A Land of Ash

LAST WORDS by Michael Crane

As Harold waited for his son, he looked out his window and stared at the ash covering the ground. Florida might’ve been better off than other parts of the country, but the ash was still there. A constant, grim reminder of what had just transpired only a few weeks ago. The sky appeared forever gray and showed no signs of changing whatsoever. It looked like winter in the Midwest.

A damn shame, he thought. Still, he was alive. That was what really mattered. Many had died and lost loved ones. There were parts of the country that wouldn’t recover for years to come. A tragic situation, yes, but he was still alive.

He just wished that his son Gary felt the same way.

It wasn’t because Gary was acting coldhearted. Quite the opposite. His son was devastated, but the truth was people said horrible things after a nasty breakup. You never meant the things you said in the heat of an argument. He tried to tell him that many times, but Gary seemed to think it was the end of everything as he knew it.

At least he agreed to come over and talk. He was thankful for that much.

He heard a knock at the door. It startled him, but he collected himself and he went to the door with a smile on his face.

“Glad you could make it,” he said.

His son only gave him a simple nod. He looked terrible. He hadn’t shaved in days. His face was smeared gray with ash. Even though he was wearing a long jacket, Harold noticed that his clothes were terribly wrinkled. He also smelled the scent of booze.

Not the best state to see your own son in, but it could’ve been worse. Far worse.

He let him inside and told him to make himself comfortable.

“Got any scotch?” Gary asked.

Harold held in his frown. “Um, afraid I don’t,” he lied. “Please, just have a seat.”

Gary rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He sat on the couch while Harold chose the recliner next to it.

“I can’t stay long.”

“Fine. Plans?”

“No. Just can’t stay long.”

Harold was at a loss for words. He didn’t even know where or how to begin. The fact that his son didn’t want any part of it didn’t make things easy, either, but he had to be strong. Focus, he thought. He feared for his son’s life. Dammit, he had to try something. Anything.

“Gary, you know I love you. Right?”

Again, his son rolled his eyes. “Dad, I’m not twelve.”

“That don’t mean anything. I’m just trying to tell you that I love you… and I’m worried about you, to be honest.”

“Worried about what, exactly?” Gary asked, without looking at his father.

How could he possibly explain to his son everything he was feeling without coming off as one of those dreadful TV dads that everybody made fun of? That was his biggest fear. To come off as insincere or rehearsed. If he did, he’d lose him. Gary wouldn’t listen to a damn word he had to say. He had to be very careful, while at the same time, make it so he understood the seriousness of the situation.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping much,” he started. “Since after… you know.”

Gary grunted.

“I mean, I know how awful it is,” Harold said while leaning forward a little. “And I’m truly sorry that it happened, but you know… you had no control or say over it. You know what I mean?”

Gary rubbed his nose and gave a few snorts. “Yeah, well I doubt I’m the only one not sleeping lately, dad. It ain’t just me. A lot of people died.”

“Yes, and I understand that. But you and me… we’re alive. That has to count for something, right?”

Gary chuckled and shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what this is all about. If this is some sort of I-hope-you-don’t-off-yourself speech, you can save it. All right? I’m fine. Just having a hard time accepting what happened to Janet.”

“Yes. I understand. Completely. But you had no part in her death.”

Gary leaned forward and put his face in his hands. He gave out an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t know,” he said into his hands. “I told her moving to California wasn’t a good idea.” He took his face away from his hands and patted down his legs. “I did. I told her, ‘Don’t go there. Nothing good will come of it.’ I didn’t know…”

“Nobody did. That’s the point. Nobody knew that things were going to turn out like this. That’s the way life is, Gary. You can’t expect or prepare for everything. You can only act accordingly to whatever is thrown your way.”

Gary leaned into the sofa, his eyes watching the ceiling. He blew some air out and scratched his chin. “I was bitter, Dad. I was really fucking bitter when she left me.”

Harold didn’t normally like it when his son cursed, even if he was thirty. However, he let it go. Just the fact that he was even talking about it was a victory of sorts.

“Son, I think just about everybody gets bitter after a breakup.”

“Yeah, but that don’t excuse it, you know? I said some awful, awful things. And now? I can’t take ’em back.” He looked at his father. “You have any idea what a terrible feeling that is? Not being able to say you’re sorry to somebody? Not being able to call that person up and say, ‘Hey, I was an asshole. I was a goddamned sonofabitch, and I’m sorry.’” He paused. “I was real thick-headed. I immediately put blame on her when she called it off between us.”

The fact that his son was holding onto so much guilt broke his poor, old heart. What could he possibly say to comfort him? What could anybody say? Here was a man distraught over irrevocable last words. How did you take that weight off someone’s shoulders, regardless of whether it belonged there in the first place?

“You’re not to blame. Not for that.”

Gary got up and began pacing the room.

“See, that’s what everybody says to me. Why blame yourself, Gary? You didn’t cause it. How do you know? Huh? We never really know the true power of our words until it’s too late. If a wife tells her husband that she hopes he dies of a heart-attack and it actually comes to pass, did she cause that? Who’s to say?”

“When was this?” Harold asked.

Gary groaned and rubbed his temples. “It didn’t happen, Dad. I’m trying to make a point here. That’s all. I said something awful to Janet. Those were my last words to her. And now, I’ve got to live with it somehow.” He rubbed harder and let out another groan.

“You will get past this, Son. I promise, you will.”

A sigh came out of Gary. He looked at his father while he remained standing. “You remember when I was in Third Grade and I nearly choked on some hard candy?”

He nodded. “I believe so.”

“I thought I was going to die. Scariest thing in the world when you’re that little. Eventually, I coughed it up and was all right, but my whole class freaked out.” He paused and licked the corner of his mouth. “I never told you the whole story. What happened was that I did terrible on a test. The teacher passed out candy to those who did well, and one of my friends got one. This kid, Jake. Don’t know if you remember him. Not sure I had him over all that much… but that’s beside the point. Anyway, when I saw Jake got one, I bugged the hell out of him to let me have it. When he told me no, I threw a goddamned hissy-fit. Finally, he just threw it my way and said, ‘Fine.’”

“Okay.”

“But you know what he said as I put it in my mouth? And I swear to God, I’ll never forget this. Under his breath, he said, ‘I hope you choke on it.’ I swear, Jake said those exact words. I shit you not.” He looked towards one of the windows and curled his lips. “He didn’t mean it, of course. I know that much… but damn if it didn’t happen…”

“People don’t have that kind of power. Things don’t happen just because you wish it. Good, or bad. That’s not the way life works.”

Gary looked at his father. “Perhaps, but I don’t know. All I know is I was freaked out by it. And Jake? He took it hard. Wouldn’t speak to anybody for a week. He was convinced he was to blame. He asked me if it was his fault one day, and you know what? I didn’t have an honest answer for him. I didn’t know.” He looked out the window again.

“It’s getting colder, you know. It’s freezing out there.” He folded his arms and shivered. “So unreal.” He shrugged and shook his head. “Whatever. I have to get going.” He started walking towards the door.

Harold quickly got up and followed after his son. There was something that didn’t fit. Something that Gary was holding onto and hadn’t yet revealed.

“Wait.”

Gary stopped and faced him.

“You’re not telling me the whole story.”

“What? The candy episode?” He chuckled. “Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t more truthful about that when I was a kid. I was afraid you’d get sore at me for failing a test…”

“No. I’m talking about Janet.”

Gary’s face grew tight and he gave a nervous cough.

“You told me you were angry at her for leaving you, and that you told her you hated her the last time you two spoke. After she moved to California.”

Gary looked down at the floor and was quiet for a moment. A great deal of pain spread across his face, just like a little boy not wanting to admit that he got sent to the principal’s office. Harold knew this look very well. It was obvious he had one last thing to say.

“Why would saying that you hated her end her life?” Harold asked. “How would that cause any of this?”

He finally looked at his father in the eyes.

“I didn’t tell her I hated her.” He rubbed the back of his neck while letting out another sigh. “The last time I spoke to her was a couple of months ago. Just shortly after she moved. I begged her to take me back. Was practically on my goddamn knees. I told her I would do right by her if she gave me another chance.”

He chuckled, and the pain in his eyes frightened Harold.

“She wanted no part of it. I exploded and lost my temper. I started shouting.”

“What did you say?”

Another pause. “You really want to know?”

“It’s important, son.”

He was still silent for another moment. He threw his hands into his pockets and kicked at his feet. Without looking at him, he said, “I told her I hoped she died.” He looked at his father and nodded. “That’s exactly what I said to her. And now, I have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Harold couldn’t speak. In that very moment, he wanted to break down in tears. He wanted to say something to his son—hell, maybe even hug him and never let go—but before he could, Gary was out the door.