“Perhaps we could simply grab something to go?”
Not long after,Becky sat quietly in the car, holding their lunches while Kelldrove into a place he was most familiar with.
“Oh, I see…” she said thoughtfully, realizing the reason behindhis current mood. She didn’t even have to ask to come to theobvious conclusion. When he finally parked the car, she followedhim with their lunches in hand to a nearby bench. While it was coldout, it was a sunny day and as luck would have it, the bench wassitting directly in its rays.
“This okay?” he asked, handing her a cup of coffee while heaccepted the foil wrapped sandwich.
“Yes, of course, it is,” she said, taking a sip of coffee andthen a bite of her sandwich.
While acemetery wasn’t quite the place she would’ve chosen for a picnic,she had a feeling this particular experience went beyond the usualfascination that Goths had with cemeteries. This particular Gothhad his own reasons for being here and she could only hope he wouldfinally let her into the mystery that was Kell Keele.
They atequietly until they were both done. Each of them lost in thought yetfully aware of each other, and of the monumental moment to come.After they were done, Kell grabbed the remnants of their lunch anddiscarded into a nearby trash bin.
Sitting therealone, sipping her coffee, Becky finally zoned in on the impressiveheadstone facing the bench. She’d been so preoccupied with herthoughts that whilst she’d been aware of the multitude ofheadstones around her, she hadn’t actually read the names untilnow.
“Not exactly the way I would have wanted to introduce you to myfamily,” Kell said, sitting down next to her.
“Kelley…” Becky instinctively placed a hand over his. Shestudied the impressive ornate headstone, crowned by a beautifullydetailed Gothic stone angel. When she turned her eyes to Kelley,she winced at the pain so evident on his normally stoic features. Asingle tear trailed down his right cheek. The sight of it broughtforth a few of her own. This was the first time she’d ever seen himcry.
“Becky Sparks, meet my father, James Keele, my mother Evelyn,sister Rachel, brother Mark,” he said with a hitch in hisvoice.
Not knowingquite how to handle this situation, Becky did her best to remaincomposed in the wake of his uncharacteristic show of emotions. Shehad a feeling, though, that she needed to remain quiet at thistime. He needed her to simply be with him.
After a fewemotionally charged moments of watching the man she loved, struggleto keep from breaking down, he finally continued. “Becky… I broughtyou here so you would better understand me.”
She nodded,taking hold of his big warm hand and giving it a supportivesqueeze. Having had a moment to look around, she had observed thebeautiful wreath of holly propped up by the Keele family headstone.She noticed it was rather new in comparison to the others nearby.As far as she was aware, Kelley was all that was left of hisfamily. Who would have placed it there? Then suddenly it became alltoo clear.
“How often do you come here?” she asked, realizing the truth.“Or… when were you here last?”
“Last week. Before Christmas.” After a couple of deep breaths,he continued, “Becky, before you came into my life, I was hereonce, twice a week.”
“You mean you drove here and back to Kingston once or twice aweek?”
“Sometimes even three times.”
“But it’s a 3-hour drive each way,” she saidpensively.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” He took another deep breath and staredoff into the distance. “When this first happened, I used to comeevery day. I’d spend hours, just sitting here.”
“I’m sorry, Kelley,” she said unable to hold back hersympathetic tears. “It must have been awful, what you wentthrough.”
“I blamed myself, you see,” he said, steeling himself. Heneeded to get this out. While his instincts were screaming for himto take Becky into his arms, he realized he simply had to getthrough this first.
“But none of it was your fault. You were just a kid, really.You did nothing wrong.”
“Becky, I know that… now. But it took a long time before Iactually started to understand it. You see, before you came along Iwas just merely existing. The reason I moved out to Kingston in thefirst place was to distance myself from this cemetery, from thememories, the guilt. I realized at a certain point that I would gocrazy if I stayed here so close to them. I’d only end up cominghere, sitting here, scaring the groundskeepers with my constantpresence. One old guy even offered me a job here because he feltsorry for me.”
“Aww…”
“Please don’t do that,” he said with a furrow to his brow. Thelast thing he wanted was pity. If he allowed it, she’d turn himinto a blubbering heap of misery.
“I’m sorry, go on,” she said, reining in heremotions.
“Becky, it got so bad that some days I would show up here atdawn and sit here until dusk or until they’d kick me out. I don’treally know why I felt the need to be here all the time. I supposeI felt I was serving some kind of penance.”
“Penance for what, though?”
“For surviving,” he stressed. “Why was I allowed to live? Whenthey all had to die?”
“Survivor’s guilt,” she said quietly. “Kelley, have you talkedto anyone about this?” He held up his finger to quietly silenceher. “Sorry, continue.”
“Please, just let me explain. This is so very hard to talkabout.”
“Of course, go on.”
“I decided it would be best if I moved away. Kingston seemed alogical choice because the university is there. It’s far enoughaway so that I wouldn’t be able to come here every day, yet closeenough if I should feel the need. Which turned out to be quiteoften. I was hoping the distance would help but it didn’treally.
“So, this is where you would come. All those times youdisappeared from the House of Goths.”
“Yes.”
“That night when my granny died… you didn’t run off to anightclub. You came here, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“God, Kelley,” she said with a sigh. “That must have
