Will caught her before she collapsed inertly to the gravel below. Arms cradling her now, he hoisted her upright, pulled her head close to him, and held her while she cried and rattled John’s name over and over from the tip of her tongue.
“I…didn’t know him.” Fischer spoke up, himself now showing signs of breaking down. “I didn’t know any of them, but I’m sorry, too, Lauren. I’m very sorry for your loss. This has been a bad day for all of us.”
Lauren didn’t respond; she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t see through the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t breathe over the aching in her chest or the expanding mucus in her sinuses. She couldn’t speak over the soreness and swelling in her throat. She felt cold, alone, and miles from herself. None of this was real—it couldn’t be real. It was a future that never could have come to pass; and it was far too much for her to bear.
Several grueling, sniveling minutes went by, and Lauren pulled away from Will. She wiped her nose and eyes, unblurring her view of the recently departed. “I…I need to go over there,” she said, voice ensnared in anguish. “I need to see them.”
Will pled with her again. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You don’t understand…I don’t have a choice. I have to say goodbye to them, Will. You have to let me tell them goodbye.” Lauren bit into her trembling lip. “The whole time Dad was gone, Norman…he took care of us. He was a father to me. And John…he…I…” She choked up and dissolved into tears again.
Will’s eyes watered along with hers. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Lauren’s emotions were impassioned and penetrating, such that they diffused into his own. “I know, you told me. I know how you feel about him. And I’m not going to stand in your way and hold you back from doing what you feel you need to do. It’s not my job to decide what’s best for you, or for them.” A pause. “I’ll let you pass; we’ll turn a blind eye to this. But only on one condition.”
Lauren rubbed her eyes and looked expectantly at him.
“Don’t move the sheets, Lauren. Not even an inch,” said Will. “There isn’t anything there worth seeing. And you don’t want a nightmare like that haunting you the rest of your life, and it will do that, believe me. Remember them the way they were, not as they are now. Remember their voices. Remember Norman’s smile, the way John used to look…and the way he used to look at you, before today. Before this. Can you do that?”
Lauren nodded her head solemnly, sending along a look of gratitude that conveyed the sentiment clearer than words ever could. She felt Will’s grip loosen beneath her arms, then slid away from him in slow, cautious movements as if entranced in a world alien to her, her feet as heavy as anvils as they dragged the ground every step of the way.
Memories of the times she’d spent with John, the times he’d protected her, every doting expression he had ever sent, the warmth of his hand on hers, the feeling of every kiss he’d willed to her lips came to mind, but when she arrived, the reverie was over and the realness took root.
Lauren walked past each form, gauging their shapes. The sheets covering the burnt hideousness of them were smeared with earth, the blackness of carbon, and sprinkles of debris. John had always been skinny and lanky compared to his father, who’d borne a muscular frame and a few extra pounds around his waist. Norman was also a few inches shorter, and that was how Lauren could tell the difference between them, enshrouded now beneath layers of worn fiber.
She knelt beside John’s body and ran her index finger along his chest, shuddering at traces of two familiar divots in his central sternum. Her uncertainty removed, Lauren took a breath and let it out slowly, feeling her chest sting and rattle. Even now, she wanted so badly to feel close to him just one last time. Kicking out her legs, she lay down on her side inches away and tried willing away all the distasteful odors permeating the air, as awful as they were. She began to imagine what he must look like beneath the cloak, which now seemed to mummify him, and then surrendered to her tears again.
Lauren cried herself into shivers and a spell of dry coughs accompanied by damp sniffles. She wanted so badly to make up for all the wrongs and for her and John to be together again, but his life was over now; none of it mattered anymore. Before long, an interlude came, and she forced away her tears long enough to speak to him, hoping and praying that somehow he was looking upon her now from above. If nothing else, she needed John to know she was with him, and to hear every word she was about to say.
Lauren suppressed her heartache as best she could and said, “John? I’m…here. I’m with you. I…hope you’re okay. I hope this happened fast for you and that you didn’t suffer. I think you’ve done enough of that. God knows I caused you enough pain on my own, but I pray you didn’t feel any today. I hope this happened so quickly that none of you knew what happened…but more than that, I really wish it hadn’t happened at all! I want to go back and erase this whole day…start over and make all of this go away!” She paused, sniffling. “I never saw myself here right now. I never thought you would be…I never thought I’d see the day when you were just…gone. And now…you are. I was wrong, John, in so many ways, and I’m so sorry for everything I did, but I’m even more sorry that I never got a chance to tell you. Now I have to live with this…regret and knowing
