Paul Curtin - Gray Snow

Sean tilted his head upward, then went back to looking at the grave. The wind blew through the trees and ash rained down from the branches.

Silence. “Why did God take her?” Aidan asked.

“Because He wanted her with Him,” Elise said, pulling in a sobbing breath. Andrew wished he could be half as strong.

“Wanted her with Him,” Sean said looking up at everyone. “Because He’s not here now, right? There’s no more sunshine. No more green. No life anymore. He’s left us to ourselves. God’s not in this place anymore.”

Elise held Aidan closer to herself, shaking her head at Sean. After a few more seconds, a hard wind blew in and rushed over them like a wave. Everyone clammed up, and Michael said, “We still got a little hot chocolate in the reserves, right? We can boil some. Warm up.”

Everyone took a last moment to look at Molly before turning one at a time toward the house. Andrew walked halfway back before he noticed Sean hadn’t moved. He stood over her grave, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. With each rickety thrust, he put dirt onto the shovel and placed it in the grave. Andrew stood and watched the man shovel in heap after heap as his cries were carried away by the wind.

Sean looked like a man under a weight he couldn’t bear any longer, and it was crushing him bit by bit. Andrew could sympathize. Every passing minute a little piece of Andrew’s soul seemed to drift away like snow sifting out from the clouds. He didn’t know where it was going, but he knew he would never get it back.

THEY DIDN’T HAVE hot chocolate together. Almost as soon as they came inside, Michael and Elise disappeared upstairs, and Sean went God-knew-where, leaving Andrew with a cooling drink he didn’t want, sitting in almost total silence with Kelly and Aidan. The little boy spoke. “Why did dad say God isn’t here anymore?”

Andrew and Kelly exchanged a glance. She said, “Because people say things when they’re hurting.”

“Is it true?”

She pulled Aidan closer. “I don’t think so, little man.” Andrew watched. She was justified to be angry at God. She did nothing to deserve what happened to her—to have that filthy animal violate her. He never heard her complain. Not once. He wondered how she had the strength when all he wanted to do was scream and cry and curse.

The cup in Andrew’s hands seemed so heavy he couldn’t hold onto it anymore. He set it down harder than he intended, the cup clanking against the coffee table. Both stared at him. He didn’t make eye contact. “I just need to go,” he murmured and left.

He first walked into the kitchen. The sound of sobs rose from the floor, soft and distant. He thought it might have been coming from a vent, but realized it was Sean in the reserves. He almost reached out and opened the door, went down there to talk to him. Maybe they could just mourn together. He pulled his hand back and stuffed it in his pocket. Sean didn’t want to see anyone. His guilt and grief wouldn’t let him see comfort anywhere. Andrew knew that well.

He left the kitchen and climbed the stairs, but each step was excruciating. His feet felt loaded with cement. His tears were building up faster than he could dam them. He wanted to go to Molly’s room and smell her faint scent on her clothes and act like she was still alive.

He dragged his feet to her door and opened it. Elise and Michael were standing next to the dresser. They froze and looked back at him, and he darted his eyes away even though he wasn’t sure why. “I’m sorry. I can go somewhere else,” he said.

“No, come on in,” Elise said.

Michael shot a look to her, but she shook her head and invited Andrew into her arms. The dam broke. Elise was the only mom he had anymore. Her chest heaved too, and he felt her tears grace the side of his neck. Michael stood coolly behind, his hand over his eyes, rubbing his temples.

After a minute, she pulled back. He said, wiping his eyes, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re all right,” Elise said, smiling though tears fell onto her cheeks. “So, you were going to name him Lincoln?”

“We thought it was a good name.”

“It is. What if the baby was a girl?”

“Genevieve.”

Elise smiled. “That’s a pretty name.”

“We thought so.”

Michael said to Elise, “We need to talk.”

She turned to him. “You can’t even wait until Molly’s buried before you start talking about—”

“Come on, Elise. That’s not fair,” he said.

An uncomfortable sinking feeling came upon Andrew, an instinctual tingle that comes from being in the wrong place at the wrong time right before something happened. Elise may have said she was fine with him being there, but it didn’t feel like it.

Elise said, “He can hear what you have to say. He just lost the mother of his child and he lives in this home too. It affects him.”

Michael bit his bottom lip and grunted. “This concerns you a bit more.”

Elise looked back at Andrew. “Michael thinks we should—what was it you said? Take care of my husband?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what does, We need to take care of your husband , mean?”

Andrew took a step back. “Maybe I shouldn’t—”

“Don’t make me the bad guy here,” Michael said. “I’m trying to be reasonable about this and you’re making it seem like I’m the one with the problem.”

“What problem?”

“Christ, Elise. Really?”

“It was an accident.”

“An accident that happened because he was trying to kill someone else in this house.”

“He wasn’t going to kill anyone.”

“He said Andrew was a dead man. He was going for his gun—I was watching him.” He turned to Andrew. “Did you think he was going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Andrew stammered. He had spent a lot of time thinking about it—about the look in Sean’s eyes. That terrible look.

“He was going to kill him, Elise. His hand was on the gun. If he thinks he can just kill Andrew, what’s to stop him from offing anyone else he doesn’t agree with or he thinks needs to go?”

“Why would he do that?” Elise said.

“Because he’s done it before. What about the people out front?”

“He was protecting the house.”

“Did he need to outright kill them?”

“Men broke into our home and stole our food. They let my son suffocate to make a point. And you have the nerve to ask whether what Sean has done is excessive?”

“Elise, this is different. Please, you’ve got to hear me. This is different. This is—”

“No, listen to me, Michael. You have doubted my husband for almost two decades now. You have planted seeds of discord all across our relationship. And what have you been right about?”

Michael rubbed circles on his temples with his fingers.

Elise continued, “Can you even name one thing? When he wanted to move us out here, you said he was crazy and delusional and that he was trying to separate me from my family. When we built the reserves, you said he was paranoid. Then what happened?”

Michael started to talk, and Elise waved her hand and shut him up. “And then you said he was being paranoid about boarding up the house and rationing the food. You said he was going crazy. Seeds. Of. Discord. You said he shouldn’t be trusted with a gun. You kept telling me something had to be done about him not sleeping. And what happened?”

“Elise—”

“No. Stop. I think it’s about time we stopped doubting my husband. He’s been right every step of the way and you’ve been wrong. You’re just too arrogant to admit it.”