Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 44: The Question

I pull into the parking space, take my keys, and get out of the car. I look out into the ocean and feel the breeze hit my face. There's a little time left before the sun sets. Like usual for this time of day, it's full. I start walking, stopping only when I feel far enough to be alone with my thoughts. I turn off my phone and sit in the sand. The sky is a blend of orange and purple and pinks. All different shades. The sight is beyond words. I start talking.

"You don't have to listen to me. Why would you? Maybe I'm not a faithful follower. Maybe I have more doubts than I should, and I question too many things. But I believe you can do amazing things, you have to, right? Isn't that your job? I am hurting so much...and I don't know how to make it stop. I need you to show me I will be okay. I need to know that Gabriel will be okay too. I don't know how we're supposed to go on. I just know that we have to. Please help me. I can't do this by myself. I don't have that kind of strength. Please help me-us survive this."

I turn to the left. In the distance I make out a figure I recognize. Gabriel doesn't say anything until he's just a few feet away.

"Since when do you run here?" I ask.

"I've had too much energy lately. The gym alone doesn't cut it anymore," he answers.

"I see," I comment.

"Mind if I ...?" he points to the spot next to me. I shake my head. He sits leaving a couple feet in between.

"Thanks for coming. I wasn't sure if you would," I say.

"Me neither," he replies.

"I didn't get to ask earlier, with rushing you out and all but how are you?" I wonder.

He laughs then looks over to me. It's a real genuine laugh. Like what I asked was in fact funny.

"I'm sorry," he says, " but only you would make this abuot me. I'm fine."

"Are you? Really?" I question.

He looks out into the water, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's okay to not be. You know considering."

"You would say that. How about you? Enraged? Relieved?" he asks.

"Neither of those quite cover it," I reply.

"Figures. It's never simple with you," he responds.

"How's your family?" I ask.

"They're missing someone that doesn't deserve their tears. I should tell them-"

"What difference does it make?" I ask.

"It makes a difference," he answers.

"Does it?" I wonder.

He just stares at me.

"When is the funeral?" I ask.

"Weekend. Not that it matters. I'm not going," he replies.

"Why not?" I ask.

"A funeral is for you to pay your respects. Say goodbye. I'm not doing either one of those," he tells me.

"He's your cousin," I remind him.

"No, he isn't," he states, "he stopped being that the second he put his hands on you."

I sigh, "I think I want to."

"What? Why?" he wonders.

"I doubt I could even begin to answer that," I reply.

"It probably won't even be here. Home most likely," he says.

"That's not a problem," I respond.

I look down at my hands in the sand, then stop, "I have to know this is over. I need to see it for myself."

"I don't," he says.

"Would you go if... if I asked you to?"

"Why would you do that?" he asks.

"Would you?" I repeat.