forKING&COUNTRY: Shoulders

Shoulders: Part Eight

      Joel stood in the garage, his fingers clamped woodenly around the keys. The car. How did I forget about the car? He clasped his hands over his head and tried to swallow his panic. "Relax, Joel. You can handle this." But it's hers, a pained voice whimpered plaintively in his mind.

      He stood, frozen to the floor. "Is this okay?" He mouthed hoarsely, tears catching in his throat. He looked up at the ceiling. "Do you mind, love? Just one time?" Just one visit, and I'll never go anywhere again. Ever. This is hard enough.

      He climbed into the driver's seat cautiously; Moriah's scent soothed and disturbed him simultaneously. He closed his eyes to steady himself. I miss you so much, love. "So, so much." He said aloud, his vision blurring with more unshed tears.

      A photograph was tucked into a seam in the dashboard; he fumbled blindly with one hand and tried to wipe his eyes to see it. As the picture came into focus, he groaned and put a hand to his mouth, sobs wracking his shoulders.

      He remembered the day the picture was taken.

      "Hold on, hold on, let's take a selfie," he giggled, drunk on laughter and the teenage-giddiness that rose in his chest whenever Moriah was close. And she was so, so close right now, practically crushed to his chest as he hugged her tightly.

      She laughed and shook her head, her dark ponytail whipping about her shoulders. "No, let's not." She said. She tried to pull away but he kept his arm around her. "Joel! Let go!" She laughed again and smacked his chest lightly.

      "Just one picture--" He snatched the ponytail holder from her hair, planted a kiss on her cheek, and thumbed the camera button on his phone before she could protest any more.

      "Hey!" She grabbed him by his shirt and tried to force her lips into a frown; her failure only made him want to take a thousand more photos. She caught the longing in his eyes and rewarded him with a long, slow kiss...

      He dropped the phone in the sand, his nerves ablaze with her touch...

      Joel crushed the picture to his chest and wept.

      Backing out of the garage was the hardest thing he'd done since he'd let the paramedics take him home from the plane crash without Moriah's body in custody. He could barely see the road through his tears, couldn't keep his mind firmly in place as he swerved back and forth over the pavement. She's gone she's gone she's gone

      He woke up with a scream, the safety straps digging into his shoulders. He wiped the rain from his face and looked around the plane confusedly. "Hello?" His voice sounded thick in his ears; he touched a finger to one and found blood streaming into his beard. "He..." A wave of dizziness made him clasp his head in his hands. "He...llo? Mor...iah?" He reached a hand blindly to the seat beside him, expecting warm fingers to close around his. None did.

      Scattered images flashed through his mind, blurred strangely: the pilot's head sagging limply, lighting forks against the plane windows, Moriah's fingertips just out of reach--

      "No." Could she have...he remembered a scream that faded almost instantly from hearing..."No!"

      "No!" He screamed, his hands jerking the steering wheel instinctively. Moriah's SUV lurched from the road and cut deep grooves into the shoulder's overgrown weeds before he could step on the brake. He sat in stunned silence for a moment, his heart in his throat. His mind had blanked from sheer terror.

      His heartbeat's bitter reminder brought his pain back into focus: she's gone she's gone she's gone

      He let his head fall against the steering wheel, his hands clutching at the dash uselessly, sobs shaking his entire body. "I'm sorry, Luke," he moaned. "I can't do this. I just can't."

      He turned Moriah's car around and headed for the cemetery. Moriah's body might not be there, but maybe her spirit would...

      He couldn't even finish the thought.