Radioman (A 2/19th Spinoff) - Complete

Udder Balm and Candle Light

Stupid stupid stupid went through my mind as I jumped from the car. I left the door open as I ran at the front door, throwing it open and coming in ready for mayhem. My muscles were trembling and my stomach clenched at what I would find.

Please don't have killed him, I thought to myself.

I wasn't afraid for Aine.

Instead of blood spray and half-eaten flesh, instead of massive wargs or worse, Aine sat at the table with the one she had threatened to slit the throat of. She was holding his hands as he sobbed, his head down, his face hidden by greasy hair. She looked at me and gave me a sad smile, but the sparkle in her eyes said more than anything else.

"You are home, my Paul," She said softly. She nodded toward the man holding her hands and crying, "Nelson Brubaker was telling me about his life, and I was consoling him in his pain."

I stopped, and knew I was staring.

"He is in pain, Paul Foster," She told me, "Having never come to grips with his father Donovan's death at the mill when he was a child, after he had spoken as an angry child to the man who meant so much to him."

"I... I said... I said I hated him," the man, no, Nelson, sobbed, squeezing Aine's hands. "I said... I said I wished he would.. would.. would die."

The man's agony was real, twisted up inside of him, and I knew that any plans he had been thinking of carrying through against Aine were long forgotten.

"I'm going to get the groceries and stuff," I said lamely. The other man's pain made me uncomfortable.

"You were angry, and a child," Aine said gently, "You did not kill him, Nelson Brubaker, and he would not want you, his only child, his beloved son, to punish himself over his death."

I carried in the bags, and the two wooden boxes, setting them down on the counters that bracketed the stove.

Behind me the junky that had had Aine hold her iron atheme against his throat sobbed his heart out and confessed all of his sins to Aine, weeping as he did so. I stood uncomfortably at the counter, smoking cigarettes, watching and listening as Aine molded a man she had utterly destroyed before I had managed to get home.

"Your mother, Charlene, misses you, and often worries about you, Nelson," Aine said gently, standing up. Nelson looked up at her, his face red and splotchy from crying, nodding as he followed her gentle tug and stood to his feet.

"Go and see her," Aine said gently, leading him to the door, "She will want to go to the church with you and pray," She stopped  by the door, putting one hand on the side of his face, "She will listen to your fears, Nelson Brubaker, and her heart will be moved by your honest pain, and like all mothers everywhere, Charlene Brubaker will do her best to comfort and heal her child."

Aine opened the door, motioning at the outside, "Go forth, Nelson Brubaker, confess to your mother, and poison your body and mind no more," her voice was stern at the last part, and I had to suppress a laugh at the comparison between her and a priest.

"I will, Hannah," He said. He wiped his face. "Are you sure she still loves me?"

Aine smiled at the man she had destroyed, that she had only left behind only a hurt and injured child. "Yes, Nelson, she prays for you nightly."

"I'll go right now," he said. He turned and hurried through the rain to his car.

The door shut and Aine sagged slightly beside the door. I moved up and gathered her into my arms, hugging her tightly.

"He came with a pistol, my Paul," she said softly. "It took everything I had not to fall on him, to tear at him with my teeth and fingers, for profaning my home with his presence and the threat of violence."