Cemetery Street

Suddenly a force drove me backward, flattening me against the ground. "Don't do it James," Steve's voice cried out from above. "You don't want to know."

I struggled under the weight. Suddenly, I felt myself pulled upwards, off the ground and onto my feet. Shouting, cursing and crying I struggled to free myself from the powerful grip. From faraway, I heard Steve pleading with me to calm down. The more I struggled the tighter the grip became before I was yanked off my feet and restrained against Bradigan's chest. "Relax buddy, relax," the lummox's voice coaxed. "It'll be okay."

"Put me down!" Somehow detached, I heard my pleading screams. My voice, like my thoughts seemed eerily removed - like a distant wolf's howl on a fog-laden night.

***

"You okay?" my father's voice asked.

I jumped, startled to hear his voice. My father stood inside the kitchen door, keeping a safe distance. He looked exhausted, dark rings were tattooed under bloodshot eyes. Recent developing jowls hung from his chin.

"Is it true Dad? Please, please tell me it's just a nightmare. Tell me it'll all go away."

My father shook his head. "I wish I could James. I wish I could."

I turned my back to him. I gazed at the Ortolan's house in the morning gloom. I was silly to be pissed at him, I knew he couldn't do anything about Shannie, but I couldn't help hating him for never being able to do anything about anything.

"Come over; stay with Diane and me for awhile."

"I can't." I eyed his reflection in the window. His eyes swelled as I mouthed my answer. "I'm sorry. I can't Dad. There's too much of her there. Shannie's everywhere. I can't be there now." I pretended to study the tombstones while watching my father's reflection. It approached me and placed its hand on my shoulder. I recoiled to his touch. He didn't withdraw his hand.

"You know, you're not the only one she abandoned."

I knew he meant my mother. I faced my father. His eyes met my glare. Moments passed before I blinked. "How's Diane?"

"Sedated," he sighed. "We'll see how she does later today."

"She's a strong woman," I said stupidly, wincing at my platitude.

"Yes she is. She's going to need every bit of it." He placed his hand on my shoulder again. "James. It would mean a lot to her - it would mean a lot to me, it would mean a lot to the both of us if you spent time with us now. We need each other." My father paused again. "Please?"