We sat silent for a while, just looking at each other. Tracing the history of our stories from our faces as if the word misery had been plastered on us for the world to see. We did this for a while, until we were interrupted by the two kids from the meadow as they dashed into the living room full of energy. They had grown tired of playing, and waited anxiously for supper to be done.
“I’m hungry, Momma,” one of them said.
“Yeah, me too,” said the other.
Their mother, however, did not take their interruptions too kindly. “Where the hell are ya’lls manners? Can’t ya’ll see there’s company here! Supper will be ready in a minute. Now get! And let Momma finish talking.”
“Okay, Momma,” said the little girl. She left as instructed.
The little boy, however, just stood there in a stance of defiance.
“Boy, did you just hear what I said! NOW GET! DO YOU NEED A WHOOPIN’? WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?”
The little boy pouted in a manner that could not have been contrived. “When is Papa coming home?”
She paused for a moment. For such a simple question, on the surface, it seemed so daunting for her to answer. My guess is, she didn’t know the answer herself. Maybe she asked herself the exact same question every time she braved the night alone.
“Go play with your sister, honey. We’ll talk about this later,” she said solemnly.
“Okay, Momma.” He hurried into the next room.
I felt compelled to say something because I too had lost a father. I’d lost him a long time ago, way before he died. Even though he was who he was, I still missed him. I still loved him. So I knew it hurt. “He’ll find a way to heal when he’s older,” I said.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“I’m so glad you’re here. You have given us some hope.”
“I have?”
“Yes! Because you’re gonna be his pathway home.”
“I will?”
“Yes. I believe you will.”
Right there, I understood why the sheriff brought me here. It wasn’t to help me or CJ. It was merely to shatter everything I believed to be true. She had no new information about this case. She wasn’t just kin to him. She was much more than that. I should’ve known. Just by all those happy photos of them that sat in various places around the house. She was his wife and those were his children. All those stories about the majestic love he had for my sister had been proven to be a lie.
All I remember next is rushing back to the car frantically as the blood in my veins surely boiled over. I opened the car door and slammed it violently. Hollis didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. My face told him all he needed to know. His gleeful look told me the same. He and the rest of this town had won. I was defeated. In the process, I had been fooled by a man who murdered my beloved sister and dared to make me revere his name in the process. Everything I thought I knew had been tarnished. The only thing I was sure about was that my sister would not be the only person to shed blood in that town. There would be, without a doubt, vengeance.
“What did you do?” the priest interjects.
Daniel begins to bawl in the confessional once again. “I’m so sorry, Father! I’m so sorry.”
“Did you kill him? Your sister’s murderer?”
“No.”
“What then?”
Daniels words become a bit inaudible as he whimpers. “I don...don’t ev...ever remember going in there. It wa...was like I...I woke up and I-I was at...their door holding th-this thing that ...that I knew was dangerous. But I-I just couldn’t put it down.”
“Who did you hurt?”
“I just wanted to make him feel the pain I felt. When that little boy opened the door, all I saw was his father’s face. They had the same eyes.”
“Did you...did you hurt him?”
“Oh my God.” Daniel grows more and more distraught. But the priest digs further.
“Daniel. D-id you hurt that little boy?”
He continues to whimper.
“Did you kill him?!”
“He looked so much like his father. Why did he have to look like him?”
“Daniel! Did you kill him?!”
“I did! Father, I did.”
“And the little girl?”
“Yes.”
“And their mother as well?”
“I didn’t see myself pull the trigger. All I saw was them hitting the floor. I would have left then, but there was someone else.”
“Who?”
“Someone in the other room. A baby.”
“What did you do?”
“I put the gun to his head as well.”
“You did what?”
“I pointed the gun at him.”
“You shot him? You shot a baby!”
“No, Father. I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t? Why is that?”
“I thought he might have been a sign from God.”
“Just like the kids you killed,” the priest says.
“Huh?”
“You thought they were a sign from God too. Didn’t you?”
“Maybe He came and went.”
After a brief silence, Daniel wipes his face dry of tears and continues with his confession. “After then, time went the same way it did in that dream, slow but fast. Soon, it was day of summation. His execution. The clock showed 11:55 a.m. We were told that the execution would take place at 12:15 p.m.—exactly twenty minutes away.”
My mother, however, couldn’t stand to see the death of another, not even him. So we sat at the dining room table, haunted by the arduous silence because it only allowed me to think. My mind wandered. I saw Caroline in an apparition, lost on this road, tormented and alone. Somehow, some way, she made her way back home, within arm’s reach of me. But when she touched me, I couldn’t feel her. And when she screamed for me, I couldn’t hear her. I just kept walking, until she finally gave in and became alone again.
“You okay, Danny?” asked Mr. Gaines as he sat consoling my mother. She was a nervous wreck. Truth be told, I was sort of happy he was there. She seemed a bit more content when he was around.
“I’m alright. Just need to get some fresh air,” I replied. “May I be excused, Mom?”
“Go ahead, son.”
She struggled to even say that. It was as if it pained her to speak. Maybe it was all those prayers she spoke to Him. She had prayed that He would lead us to the place where she was buried. Now her mind had been thrust into a flurry bad demons. All the sweetness that came to fruition while I was gone, fermented. Soon it became acidic. Now her soul burns from the inside. Hard to live in her own skin.
Think of all those prayers and it never even happened. It made me wonder if she ever spoke to Him. And if she did, did He tell her she was special? Did He promise her things? Was He gorgeous? Did He touch her in a place that made her a feel a love that not even the sun could burn away?
“You sure you’re all right?” asked Mr. Gaines.
“Yeah...Yeah. I’m all right.”
“Okay. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He was becoming somewhat of a father figure. At least that’s how he saw himself. I guess he thought I needed that. Maybe I did. Though I’d rejected him at first, I was finally starting to see his goodness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Darknesse Not Overcometh