PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Seventy-One
It was early afternoon in Minneapolis when
the plane landed. After collecting their luggage, Jack rented a car and piled
everything in, driving them to the motel in Chippewa Falls that he had made
reservations at.
He took his time bringing their luggage in
and putting it in the room, delaying going out as long as possible. Rose
offered to help with the luggage, but he refused, telling her to rest. She knew
why he was putting things off, so she let him take it at his own pace.
Finally, there was nothing left to do.
Looking around to see if anything had been left undone, he got the keys to the
rental car. He and Rose set out into the town.
*****
Their first stop, as Jack knew it had to be,
was the cemetery. Although he hadn’t been to Chippewa Falls in over eight
years, he still knew where everything was located. It was only a short drive to
the cemetery, one that passed all too quickly.
Parking nearby, he took the keys from the ignition,
but couldn’t bring himself to leave the car. Putting the keys in his pocket, he
rested his hands on the steering wheel, reluctant to leave the vehicle and
confront his past.
"Are you worried about seeing your
parents’ grave again?" Rose asked, turning from where she was sitting in
the passenger seat.
Jack was silent for a moment. At last, he
spoke.
"Yes. I haven’t even been to Chippewa
Falls in more than eight years, let alone to the cemetery. I’m really not
looking forward to seeing that grave again. It’s not that I don’t want to...to
pay my respects...but I don’t want to see where they were buried. It’s too…real."
Rose didn’t need to ask what he meant. She
knew.
"Jack, you’ve been thinking about them
ever since Daniel was born, and even more since you found out I’m pregnant. I
think that you need to visit that grave, or you’ll never stop beating yourself
up over it."
Jack nodded reluctantly, recognizing the
wisdom of her words, but still dreading the sight of the lonely grave. Slowly,
he got out of the car, coming around to the other side to help Rose out.
They walked in silence through the cemetery.
In spite of not having been there in eight years, Jack knew exactly where the
grave was located. The memory of it was burned into his mind like the fire that
had killed the people inside it.
He walked slowly at first, Rose beside him,
then walked faster and faster, until Rose was almost running to keep up with
him.
"Jack, wait!" she gasped, trying to
keep up. He stopped abruptly at one of the graves and she almost ran into him.
He stood looking at it for a moment before he
spoke. The grave was well-kept, the grass around it mowed and free of weeds.
The headstone was upright and clean, in spite of being left alone so long.
Rose looked at the grave of her in-laws,
seeing how young they were when they had died. Paul Dawson had been forty years
old, Elizabeth Dawson thirty-five—much too young to have died, leaving a
teenage son behind.
Jack put an arm around Rose, pulling her
close, as much for his own comfort as for hers. Slowly, he spoke to his
parents.
"Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. I’ve been gone a
long time now. It’s been over eight years since I’ve been here." He
paused, swallowing hard, then introduced Rose. "This is Rose Dawson, my
wife. She’s one of the most warm, loving people I have ever met. Rose is a very
special person, and I’m lucky to have found her. She’s the best thing that ever
happened to me. If you’d had a chance to know her, you would have loved her,
too." Rose put her arms around him. "Mom...Dad...you’re going to be
grandparents. I know you always wanted more children, but at least you’ll have
grandchildren—more than one, if Rose and I have our way about it. This is our
first. She should be born in about a month. She’s healthy, and we’re looking
forward to her birth."
He fell silent for a moment, staring down at
the grave. When he spoke again, his voice was choked. "Mom...Dad...I know
I’ve done some bad things in my life, but I’ve shaped up. I don’t do them
anymore. I just hope you can forgive me for being so stupid. I’m sorry for all
the hurtful things I’ve done." His voice broke.
Slipping from Rose’s embrace, he knelt down
before the headstone, tears running down his face. "Oh, Mom...Dad...I’m so
sorry for what I said before you died. I don’t hate you, and I never have.
Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it."
He knelt there for several minutes, his
expression distant as some far-off memory went through his mind. Finally, Rose
sank down beside him, pulling a tissue from her purse. She handed it to him,
sitting beside him as he wiped his eyes and tried to calm down. After a moment,
he told her what he had said to them before they died.
"I had been out setting off firecrackers
with some other kids in the neighborhood. I knew I wasn’t supposed to, but it
was too much fun to pass up." He smiled slightly at the memory. "What
wasn’t fun was when Dad drove by and caught me at it. He pulled over, hauled me
into the car, and drove me home. When we got home, he yelled at me about the
dangers of firecrackers, and then grounded me for two weeks. Mom agreed with
him once she heard what I’d been doing. I got mad and yelled that I hated them,
then stomped up the stairs to my room to sulk." He sighed, a long,
shuddering breath. "That was the last thing I ever said to them. The fire
happened that night, and only I escaped." His eyes overflowed again.
"They died thinking that I hated them. But I didn’t hate them, not really.
I was just angry at them for spoiling my fun."
Rose was silent for a moment, thinking. She
put her arms around him, leaning close.
"Jack, I’m willing to bet that they
didn’t believe that you hated them. Kids say dumb things sometimes, especially
when they’re mad. I’ve told Mom that I hate her on a few occasions, but I
don’t, really. We don’t exactly get along, but I don’t hate her, and I think
she knows it. Your mom and dad probably knew, too."
"I still wish my last words to them had
been something nicer, like ‘I love you’, or even ‘thank you’. I hate you is a
terrible thing to say, especially when it’s the last words you ever say to
someone you love." He wiped his eyes. "Do you really think they knew
that I didn’t hate them?"
"I think they understood. Parents know
that sometimes kids say things they don’t really mean."
At that moment, a shaft of sunlight broke
through the clouds, shining down on the young couple sitting by the grave. Jack
and Rose looked up at it wonderingly. Rose reached for Jack’s hand, squeezing
it lovingly.
"I think they forgive you."