I never imagined I’d open a successful restaurant. I never thought my dream would become a reality. When I let myself fantasize about it, I always saw Samantha by my side during it all. There was peace in acceptance, though. I learned to let the hurt I felt from my first friend motivate me through life.
The hurt she caused became my new reason to create meaningful connections. I consider myself friends with a lot of people now, Crew included.
After a bit more bickering, I reached out to Crew and pulled him by the arm. “Let’s go, Pretty Boy.”
“Call me if you need me!” he yelled into the room, dragging his feet as we went.
The moment we got into the car, Crew relaxed against the seat with a satiated sigh. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he needed this break as much as I did.
I knew he was stressed about our trip. He’d made leaps and bounds in therapy, learning how to navigate a life he never expected to have. Although he’d probably be in therapy for many years to come, Crew and I had learned so much about how to manage his PTSD, and it gave him hope.
He told me once that he felt like he deserved happiness.
I couldn’t agree more.
Our trip was going to focus on finding closure and facing his past in a safer environment. He had no idea what I had planned for him.
The plane ride wasn’t too exhausting. Now we had a few hours’ drive before we could rest for the night. I could hear Crew doing his breathing exercises in the passenger seat as we got closer—something we were both accustomed to now. I felt his body shaking where he was gripping my arm to ground himself. His fingertips were ice-cold against my body heat, forcing a shiver to run through me as well.
My arm was free of any blemishes. I was still in therapy. I had an appointment once a month and was on my way to graduating from it completely, weaning off my anxiety medication slowly but surely. The itching and urges came and went, but I hadn’t given in to them in over a year now.
Spreading my fingers along his thigh, I tried to soothe Crew the best I could. “We don’t have to do this today, you know. We could always head to the Bed ’n Breakfast and do it tomorrow.”
He let out a long, slow breath before shaking his head. “No, I’m ready. I think the hardest part of this all has been not getting any justice, y’know?” He paused, taking a moment to form his feelings into words. That was another thing he’d worked on with Emily. “I wanna get it over with and see if this’ll bring me any closure like we talked about.”
“All right. You know it’s okay if it doesn’t, right? Whatever you feel, you’re allowed to feel. We’ll deal with the rest later.”
“I know.” He leaned against the shoulder he held captive. “I know we will. We always get through it, right?”
Despite all the reassurance and support I could offer, Crew began to clam up the moment we arrived at Tiger Falls Cemetery. I drove at asnail’s pace, not only to be mindful of the others gathered here for their loved ones, but to give him extra time to acclimate. We knew the general direction of the grave we were visiting thanks to Tobias’s mom’s nosey friend, who’d heard “rumors” about the man.
I put the rental in park. The cemetery was small, proportionate to the tiny population. Graves were spread out everywhere. Some were huge, double graves for couples or families. Others were simple—rectangles dug into the ground, so dirty the names and dates were no longer visible.
One grave stood out the most, not far from where we’d parked. It was medium-sized and pristine. Flowers, knickknacks, angel figurines, and a lantern wrapped around it, showing pure celebration of a loved one dearly missed. An angel was carved into the stone, just above the name I couldn’t quite make out. More writing, possibly a quote, outlined the bottom before drifting into the life date. Her grave sprouted with love, even after death.
Crew silently opened the car door, and I followed. We walked in silence too, walking just a few feet away from the decorated grave until we stopped in front of another.
Unlike the one nearby, this grave screamed with neglect. Hatred. There was no stone or rusted rectangle. What used to be a white sign stood crooked, poking haphazardly from the ground.
Thompson Cooper.
This was it. There lay a vile, disgusting man who used his life to ruin others.
“Looks like nobody really cared much for ’im.” Crew sank to the ground. His eyes were trained on the dingy, broken sign in front of him. “Kinda makes me happy.”
I winced when the damp ground seeped through my clothes as I joined him there. “Good riddance.”
Orange overtook any blue in the sky, mixing with pink while the sun began to set. Grieving family members cried as they carried wilted flowers to their vehicles. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a green blinking light.
Lightning bugs, as Crew called them. They were fireflies in my northern vocabulary. We were in the peak of Southern summer. I was trying not togive way to how much the humidity affected me, or how the heat was turning my body to liquid.
Leaves rustled to our right. A group of birds flew from the top, creating silhouettes in the sky, illuminated by fireflies and a Southern background full of crickets and cicadas.
It was so quiet, yet so loud. Full of life where death reigned. For the first time, I was able to appreciate the country life my boyfriend had grown up in. Not a single car honked. Streetlamps were spaced thinly beyond the plot of land, only giving the barest hint of light.
There was peace in the frogs that sang. Peace in the summer wind that blew over us.
The loudest silence I had ever heard amongst grass I’d never touched before and wildflowers my eyes had never seen. Crew and I soaked in the energy around us, willing it to fuel our souls. I had never been religious, but I understood why the people here would be. With a world so beautiful, how else could they believe it?
