Ill-Gotten Memories

11. Save Me

Memories were a beautiful thing when your mind gave you access to them. My earliest ones were the most valuable, but over time, age had tainted their integrity. Some were even hidden away, never to be recovered. Those of my father. There was a deep longing inside me to remember what it was like before he was gone....

He had an incredible voice, that I do remember. He was taken from us when I was nine years old in a violent robbery at his grocery store. Now, thirty-some years later, it was easy to forget the way he said certain things, and the way he sang songs to me. He loved to sing though, and would often hum to himself while he stocked the shelves or counted the till. I didn't always understand their meaning... but having witnessed the dead speak under a pale moonlight, a memory returned.

It struck me as soon as she walked off, like a parting gift. I was standing there bewildered by our encounter, when a song filled my ears, forming the bridge between past and present.

"Oh precious is the flow,
That makes me white as snow
No other fount I know
Nothing but the blood of Jesus...."

Why I would not only remember those lyrics so distinctly, but also hear them in my father's voice, was nothing short of a miracle.

I was riding the elevator up to Cesare's penthouse, holding back tears. They would not soon be shed, because I had to be a man and compose myself—as any rock-solid Giacchino would. But coupled with my father's memory, and the message from my visitor, I was weak.

Maybe it was a long time coming? The emotions I had repressed all these years were bubbling up inside me like a stew. I couldn't understand why God would want to forgive me after I'd failed Him so miserably and walked over His commandments. Or worse, His life-saving blood.

Sinning was what I did best. I was so good at it that they paid me handsomely for it... and I didn't know how to stop.

"Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered."

Those words would not concede though, remaining a victor over my rebuttals. As I leaned into the verse, I sensed a new man emerge, because not once in my life had I ever experienced a comfort so soothing. The scripture hugged my soul, wrapping me in its cloak. I was warm in my chest at the thought of its meaning, yet I wanted to weep.

"I love you, Johnathan," whispered the Savior, but not to my ears, nor with words. Somehow, I heard Him deep within my chest, imparting His essence in a spiritual language only we could understand. It didn't make sense, but God was talking to me, and I was listening. "You are my son and you always have been. Give me your heart so I can make it whole."

Burying my face in my hand, tears began to fall; I couldn't stop them.

"I'm sorry God... please save me."

In an instant, shadows that lurked behind me died in the light God was pulling me into; its warmth pooled on my skin and filled every avenue of my being. His all-consuming love sewed my wounds and closed them. Suddenly, the ache in my chest began to wane, and I felt whole again. Complete, wanted, and accepted.

Finally, I was saved. I didn't have to be this cruel shell of a man anymore, Giacchino or not.

I was saved.

***

Thank you for reading this far! If you enjoyed, please hit the star button as it would make my day! I thought I would go ahead and upload this now since I have a super busy schedule this week and am unsure of how much writing I will get done, if any. But I'm VERY excited for the next couple of chapters as Barbara and Johnathan meet again. I also want to do another flashback. Thank you for reading. And I know there are a lot of heavy religious themes in the book, this chapter in particular. I'd understand if ya'll weren't interested in Christian content but this is where I want to take the book, so if that's upsetting, sorry.