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It was a beautiful September morning. The sun was the color of fine gold without a cloud in the sky. The sky was the pure, deep blue of the ocean ten miles out. The birds sang to their young, promising food and flight to the untried babies and many others of God’s small creatures could be seen scurrying around doing what all small creatures do. The drying leaves covered the ground like a quilt of fall colors. They rustled loudly under Emma’s black pumps, the sound unnoticed as she and her mother walked ahead of the large crowd of family and friends. They took their seats at the front of the block of chairs, facing the man who would try to ease their sorrow and deep pain with words of God; try to comfort them with promises of a better life where there were no bullets, no roadside bombs, no martyrs willing to give their life for their God and take all with them that they could. He would speak of freedom, service, loyalty, and making the ultimate sacrifice so that others could be free. He would talk of streets of gold and mansions prepared for the faithful. Emma sat silently through it all, not hearing a word much less finding comfort.
Her eyes were fixed, her vision so blurred by tears the details of the two caskets in front of her were indistinguishable. The sound of her mother’s quiet sobs echoed in the silence, emphasizing the words softly spoken by the preacher that had known all three siblings their entire life. Emma’s eyes were gritty, swollen as she sat stiffly with tears still rolling down her cheeks. Dear God, how could she have any tears left?! Her aunt held her mother close, her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Her father sat stoically, all emotion wiped from his face. No one tried to comfort Emma. All who had attempted had been pushed away, her anger too great to be set aside yet for the solace that grieving would eventually bring. She had withdrawn into herself, trying to understand what justified the loss of these two lives. The only answer that came to her was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
.....
“Blake, please,” he said. “And you should go to dinner with me so I can have a chance to redeem myself and prove that I’m not a serial killer or something.” He waited patiently for her decision. Seeing her obvious reluctance he tried a different approach. “How about we meet somewhere, then? That way you’ll have your own vehicle and you can leave whenever you get ready.”
“Alright,” she finally agreed. She smiled at the look of delight on his face at her answer.
.....
