Grief

Revelation 7:16-17

“Never again will they hunger;

never again will they thirst.

The sun will not beat upon them,

nor any scorching heat.

For the lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd;

He will lead them to springs of living water.

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

And all God’s people say, amen.”

“Amen.” mumbled Debra in unison with half the town’s worth of crying, sweaty mourners standing outside of the local church’s cemetery. In the front of this crowd, at the foot of the freshly dug grave, stood Debra and her mother.

The pastor closed his Bible and dabbed the sweat off his forehead as he signaled the four men standing by to lower the casket into the grave. Debra blankly watched it descend, her mind on the idle whispers of the crowd behind her.

“On his birthday too,”

“Heh, yeah you could always hear him comin’ with that loud-ass car of his.”

“Did his father even try to make it out?”

“Can you imagine.. Finding that fire.. So awful.”

“Yeah, Debra’s all alone now.”

The coffin reached the bottom of the grave with a soft thud.

After a few more prayers the congregation retreated to the chapel for the sweet relief of air conditioning and refreshments. During this time a few folks approached Debra saying how sorry they were, and if she needed anything, anything at all, they were just a phone call away.

“Rhyan was so young,” the pastor said as he sat next to Debra. The majority of the mourners had left by now.

“Yeah. Eighteen,” Debra replied solemnly.

"But now he is in the kingdom of the Lord, waiting for you."

Silence.

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I just want to let you know that the church is keeping you in our prayers, you are all ways welcomed here, be it you decide to start coming.” He paused a moment, “Debra, are you going to be ok out there alone? Is anyone going to be home with you? Maybe it'd be best if you stayed in town.”

Thank you, Pastor, but my mother is spending the next couple of nights with me,” said Debra with a forced smile, “I’ll be fine.”

The town was a good 40 minute drive from the interstate to the winding dirt road off in the desert that lead to Debra’s house. On one side of this desert road the land dropped drastically downhill, but gradually became even and flat.

After a long drive with her mother chattering at the wheel and Debra’s mind elsewhere, they finally made it to the sun bleached two story home. With a backseat full of flowers and homemade meals in Tupperware, they unpacked the car.

Later that evening the exhausted women sat down at the kitchen table with a plethora of condolence dishes to choose from. Half-way through their meal, the phone rang.

“Probably your Aunt Shelly,” Debra’s mother guessed, “apologizing for not making it out.”

Debra rose from her seat and crossed the small kitchen towards the corded phone hooked on the wall “NO ID” read across the digital screen on it’s plastic surface. She answered.

“Hello?”

Static.

“Hello, Aunt Shelly?

Static. A chill ran up Debra’s spine.

“Hello, anyone?

“Debra! So glad you picked up! Listen I just got your message about what happened. So awful. When’s the funeral? I’ll try to make it out there, but you know how my schedule is. I know how I haven’t been around, or called or anything, but I still love you and Bryan and think about you all the-”

“His name is Rhyan.” Debra interrupted in a low shaky tone.

“Uh.. Who?”

“YOUR SON’S NAME IS RHYAN!” Debra screamed as she repeatedly slammed the phone into its holder. “RHYAN RHYAN RHYAN RHYAN Rhyan Rhyan.. Rhyan..” her voice trailed off. She took a few deep breaths and hung the phone up properly. Then she calmly unplugged the phone’s cord from the electrical unit and returned to her untouched meal.

“That was Danny, wasn’t it?” said Debra’s mother casually, as if she had not witnessed the scene that just took place.

“Mother I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You know, this is all his fault,” her mother said as she whipped the food from her mouth.

“Please, Mom. Stop.”

“I’m serious though!” her mother continued, “If Danny had done more than leave behind that loud piece of crap, none of this would have happened! You would think with a father like that Rhyan wouldn't have looked up to him so much.”

“Mother, please, not now.” Debra was practically begging now, but her mother continued obliviously.

“I can’t believe you let him drive that death trap.”

“SHUT UP!” Debra shrieked with tears streaming down her face, “Get the hell out of my house!”

~*~

Hours later, around one o'clock, Debra slipped out of bed to get away from her thoughts. She grabbed a sweater and warm shoes before stepping out onto the porch. A gust of cold dry air welcomed her as she closed the side door. Debra sat down in her rocking chair beside an identical, but empty one. She closed her eyes and listened to the world.

The voices of the desert animals created a lively, but melancholy symphony. The chill night wind sighed over the flat land, whistling through the scattered tufts of thick desert grass. The cragged, arid earth was illuminated by moonlight into a dim hum of gray that stretched on and on until melting into the dark sky above speckled with stars. Debra and Rhyan would sit on this porch for hours, drinking it all in. For a split second, Debra considered going inside to check if Rhyan were still awake, maybe he would like to join her. As she remembered that her son was dead all the splendor of the desert night turned to poison. She put her face in her hands and wept.

Why? Why her only child? Why couldn’t have God taken her in his place? In a fit of rage Debra stood and cursed God, “BRING HIM BACK! YOU DON’T NEED HIM! I NEED HIM!” She ran from the house, wanting to escape the pain it brought. Her vision, blurred by tears and sand picked up by the wind. Debra ran and ran until she failed to notice a piece of metal until after she tripped and skidded front forward across the hard desert ground. She laid there, half begging, half demanding God to give her child back. Debra didn’t care what it took, all she wanted was her Rhyan.

After quite some time, Debra rose and shook the sand and dirt from her night gown. Now with her emotions subsided she felt foolish for lashing out at God. The last thing she needed was to invoke his wrath.

With the light of the moon she tried to figure out where she was. To her left the ground rose, leaving her at the foot of the massive hill about halfway from where the road turns from the interstate. With her head clear, she could hear the distant rumbles of cargo trucks.

Debra froze, realizing where her traitorous feet had taken her.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. All around her was scorched earth and scattered pieces of charred metal. The roar of the trucks grew louder. This was where she had found him.

Two days ago. The evening of the night he died he was on his way to a party his friends in the town were throwing for his eighteenth birthday. Debra remembered watching him drive off in that loud, ugly car his father left behind years ago. She intended to get rid of the damned thing. Rhyan promised he wouldn’t drink, and when he didn’t come home she thought maybe... Then she saw the fire...

Debra’s trance was broken as she heard a car approaching and headlights growing brighter. Must be Mother. It was the only time Debra would ever be thankful to see her. Debra started scrambling up the hill but stopped when she heard how fast her mother was driving. She’d never get to the top in time. The car continued to thunder nearer. Debra stepped back, jumping and hollering, praying her mother could see her down the slope. The car sped into view, Debra waved her arms aggressively.

BANG! The front tire blew and the car swerved out of control. Screeching as it twisted, headlights shining through the cloud of stirred up dust.

BANG! The car spun violently as black smog sputtered out of the engine. The car rocked too close to the edge, tumbling off the top of the hill on it’s side. Clattering as it came down, veiled in black smoke. Debra didn't even have time to think before it came upon her.

~*~

Debra, sprawled across the scorched earth, slowly opened her eyes. Before her lay that old car on its side, burning brightly. Scraps of metal were scattered all around the scene.

She watched as a silhouetted figure crawled out of the burning overturned car. Her eyes faltered, the shadow drew nearer. Unable to move her head, she started at the oozing melted shoes in front of her face. The smell of burning flesh was overbearing.

“Hey, Mom.” was softly whispered into her ear and Debra slipped out of consciousness.