The Ashes of Marriage

Chapter 15

The gravel crunches under the tires as I pull up to Macedonia Baptist Church. The Church looks as if it hasn't aged a day, and the outside looks pristine. Fresh paint, fresh cut grass, and beautiful blooming flowers in all the colors of the rainbow line the sidewalk leading to the massive front stairs of the church. The perfect embodiment of a good southern Baptist church.

I'm surprised to see three other cars in the parking lot, considering it's early morning on a weekday. As I glance around the outside of the church, I don't see anyone. Everyone here must be inside.

I look over to make sure Bram is okay. I know he hasn't been to a church since his parents died. To my surprise, he seems unfazed. He has a small grin on his face and his hand on the door handle as if he is bursting with excitement.

"Are you ready, Ali?" Bram asks as he opens his car door.

"I guess..." I mumble as I slowly open the door and exit the car.

My palms feel sweaty, and I wipe my hands on my jean shorts. Bram comes around the car looking concerned.

"Do you feel up to this?" Bram asks. I roll my eyes.

"We are here Bram. I'm not turning back now." I snap. He puts his hands up and takes a step back. Honestly, I didn't mean to sound so harsh, but he's babying me, and I don't like it.

I crane my neck upward, looking at the tall trees surrounding the area and shading the entire cemetery. I'm grateful for the shade because the Georgia sun and humidity are in full swing now. We walk in the cemetery's direction and motion for Bram to follow closer.

He falls in step beside me, and I can see him glancing at me sideways, trying to stay close and keep his distance simultaneously. I can't stomach us walking on eggshells today, so I reach out and grab his hand. I feel him tense at my touch and then relax.

The leftover morning dew dampens my tennis shoes as I walk across the grass toward the cemetery. As we reach the edge of the gravesites, I pause. I am expecting a bout of Déjà vu to hit me, but I feel nothing. Nothing looks familiar. Doubt creeps into my mind. I made a mistake. Maybe the dream wasn't here, but at another church. I feel my anxiety rising and I squeeze Brams's hand.

"Okay, everything will be different Ali, remember you are working off a dream of a memory from a three-year-old. Think back to the dream and focus on one thing that would stay the same. Do you remember a headstone close by that was unique?"

I shake my head.

Bram looks around. "Okay, well, you told me Candy was leaning next to a pecan tree and most of what is surrounding us is definitely Oak. So, the pecan tree may have changed, but it's still probably the only one out here."

I relax a little. Bram is right. I walk through the cemetery on the worn paths between the graves. Some graves have moss growing on the headstones and light filters through the trees and creates a romantic, gothic atmosphere. I walk farther toward the edge of the cemetery and halt. I see a pecan tree ahead to my left. Excitement quickens my pulse. My eyes roam up the tree trunk where I see a familiar bend in the tree.

"This is the tree, which means the grave should be..." I turn to the right, and to my displeasure, multiple graves are in the vicinity. Some graves have flat headstones and I quickly dismiss them because the one in my dream was raised and shiny. I see three headstones that could be the right graves. I walk to the first one and read the headstone. The inscription reads: For a beloved grandmother and wife until we meet again. The name is not familiar to me at all. I look over at the next headstone and it's the husband of the grandmother. Behind the couple's headstone is a third headstone, similar to the first two. I read the third headstone and the last name matches the first two headstones. This must be the family's plot. I read the name again and let it marinate in my head before reading it aloud.

"Hunter Malone. God needed a friend, so he called him home. Born May 15, 1976 and Died May 15th, 1998." He died two years after I was born. I look at Bram and open my mouth, but words won't come out. I close my eyes and start doing my breathing techniques. My emotions are building, and the tears are stinging behind my eyelids.

"Sucks that he died on his birthday," Bram mumbled. I look at him with my eyes wide. Tears break free and storm down my face.

"Bram," I said slowly, "I think he's, my father."