece of this puzzle."

10.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to think very hard before answering, ok?"

A little bemused I accept, "Ok, fire away."

"How long have you been working with Adam at ScotFix?" asks the Priest.

"I don't have to think to hard for that one, 8 years. But what's that got to do with anything?" I answer.

"Just try and bear with me. How long was Adam away travelling?"

Still looking confused, "About 4 months"

"And when did he return to work?"

"Just after I went back to work after the accident, a few months ago now."

I am aware of the Priest examining me with those piercing eyes, "John, it was 8 months ago. Can you recall the last place he visited before coming home?"

"Sure I can, he was talking about it just a few hours ago. He loved Mexico, talked about it for........................................."

Father Murphy smiles at me as he sees the memories flooding back.

My lips seem to freeze and I can feel bile rising in my throat.

Memories returning to my mind like a large crowd surging through a small doorway.

My mind is at full capacity trying to process them all at once.

I close my eyes and that seems to help. I little.

Passenger list of Fly Mexico flight 257. Passenger number 68, Adam Stewart.

Obituary in local newspaper reads, 'Raymond Gordon, loving husband of Linda and much loved father of 3. Will also be missed by all his friends and colleagues at Gillburn Post Office.'

My mind is racing, engulfed the unimaginable. I open my eyes and ask, "Am I...........................?" the final work left unspoken.

As he smiles at me he answers, "Yes."

"I'm dead? I died in the crash as well? Why am I not with my family? Where are my family?" my voice is shaky, vocal chords trembling.

"Your doing great John. Your almost there. Just a little further and all this will be over."

He extends his hands out to mine and, as we join hands, I close my eyes for the last time.

11.

I see myself sitting in a hospital waiting room. Cut and bruised but alive.

A doctor with a grim look on his face approaches me. I can't hear what he says but I don't need to. I already know.

I witness a man sitting there, head in hands and shaking with grief.

A man whose world has just fallen apart.

Who is alive and well but whose life is already over. Me.

The picture fades to grey then I'm sitting alone in my lounge, pouring over photo albums and watching family videos. The tears running like a river down my white, tortured face.

Again the image starts to fade and reappears with me walking through the woods.

I'm carrying something but I cant see what it is.

As I enter the clearing so familiar from my dreams a finally see what I'm carrying.

Rope. A long piece of rope that I recognise from my shed at home.

I have seen enough and don't want to see any more, but I cant switch it off.

My eyes are already closed.

I witness it all.

I climb up the tree and tie the rope to a large solid looking branch.

I'm amazed how calm I appear as I place the noose around my neck.

I see my body fall forward and hear a loud crack as the rope jerks.

As I watch my lifeless body hanging there I hear the birds singing and the river flowing close by.

But it's the crack that is still ringing in my ears.

A light breeze blows through the clearing and catches my swaying corpse, turning it towards me.

I can now see my face in death.

I'm smiling.

12.

My eyes flick open and I look at Father Murphy, "You knew all this and you didn't tell me. Why?"

"I couldn't tell you John. I'm not allowed. Even I have rules I must obey. People like you must find your own way. I gave you all the help I could.

"You have spent a very long time in your hell John but now its over. You have safely passes over to the other side."

With a wry grin he adds, "Oh and John, you can quit with the Father Murphy. Here everyone just calls me Boss!"

As I stand up I notice him looking over my shoulder.

On turning I see the previously empty seats are now completely filled.

The huge Chapel now full of deceased family and friends.

No words are necessary for me to know there are all there to welcome me at the end of my final journey.

As I see the large wooden doors start to swing open I'm already running up the aisle towards the two figures that are entering.

Rushing past Adam he shouts, "Welcome home mate, going for a beer tonight?"

Raymond slaps me on the back but my attention never waivers from the two silhouettes standing in the doorway.

As I hold Cassie tight I look into her eyes and say, "I've missed you so much sweetheart"

Then, kneeling down, I embrace Glen. As we pull apart I look at the cheeky face I have longed to see.

Then he says the two words that I thought I would never hear again.

"Hiya Daddy"

It was at that precise moment that I realised that even in death, you can weep tears of joy.

THE END