“Yes,” she replied, confused.
“Okay, I’ll be ready.” I promised, before I grabbed my empty coffee cup and chucked it into the garbage. I gave my friend one last fake smile before leaving the coffee shop. I heard Mack’s engine before I even reached my car. I hope he’s ready to drive around in circles because I had no idea where I was headed but I was on a mission to find peace.
Or my mind.
Whichever.
I wasn’t picky.
An hour later, I pulled into Green-Wood cemetery. I wonder if I’m the only one who gravitates to this place hoping to find answers. I don’t know what it is, but when I’m here I’m almost as much at peace as the souls that call this place home.
I climbed the hill and glanced over my shoulder to see Mack bowing his head. He didn’t get off his bike, allowing me privacy for which I was grateful. I stared at the tombstone, ran my fingers over my brother’s name as I dropped to my knees.
“Hi, Jack,” I whispered as I glanced down at the Yankee cap resting in front of the stone. “I guess dad paid you a visit,” I murmured, tracing the N and the Y on the cap before I broke down in a fit of tears. I don’t remember ever crying as much as I did right then and there. It was as if all the tears I should’ve been crying over the last thirteen years emerged at that moment.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “It’s all my fault you’re here and not…doing what every other teenage boy is doing. This hat should be on top of your head, not resting on your grave. You should be here but you’re not because I didn’t do anything to help you. I stood there and watched you run into the street. Me! I did that! I’m the reason you wound up underneath a car and I’m the reason Mommy and Daddy don’t have their son. I’m the reason, Jack,” I cried.
“Lacey,” my father’s voice croaked.
I lifted my head and saw my father standing behind me. His hands were balled into fists and he kept them at his sides as he stared at me with an unspeakable amount of grief pouring from the depths of his dark, soulful eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I shrieked. “I’m so sorry, Daddy.” I dropped my head into my hands as my body writhed with sobs. I felt him drop onto the grass behind me before he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, rocking me in his arms as he laid his chin on top of my head.
“Shh,” he whispered against my hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured.
“Not a damn thing,” he assured, his voice cracking as he spoke.
“It’s my fault. I should’ve called for help and I didn’t,”
“You were five years old Lacey,” he gritted, pulling back and turning my head so I could see his face. “You were just a baby yourself. It was my job…” he paused, his lower lip quivered as he fought to control his emotions. “…it was my job to protect your brother and watch after him,” he ground out. “Mine and only mine.”
He lifted his hand to his head.
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” he admitted.
“You couldn’t think straight,” I whispered.
“My maker…,” he started.
“…was speaking, and you had no choice but to listen,” I finished.
He stared at me speechless and I watched the man most people feared, the man who I thought was larger than life—I watched as a tear slid down his cheek.
“You had no control over what your head was forcing you to believe. The voice was so vivid, so real, you believed every word. It didn’t matter that your heart knew better, you weren’t the one in control anymore. You were a victim of a brutal attack of words that ripped apart your world and fed you straight to the devil. Maybe you tried to fight, wear your maker down, but you can only fight for so long, until you’re exhausted and you have no choice but to surrender.”
I stared at my father as he swiped his hands over his face and looked back at me with remorse. His apology for what his voice couldn’t bring himself to say.
He knew.
And I was the one to tell him.
I was the one to break the silence.
My voice.
And not the voice of my maker.
“Lacey,” he croaked, reaching for me as I pushed off the grass and rose to my feet.
“I’m sorry you lost a son. I’m sorry you were left with me and I’m sorry I fell in love with your friend but like I can’t control my mind…I can’t control my heart.”
His face changed instantly. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched.
“You what?”
“I fell in love with Blackie but you don’t have to get all bent out of shape about it because he doesn’t feel the same way. I should’ve listened to my maker, but I didn’t. She knew his loyalty was with you and not me. She knew he could never care for me the way I cared for him. She knew everything, but I tried to fight.” I paused, watching my father’s face contort with mixed emotions. “I surrender,” I whispered. “I’m ready to admit I’m crazy,”