The road to the church felt different than it had just the day before. It was bright and clear without a cloud in the sky and the sun was dazzling, casting down rays of light on the winding road through the gaps between the trees. When we passed the spot where I wrecked the Mustang, I gawked at the skid marks, burned yellow and black, across the face of the mountain. Glass and bits of metal still lay scattered along the shoulder.
“What happened to the statue? They’re not going to put it back up on the ledge?” I asked.
“No, thank goodness,” Sulley said. “I guess they hauled it off with the car. Good riddance. That thing was creepy as hell. Never did find out what nut job got it up there to begin with.”
“That thing saved my life yesterday.”
Sulley smiled. “Well then, I guess it served its purpose.”
I looked out the window and contemplated. Purpose. I was sure that whoever put the statue on that ledge had done it with a different purpose in mind. Still, without it, I would have died. Of that I was certain. If only I could be certain of what else had happened yesterday. The conversation with Donovan seemed as real as the crash, so why couldn’t I accept him as truth?
I tried to remember the details of our conversation. He had been with me since my baptism, since I was a child. I remembered knowing that he was with me. I could even conjure up scattered images and conversations. But why couldn’t I remember him over the last decade or more? Why was it so hard to believe as whole-heartedly as I had when I was a kid?
It was like trying to remember how it felt to earnestly believe in Santa Clause or the tooth fairy. I had been so sure that all of those things existed. As a child, it’s easier to accept the impossible as reality. Only Donovan was different, because I knew that faith in God determined whether or not he was possible, that he was real – which made him all the harder to accept. To accept him as reality was to accept that there was indeed a loving God in the heavens, and not only that, but a God who cared enough about me to send one of his angels to protect me. That was the hard part to accept, especially when the last decade and a half seemed to prove the exact opposite.
Great train of thought to have at church, I thought as we pulled up the driveway. It was bustling with people, some of which I recognized. Sulley parked the truck and we walked the stone walkway to Gram and Nadine, who were seated on one of the marble benches beside the main entrance. Gram chatted away with Evelyn who stood beside her decked out in a leopard print jacket and scarlet heels. They smiled and waved to us as we approached.
“Gram,” I said and stooped to embrace the small woman.
She wrapped her feeble arms around me and patted my back. “It’s so nice to see you again Tina. You look lovely, Dear.”
I stood and looked to Nadine and Evelyn and whispered, “She still thinks I’m Mom.”
“But she’s feeling quite well today,” Evelyn smiled.
“I’m sorry Kiddo,” Sulley mouthed and gently brushed the hair from my forehead.
Gram noticed the now purple knot on my head.
“My goodness Child, what have you done to yourself?” She said studying the lump.
“Oh just a little accident Gram, nothing to worry about,” I assured.
“Why don’t we get a seat before it fills up,” Sulley suggested motioning us inside.
Gram and Evelyn followed Sulley inside and Nadine turned to me with a grin and grabbed my hand.
“It’s so good to see you again Alexandra.”
“You too Nadine,” I said. “How is Gram doing?”
She gave my hand a pat as we followed Gram inside.
“Well, she’s been in and out for a couple of days now. Seems she’s more gone than with us nowadays.” She glanced at Sulley and sighed. “It’s to be expected.”
I looked around at the inside of the church and smiled as I admired the arched ceiling and oval windows. The pews, the walls, and the altar were all crafted out of the same golden oak. Everything was as I remembered, down to the simple silver chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling. The church was small, but spectacular and filled with glowing warmth.
I sat between Gram and Nadine and mentally prepared myself to take on the role of my mother for the day. Sulley had said it was best to go with it, so I would. But I longed for the old Gram, the one I could talk to about anything. I needed her right now. Glancing over, the small, frail woman looked expectantly around at the people as they filed into their seats. She looked like the old Gram, only weakened, as if her essence were being drained from her a little with each passing day. She looked lost, trapped inside herself.
“Oh look, there’s little Ricky. My, he looks all grown up,” Gram suddenly declared.
I followed her gaze and saw Rick Brightman coming down the aisle of the church looking for a seat. I turned to Gram.
“You mean Rick, the contractor? You know him Gram?”
“Of course I do, and so do you silly. The poor dear.” She sighed. “Shame what happened to that family. Just a shame.”
Sulley bent forward from where he sat on the other side of Gram. He looked as confused as I was.
“I think you’re confusing him with someone else Mom,” he said. “Mr. Brightman is from out of town.”
Gram shook her head and scowled. “I most certainly am not. That is Ricky Brightman. Don’t you remember Dear?” She turned to me. “You bought the house from his poor mother.”
I looked to Sulley for help, clueless. I didn’t know anything about who Mom had bought the house from. Sulley had been there to help with the purchase. He stared at Gram for a minute searching his memory.
“You mean Mallory Blackwell’s son? Wrong last name Mom, though I do think his name was Ricky.”
Gram shook her head, frustrated. “Ricky was from her first marriage, remember? HIS name is Brightman. I never forget a name or a face,” she chuckled.
Sulley and I exchanged knowing glances. He thought for a minute and then nodded.
“You know what? You’re right Mom. I don’t know why I didn’t put that together before.” He scratched his head. “It’s strange that he wouldn’t have said anything. I wonder why.”
I watched Rick find a seat across the aisle. As I recalled our conversation on the plane, I wondered the same thing.
“I bet he just didn’t want to bring up those bad memories. It looks to have aged him quite a bit. He was just a teenager to too long ago,” Gram said and the organ began to play the first hymn.
I stood when the congregation stood and sang when they sang, but I was just going through the motions. My mind kept wandering back to Rick. What had happened to his family? Had Mom really bought the house from his mother? Why in the world would he not mention any of this during our conversation? He had made it seem as though he were just a visitor passing through.
During the sermon my mind shifted to thoughts of the previous night. To Donovan. Why couldn’t I see him this morning? He said he would be here . . . didn’t he? I still had so many questions. What if I had imagined him?
I must have been staring in a daze, lost in my thoughts for a while. I was brought back by a waving hand from across the pews. Rick smiled to me from the other side of the church and laughed silently when I finally blinked and responded with a nod. I directed my attention back to the front where Pastor James was passionately delivering his message.
“Sometimes God pushes us to the very edge of our faith, to the end of our limits before he offers His deliverance,” he was saying. “He wants more than anything for you to reach for Him in times of need.”
What did it mean to be pushed to the edge of your faith? I thought. Did allowing my parents to be killed by a madman right in front of me qualify as pushing me to my limits? If that was the case, I wanted nothing to do with it. My mother had been a woman of tremendous faith. Where was her deliverance?
I felt anger welling up to the surface and I shifted in my seat in a vain attempt to quell the urge to leave. I conjured Donovan’s image in my mind. It was all I could th
ink to do. “You must believe,” he had said.
“If we cry out to God he will hear our prayers, for we are never truly alone. He never leaves our side no matter what circumstances you face. And sometimes, He answers our prayers in ways we may never have imagined,” Pastor James continued from the pulpit, and when I looked up, it seemed as if he were looking directly at me.
I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I grabbed a Bible from the pew in front of me and opened it to a random page and pretended to read it. My mind was whirling, thoughts swishing back and forth like delicates in the rinse cycle. I was agitated by Pastor James’ words about faith and the things that Donovan had said to me last night. “You must believe.”
Nadine smiled and leaned over to me. “Excellent sermon, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes. He is a great pastor,” I said trying to be polite.
Nadine looked down at the Bible opened haphazardly on my lap. She gave her finger a lick, then gave the pages a quick flip.
“I think that passage is more what you are looking for, ” she whispered and then turned her attention back to the sermon.
I looked down at my lap and saw that she had flipped the Bible to Psalms 91. Curious, I started to read. My heart quickened when I got to lines 11 and 12.
“For He will command his angels concerning you; to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”
I snapped my head up and looked at Nadine. A slow smile spread across her lips and she nodded, still looking forward.
“Yep, that’s my favorite part too.”
“But . . . how . . .?” I began to ask but was interrupted by Pastor James calling the congregation to rise and sing the last hymn.
I stood and reluctantly sang the familiar hymn with the rest of the congregation, all the while sneaking looks at Nadine who sang loud and proud beside me. When the hymn was over, the congregation was dismissed and began to file out of the pews with waves of greeting and handshakes. I followed Evelyn, Sulley and Gram out the front doors where Gram stopped to chat with a neighbor. Nadine went with her and I tore my gaze away from her to look around for Rick. I was hoping to have a word with him before he left, but I couldn’t find him in the crowd assembled in front of the church.
I scanned the parking lot and spotted him climbing inside of a small, white pick-up truck. I had seen that truck before. It was the same one that flew past me on the street when I went for my walk to the station. I was sure of it. But if it had been him, why not stop and say hi?
Before I could think about it for too long, Sulley called me over to where he was talking to a group of smiling faces. I recognized some, but none by name. He introduced me and we exchanged the usual pleasantries and when the conversation turned to my mother, I was again reminded of just how much I looked like her. The mention of her name made me ache to go visit her grave once again. When the opportunity presented itself, I excused myself and made for the back of the church.
When Sulley turned back to the group, I knew I had only a few minutes. I had barely reached the grounds of the cemetery when I heard Nadine call my name. I turned to see her arm in arm with Gram, walking up to meet me.
“I think it would be a great idea if you took Gram for a walk out there with you,” Nadine suggested with an encouraging smile.
I shook my head and glared knowingly at Nadine. Gram couldn’t see Mom and Gary’s graves. Not while she still thought I was Mom.
“I don’t know if a walk is such a good idea.”
Gram brightened at the suggestion.
“Oh a walk would be wonderful, Dear. The grounds are so lovely this time of year. You’re not spooked by a little ole’ cemetery are you now?” She grabbed my arm and started walking.
I looked back to Nadine in a panic. “No, I’m just worried that you might see . . . something, eh ... upsetting.”
Nadine waved me on encouragingly and took a seat on the cement bench beside the stone entryway. I trusted her, she was with Gram every day. She wouldn’t let something bad happen to her, would she?
I was growing more and more nervous as we entered the cemetery. How could I walk Gram to Mom’s grave? And then to see Gary, her dead son’s resting place. Wouldn’t it be cruel to let her see his grave when she was currently stuck in a past where he still lived? Gram was commenting on the fall colors and the well kempt lawn while I groped for the answer.
“What do I do? What do I do?” I cried out in my mind as we got closer and closer to the plots.
The answer came in a deep, melodious voice, came from just beside me.
“Go,” it said.
I stifled a gasp and looked wide-eyed around me. Donovan! But there was no sign of him, only the scrutinizing eyes of Gram who eyed me suspiciously.
“What is it girl? The spooks getting ya?” She chuckled and patted my arm for comfort. “There’s nothing to be afraid of Tina, it’s just a resting place for those we’ve lost. Nothing to fear here.”
I took a deep breath and feigned a smile. She hadn’t heard his voice. Of course she hadn’t.
“You’re right. I guess I get a little jumpy,” I said.
Donovan was here with me. That thought gave me comfort and the courage to do what he said I should do. Looking back to see Sulley still engaged in conversation, his back to me, I steered Gram towards Mom and Gary’s plots.
“There is something I would like to show you Gram,” I said guiding her to the far corner of the grounds, by the eastern fence.
We stopped in front of the white lilies still scattered atop Mom’s grave. I motioned to it, my hand shaking.
“I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, but my name is not Tina. Tina was my mother . . . and you helped me bury her here.” I said as tenderly as I could.
I watched Gram, my breath caught in my throat, and waited for her reaction.
“But that can’t be . . . you just bought the house. And Sullivan . . .”
Gram paused and stared into space as if she were watching images play through her mind. I could tell that she was trying to make sense of them and I waited, breathless, to see what I had done. With a sudden gasp she looked to the grave and then back up to me. A single tear ran down her cheek.
“Alexandra?” she whispered.
My breath rushed out in a sob and my eyes welled with tears as Gram looked at me for the first time with admiring recognition. I nodded yes as she cupped my cheek in her hand and took in every inch of my face.
“I’ve missed you so much Gram,” I cried, unable to hold back the tears.
“Oh my baby. Alexandra, Honey!” Gram gasped with joy and grabbed me up into her arms and cradled me there as I sobbed against her shoulder.
“I love you so much baby girl. I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s happened to my mind,” she said. “I . . . I just get so confused . . .”
“I know Gram, it’s not your fault,” I sniffed.
Gram held me out at arm’s length in order to get a good look at me.
“Gram has missed you something awful! Good God in heaven, you’re all grown up now, and so beautiful. You look just like . . .” Gram trailed off and then stiffened.
I looked into Gram’s face, which was frozen in contemplation. I watched as her blank stare turned to a mask of fear and panic. She grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me square in the eyes.
“Listen to me now Alexandra,” she whispered urgently. “You can’t trust him. It’s all a lie! He wants you to trust him. He was there that night, all those years ago. You have to leave this place and never look back.”
I twisted in Gram’s tight grip, her fingers dug into my arms.
“What are you talking about Gram? Who was here?” My palms began to sweat as her words registered. “Do you know who killed Mom and Gary?”
Gram dropped her grip. The intensity of her face twisted into an expression of confusion and panic. She looked around her as if she were unsure of where she was.
/> “Gary? Something’s happened to Gary?” She cried and moved around me. “What are you talking about Tina?”
I caught the sob that rose up into my throat and forced it back down. She was gone. Lost again to an ocean of misplaced memories. I wiped at the tears which stained my eyes and cheeks and reached for Gram in order to lead her out of the cemetery. But it was too late. Gram had already seen Gary’s headstone.
“My boy? What happened to my boy?” she screamed collapsing to the ground.
I bent down to her, trying to calm her, but I didn’t know what to say. I tried to coax her into leaving with me, but she sat staring at the gravestone in a state of shock and grief.
“What happened to my boy?” she shouted over and over.
I looked helplessly towards the church and was relieved to see Sulley running towards us, Nadine close on his heels. When Sulley reached us, he stooped down to his mother and held her by the shoulders, whispering into her ear. Gram reluctantly stood and put her arms around him and allowed him to lead her away.
“Oh Sullivan, what happened? Why?”
“Sssshhhh, it’s okay Mom. It’s okay,” he whispered.
When they passed me he turned to look at me as Nadine reached me and put her arm around my shoulders.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he hissed.
“She . . . she remembered me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry . . .” I said and burst into fresh tears against Nadine’s arms as he led Gram away.