Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
He sighed in exasperation.
When you stop speakin’ about your pain, sometimes you forget that it even hurts. Problem is, now something is pickin’ at the scab… and I’m troubled about what’s underneath…
Chapter Four
It hadn’t hit him until that moment.
The sorrow. The heavy, smothering joy-stealing melancholy that came from losing a loved one. Caspian prided himself on being in control of his emotions. He was not prone to hysteria, and found it awkward at times when he didn’t feel sadness or excitement the way others did around him in life. Sure, he’d learned to fake it. He’d learned to go through the motions when necessary, so as to not seem like a complete lunatic.
Something had changed in him as a child. A switch was tripped within him. He recalled feeling deeply one moment, then not feeling anything at all the next. He chewed on his lip and glared at Aunt Angel’s overturned pile of soil.
It came as no surprise to him that the church had been packed with people that morning, and now, at the burial, these people gathered around her final resting place, crying and wailing between solemn prayers and flowery words from the pastor. It wasn’t long before Aunt Angel’s bronze casket was lowered into the ground, and the sobbing went from drizzling to an all-out storm.
That was just when it hit him. When the hidden, tucked away shit inside began falling apart. She’d been the glue that kept him from completely losing his mind. The one who sustained him, kept him somewhat on point. On code.
He turned to Aunt Angel’s husband and took a deep breath. Uncle Bobby was inconsolable. Standing there in his nice navy-blue suit and dated tie, the man with thinning blond and gray hair was red in the face, his body trembling. After all, his wife of over thirty years was in the ground. At one point, Uncle Bobby had to sit down and now, he was on his knees, weeping like a baby as his companion, partner in life, was lowered into the cold ground. It wasn’t long before the service was over, and folks began to disperse. He found himself just standing there. Awkward. Lost.
He, Noah, and Uncle Bobby were once again wrapped in the family’s, friends’ and stranger’s arms. Kisses on cheeks from old women with strong perfume and words of encouragement were shared—words that were nice to say, perhaps nice to hear, but held no weight. They were empty. Promises with no chance of return. People always said things like, ‘call me anytime’ or ‘call me when you need me,’ but they didn’t mean it. No one wanted to be contacted about dead Aunt Angel at three in the fucking morning. Say it anyway though—it was just the thing to do. He’d learned to do it, too. To lie to make bad situations feel a bit better. But did lies help? Not really. Axel and English drew closer, and his friend embraced him.
“Caspian, we’re all gonna miss her. I’m glad she stepped in to be your mother. ’Cause of her moving here to Portland with you ’nd Noah, we got to meet you. Get close to you. Be brothers. You’re one of my best friends in this whole world, and I hate to see ya hurtin’ like this.” Axel’s eyes sheened. “We were all blessed to know ’er.”
Caspian nodded, folding his hands and sorting his thoughts. English wrapped her arms around him too, pulling him in for a hug. Feeling the woman’s heart beating against his chest, he returned her gesture of comfort. She was warm, soft and loving.
“I didn’t know your Aunt Angel, but from everything Axel, Legend, and you told me about her, as well as all the great stories shared about her at the memorial, I feel like I do.”
“Yeah, she had that effect on people.”
They conversed a while longer, then when they left, he headed to his rental car. Legend stopped him on the way for a hug. He remembered when they were young kids, wrestling and playing around, Legend had been a thin little thing. Now, the man was an inch taller than him, and definitely weighed more. Legend patted him on the back.
“You gonna be okay, man? Not right now, not tomorrow, but eventually, you’ll be okay.”
“Yeah… thanks. I know,” he said. “I saw Desiree at the funeral, but not here. Was she not feelin’ well?”
“Apparently, Jews think it’s bad luck for pregnant women to come to graveyards. Her mama is kinda superstitious and used to be a Hebrew Israelite back like in the eighties for a few years. She said she don’t follow that doctrine no more, but she still believes some thangs in the Tanakh, and asked her to not come. We drove in separate cars.”
He smirked at that, then slipped his hands in his pants. “Hey, who knows?” Caspian shrugged. “Maybe it’s true.”