The Caged Pride

Chapter four

"I'm sorry what?", exclaimed George

"What? You didn't know?", Father Crosby took some time to process this and immediately grabbed George's hand, "I'm so sorry, let me know if there's anything else I can do for you"

"You could at least take care of the funeral proceedings... but", George could hardly get another word out.

With teary eyes, he finally composed himself and asked, "Why? What could have possibly driven her to take her own life? All her life she was a devout Christian and wanted nothing more out of life than to go to heaven. She would never..."

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that right this moment but I will say this. She missed church the last three Sundays and when I asked her about it she joked about calling in sick with Jesus"

"Well, was she sick?", George asked with tear-filled eyes

"Nothing that I could make out from the outside, that's for sure. Maybe it was one of those illnesses on the inside", remarked Father Crosby

"Are you suggesting my mother was mentally ill?", George asked as his anger began replacing tones of sorrow.

"I'm aware you just lost a parent but I will ask you to watch your tone with me. This is a place of worship. I will conduct your mother's funeral at her residence if you please and this is as a favor to our longest churchgoing member. I'm sorry again for your loss. May God be with you."

"And with you"

****

George found himself seated in the church for two more hours before he could stand up again. He was her only real family and He knew he would have to take care of the funeral arrangements. He couldn't afford to sit around and feel sorry for himself.

However, he needed answers. He hurried back to his house on foot. His house wasn't far away from the church. Nothing was far away in a small town like this. He reached his house to find two unwelcoming figures there.

Two police constables.

One of them stood right outside the door, while the other kept walking around the house. George flinched when he saw the constable step onto the daisies on the lawn, which was tended to by Helena. He walked right into the house and stared into the hallway.

He found his father sitting on the couch where he always sat and read the morning papers. There was no paper in his hand. Just a photograph and tears in his eyes. He had never seen his father cry. He hadn't seen his father a whole lot either but it felt unusual nevertheless. George didn't know how to approach his old man. He hadn't seen him in many years, since his graduation.

George approached him and took a seat on the floor across from his father. He knew if there was anyone with answers it would be his father. He gave his father a slight nod but wasn't acknowledged in return.

"Dad", George said as he shook his father's arm, gesturing to him to look up. But his father's face was buried in the photograph in his hands. George was good at reading people, a skill he acquired by interviewing people over the years in the Daily Mirror. His father was upset, that was obvious, but he sensed guilt in the mix.

"Dad, it's me George"

Nothing.

George finally got up and walked away. He didn't have any obligation to be there for a deadbeat dad who was never around for his mother or him in any way apart from a meager amount of money he made on the pasture, milking the heifers. He needed answers though.

"Why are the police here?", George asked with a firmer voice.

"The what?", Garreth Herriot finally replied as he lifted his red and teary face. Garreth was a tall man like his son. He had sharp eyes and always had a look of concentration. He was far from a happy man as far as any of his acquaintances knew.

"The constables right outside the door", replied George sternly.

He had never seen his father as afraid as in that moment. Garreth rushed out immediately into the lawn to confront the constables. George thought this was standard in every case of suicide for the police to turn up. But now he wasn't so sure that's why they were here. He couldn't manage to hear the conversation but watched one constable produce a sheet of paper. At that moment his father looked back looking all worried and made eye contact. His father came back inside and left the police waiting there on the lawn. He could make out His father was trying his best to hide his worry.

"Is everything okay?", George asked with a concerned expression.

"Yes, why wouldn't it be. Go fetch Father Crosby if you come across him. She can't lay around here all day"

George was growing tired of his father's behavior and grabbed his father by the shoulders and asked him, "Do you know why she took her own life?"

Garreth simply moved his son's hand away and gave an unconvincing, "No".

George was frustrated and couldn't stay indoors with his father much longer. He stepped out, eyeing the constables. They wouldn't return the stare and seemed occupied enough in their own thoughts. On his way back to the church incidentally, he met Father Crosby who was making his way to his mother's house. They shook hands warmly and Father Crosby expressed his condolences yet again.

"Father, would you happen to know why she killed herself? She was after all a regular at the church", inquired George.

"Well, I can't tell you that now can I? I have to abide by the confessional privilege", Father Crosby said, "I can tell you this... She hadn't come to the church in three weeks but she made a visit to my quarters to confess just the day before yesterday."

"But you had the right to speak out if you had reason to believe she would harm herself", George shot back.

"I did not have reason to believe that and I can say nothing further on this matter"

They reached the lawn and everyone began wishing Father Crosby. There wasn't a big audience. Apparently, no God-fearing person wants anything to do with a woman who took her one life. There would be no eulogies apart from the one the priest offered. Neither son nor husband had anything to say in the matter.

George came around and visited the open casket. There lay his mother's pale face. She was still as beautiful as he remembered her. Death hadn't taken that away from her yet. He found himself losing control of his emotions yet again and he was growing tired of this habit. He couldn't bear to see his mother that way. He closed his eyes and placed a gentle kiss upon Helena's forehead. Just like she used to every day before school.

The funeral was concluded swiftly and her casket closed for the final time. George couldn't watch this any further. He nearly ran out with tears in his eyes. A few people followed him to offer their support at this time. All this while, even as Helena descended into her grave, Garreth stood still there looking shocked.

The last shovel of dirt spread over her grave. The Priest concluded his prayers and the people began to disperse. But the two constables in plain clothes began to close in on Garreth. One of them pulled out a sheet of paper and announced that Garreth E Herriot was under arrest. They informed him that he was being charged with sodomy and gross indecency.

Everybody stopped in their tracks. Even the priest, who was arguably a more important figure of authority around Mossley than the police, was too stunned to move. Nobody thought to call George back into the scene. Surely he wouldn't be able to handle the two losses in such quick succession anyways.

Before anyone could get a word in with the constables, handcuffs were slapped on Garretts wrists and he walked off into the lawn where George was. A teary-eyed George looked up in complete shock and horror. He too found himself unable to move despite being the brave journalist his reputation claimed.

Garreth wouldn't make eye contact with George although he could feel his son's stare burning a hole in his head. He didn't feel shame. He didn't feel guilt. He felt nothing. He wasn't sure what was happening himself entirely. He was apparently read his rights and told he wasn't a free man anymore but couldn't recall anything about it at the moment. He was ushered into the car and was driven off before any other person present could move a muscle again.