THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! There is one more. You might be tempted to think the story is over with this chapter, but it's not. There is one more chapter that will be posted next weekend. After that chapter...well, we'll just have to see what comes next!
I hope you enjoy this installment! Drop me a line if you want. I'd be happy to hear from you.
If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you.
Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
46 Saying Goodbye and Leaving
It was a little after two when we walked in the house. Joe was waiting in the living room, at the bottom of the steps. He was wearing his Sunday church clothes and I was confused. "What's with the dapper look?" I asked.
"I want you to take us, Mary and me, to see Mom and Dad." Joe announced.
I'd been happy. Just a moment before Joe spoke, I'd been happy. With a single utterance, Joe brought my mood crashing down like a stalled jet plane. I didn't yell, but it was an effort not to. "Joe, I'm going to control my temper because I don't think a scene would be appropriate. I need to ask you why you take pleasure in ripping my guts out."
Joe looked like he didn't see the problem in his request. "I'm not trying to hurt you. If we're leaving here for good tomorrow morning, we owe our parents a last visit."
"Why?" I asked. I'd reasoned out the whole cemetery thing before and it never made sense to me. I gave Joe my thoughts on the matter. "If you don't believe in anything, no one will know you visited, if you believe in God, they're not in the cemetery anyway, so there's no reason to go."
Joe's resting scowl deepened as he tried hard for a guilt trip. "It's a matter of respect and you know that. They're only ten minutes away. We'll pick up some flowers for Mom, run over, say a few prayers, tell them we love them, and come back. The whole trip will take an hour. You can spare an hour for the people who gave you life."
The anger that had been steadily building inside me was about to blow when Shawn stepped in. "Why do you insist on hurting him?" He asked my brother. "You know how he feels, or do I need to remind you? Why can't you leave him alone?"
"Shawn," my brother warned my husband with menace in his voice, "I recommend you keep out of this. You're trespassing on family territory."
Shawn's anger flared at Joe's snide words. I think I felt more rage boiling off him than I felt from myself. He put himself between me and Joe, this time, facing my brother. His voice and his body shook as he spoke.
"You are very lucky I am not a violent person and that I'm a guest in your house. If not for those two things, I would beat the living shit out of you for that comment. How dare you say I'm not family? I will not verbally remind you again that I am his husband. Family is supposed to protect each other, not tear each other apart. I'm more his family right now, than you. I'm telling you; you will stop hurting him, or I will take you apart." Before Joe had a chance to answer, Shawn grabbed my hand and led me out through the front door, around the house, and into the back.
"WHO THE FUCK DOES HE..." Shawn got out before I pulled him against me in a grateful embrace.
"Thank you." I whispered in his ear as a few tears escaped down my face.
Shawn's arms wrapped around me, and we held each other in spite of the August heat. Our love won out over the rage and calmed us both. We parted and sat on the yard swing. When I felt like I could speak without breaking down, I did. "Do you think I should? Would it be good for me to face them?"
"I don't know." Shawn wagged his head back and forth in a display of worried frustration. "You probably won't get another chance. If you want to risk it, I'll go with you, but that goes without saying. We don't have to go with them. We can go on our own."
I shrugged and let my shoulders sag. "I don't think it will be any easier one way or another, and like you said, I won't get another chance. Maybe this will help me to bury the dead."
Shawn had a thought that brightened him up. "Your Grandmom Helen is there to, isn't she? We could bring flowers for her and then it won't be all about your folks."
I took my husband's hand from his lap, brought it to my lips and kissed the back of it. "You're brilliant, you know that? But no flowers for Grandmom Helen. We'll stop for a pack of smokes and a good bottle of gin."
"Anything you say." Shawn said as he took his hand back and rose from the swing.
We crossed the yard toward the sliding glass door, and I stopped us before I opened it. "Thank you, Shawn."
"You don't thank me for this stuff." Shawn reminded me.
"I know. Let me do it anyway. Please."
He didn't argue with me. I grabbed his hand and got a squeeze of comforting acknowledgement in return. We went back in the house and saw Joe and Mary in the living room. I couldn't tell if they were there again, or still there, but I didn't care.
"We decided to go," I announced, "I'll drive."
Joe tried to start shit right away. His superior tone announced that my `apology was accepted.' Shawn's anger ignited like Joe had tossed a match in a lake of gasoline. I felt my own flare in response but didn't let it overwhelm me. I spoke for both of us. "Joe, I advise you to leave it alone. I have not apologized and neither has Shawn. You are the one that owes the apology...AGAIN! We're going to be big about it and not insist. We will get changed and will be ready to go in ten minutes. Be out front." I instructed and pulled Shawn upstairs.
We changed into clothes that were more formal than the ones we'd been wearing and joined Joe, Mary, and Bem out front. Bem's presence surprised me, then it didn't. I supposed Andy wasn't there because he'd been left to look after the twins. He also never knew his grandparents, so there was no reason for him to join us.
We stopped at a florist on Main Street and Mary went in to pick out flowers for our dead mother. I ran into the liquor store next to the flower shop. Mary and I regained the car at the same time; her with a bouquet and me with a fifth of good gin, a set of disposable plastic shot glasses, a plastic ashtray, a soft pack of T-Squares, and a book of paper matches. My sister scrutinized my purchases with a perplexed look in her face, but she didn't say anything.
We drove in near silence to the cemetery on the border of Maple Shade and Pennsauken. It was an old one with an exclusively Catholic section that had appealed to my mother's desire not to spend eternity in mixed company. I drove into the grounds and navigated with the help of green wooden signs with white arrows that pointed to the various faiths.
I parked in the Catholic section and got out. Joe, Mary, and Bem headed to the grave while I lingered near the car with Shawn. I leaned on the fender and slipped my left hand in my pocket to grip my watch. Shawn eyed my bulging pocket long enough to make me uncomfortable. I drew the hand from the pocket and fidgeted with my bracelet instead.
"Are you OK?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
"For now."
"Do you want to see your grandmother while we wait for them?"
"No. I want to get the unpleasantness out of the way first. Grandmom Helen could always make me smile, no matter how bad I felt." I draped my arm around Shawn's shoulders and pulled him against me. "I think you would have liked her. I know she would have liked you."
"I think so to." Shawn said. "The memories you have of her...she seems like a pretty amazing lady." He shifted topics on me and nodded to where Mary was introducing a visibly confused Bem to a polished granite stone. "You don't have to go over there if you don't want to."
"I'll go. Not with them...just you and me. What I have to say is for the dead and you only, no one else."
We waited patiently while Joe and Mary paid their respects. "What do you think Bem is thinking right now?" I asked Shawn.
He grinned and shook his head at the idea of Bem trying to understand the concept behind a graveyard. On Solum the dead are disposed of with little ceremony. The bodies are viewed more as a sanitation issue than something to treat with reverence. "I'm sure Mary will explain it and answer all his questions." Shawn said to reply to my question without answering it.
Joe, Mary, and Bem finished their prostrations and came back to the car. Shawn and I stepped forward to take our turn. As I approached, I realized a few things. I realized that I hadn't seen the grave since the funeral, I'd never seen it sober, and I never saw the monument. There was a single grey stone with my father's name on the left and my mother's on the right. If I wasn't so miserable over being in the cemetery in the first place, I would have laughed at the inscription carved across the top of the stone. `Here Lies Simon and Theresa Philips, Beloved Parents of Church, Mary, and Joseph.'
Beloved my ass,' I thought bitterly, endured is more like it.'
Shawn and I stood for a while, me with my arm around him, and him holding my hand. We didn't speak or do anything but stare at the headstone. After a while, I felt that I should say what I had to say.
"Mother, Father, this is Shawn. He's my husband and we're very happy together." My voice ran out of words to utter. All the things that had been in my head on the way to the cemetery vanished like smoke on a windy day. I swallowed hard and managed to continue after a moment's reflection. "We're leaving tomorrow morning for good. I won't see you anymore. AND I REALLY WISH I WASN'T HAPPY ABOUT THAT! WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME?" I shouted at the grave. I dropped to my knees and rested my miserable forehead on the top of the smooth stone.
"I only have one thing to thank you for." I said quietly but loud enough for Shawn to hear. "If you hadn't inflicted the damage you did on me, I never would have met my husband, and he wouldn't be here now to help me get over the damage you inflicted on me. Do you know why I refuse to believe in God? It's because if God exists, and there is a life after this one, I will have to see you again. I would rather die a permanent death than to face either of you...ever. Goodbye for the last time." I lifted my head, kissed the top of the stone, and stood.
Shawn took my hand again and squeezed it. "I'm proud of you." He whispered to me.
I felt that he was proud of me, and it made me feel better. There was another emotion next to the pride, one that I didn't understand. Shawn felt resolve, like he'd decided to do something. I wondered what it was. He didn't make me wonder for long.
"Now finish it." Shawn said with a nod to the headstone.
"Finish what?" I asked without looking at him.
Shawn tugged at my hand so I would look his way. He met my eyes. His face was stern, and his feelings were apprehensive and stubborn. "Give your father back his watch."
I was shocked. I didn't know that Shawn knew that I still had it. I never let him see it. I kept it in my pocket and didn't take it out except to transfer it to another pair of pants. I hadn't worn the thing since Shawn and I were married. Shawn must have felt my surprise.
"It's time." He said gently. "For sixteen years and two months you've either worn or carried that watch around as a talisman of your guilt. You had it with you when I took you, and when you saved Solum, and now you've brought it back. Leave it here. It's time to bury the guilt and the shame with the dead. This is where those feelings belong, not in your pocket. Please, Church." He begged me. "I'm asking you to choose your current life, the one you worked for, the one you deserve, over this one...to choose me over them."
I couldn't argue with Shawn when he put it like that. I shoved my left hand in my pocket and drew out the broken, gold-tone, digital watch. I stretched it between my hands and felt the ridges of the flexible metal band and the cracked plastic surface of the liquid crystal display. I set it on my father's side of the headstone. "Now what?" I whispered to Shawn.
"Now you say goodbye and we have a drink with your grandmother."
"Should I just leave it?" I nodded to the worthless watch. "Maybe I should vaporize it."
"No, just leave it. If you destroy it, it becomes a memory that you can keep with you. If you leave it, it remains an object that you deliberately abandoned."
The watch felt conspicuous in its absence from my pocket. Four years previously, it had been replaced on my wrist by the band of gold that symbolized my union to Shawn. It had gone into my pocket after that. Having it with me was familiar. It was never comforting, but it was familiar, like an ugly wart on a finger. I tore myself away from the watch and the headstone and went back to the car with Shawn. I got the liquor store bag from the front seat and moved off in the opposite direction to find my grandmother.
"Where are you going?" Joe called after me.
"To see the only relative I ever liked." I answered over my shoulder.
My grandmother's grave was by itself. It was her wish to be buried, but my grandfather, who died before I was born, didn't want to be in the ground, so he was in a vault at a different cemetery. The grave was marked by a cheap, flat stone set into the grass like a paver for a driveway that was never finished. Its only words were her full name, Helen Cappo, and her birth date and death date. There was no epitaph or words of love.
The stone had been paid for begrudgingly by my folks because the old lady had no life insurance to cover final expenses. There was also no estate because whatever money Grandmom Helen once had was taken by the nursing facility my parents shut her in when they didn't want to be bothered with the little help she needed to live on her own.
More than once, I'd considered setting out a big, expensive monument for her; something with stone angels mounted on each end and an epitaph that went on for paragraphs. The old woman would have seen the humor, but she would have hated the extravagance, so I left things as they were.
Shawn and I stood near the headstone, careful not to stand on top of the grave. I hovered the shopping bag in the air and reached in for the contents. I opened the gin and poured three shots, which I also hovered in the air, then I broke open the pack of T-Squares and lit three. One I set in the ashtray, one I stuck in my mouth, and the last I handed to Shawn. He accepted it with what would have seemed like practiced hands to anyone who didn't know that he'd never smoked.
"You don't have to smoke it. Just hold it." I said to calm the nervousness I'd felt from Shawn when I pushed the cigarette into his hands.
I gave Shawn a shot, took one from the air for myself, and set the third next to the ashtray on the surface of the headstone. I drew on my cigarette and tasted the once-familiar harsh flavor of unfiltered tobacco. I tossed the shot back and felt my face pucker at the antiseptic flavor of Grandmom Helen's favorite drink.
Shawn wanted to get into the spirit of the moment and tried to smoke his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, like my memories told him to, and gave himself a terrible coughing fit. When he settled, he set his cigarette in the ashtray to smolder next to the other one. Shawn tried to wash the acrid tobacco taste from his mouth with his shot of gin but drank it too fast and only managed to set off a second coughing fit when the liquor stole his breath. I patted his back and bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Grandmom Helen would have been in stitches.
When Shawn was breathing normally again, I introduced him. "Hi Grandmom. This is my husband, Shawn. We're leaving here tomorrow, and I want you to know I love you and I miss you and I always will. I'm still driving the Vic. It's been a great car and I can't thank you enough for it. I know it's a little early for cocktails, but I thought we'd make an exception just this once. Thank you for being there for me."
I looked to Shawn to see if he had anything to add. He cleared his throat and said the type of things he probably would have said if he was meeting my grandmother in person. "It's nice to finally meet you ma'am. I love your grandson very much. I'm glad you were there for him to."
I stubbed out the three cigarettes in the tray, poured the third shot on the grass, and gathered the ashtray, the butts, and the shot glasses into the liquor store bag for disposal. I tucked the paper matches into the cellophane of the cigarette pack and placed them and the gin bottle on a plain space on the headstone. Shawn and I went back to the car, got in, and drove everyone back to Joe's.
We walked in the house in silence, and Shawn and I went right to our room. I was changing clothes and had my shirt off when there was a knock at the bedroom door. Shawn opened it and admitted Mary and Bem.
"Are you alright?" Mary asked me. "I didn't know it would be like that for you, that it would hurt that much. I'm sorry."
"It's over now, Mary." I slid my other shirt over my head and smoothed it down. "They're dead and buried and in twelve hours and a little, I'll be gone from this house, and this world, forever. Let's not discuss it. Please."
"We'd like to do something." Bem added. "You and Shawn have done so much for Mary and me. Is there anything we can do?"
I didn't think there was anything that they could do, but I decided to ask them anyway. "Just make sure everything goes smoothly from now until we leave. If anything goes wrong, or Joe decides he wants to get the Pope's permission to go, or any other goddamned thing, I'm gonna snap. Just don't let it happen and I'll be fine." I dropped my head in my hands, covered my face, and talked to my palms.
"I want to go home now, and sleep in my bed, Shawn's and mine, in our apartment. I want to fuck all over that apartment without wondering if someone will hear us or if the floor will creek or if the smell of sex will linger in the room after we've left. I want to have loud, shouty, needy, urgent, sweaty, exhausting sex with my husband until neither of us can move, then I want to pass out, wake up, and do it again."
Words filled my mind and tumbled out of my mouth as my anxiety and my anger took over and spoke for me. "I don't want to worry about how much I tell people about my life and worry that too much will scare them away from coming with me for their own good. I don't want to be judged for my lifestyle, or questioned, or be given un-asked-for advice. I don't want to see the terrifying shadows of the past in this house anymore. I don't want to hear that I owe some dead person or an imaginary deity homage or supplication before we leave. I don't want to have any more emotional trauma."
I raised my head and uncovered my face as my anger climaxed. "I WANT NO MORE BULLSHIT OF ANY KIND UNTIL WE GET TO SOLUM!" I shouted and pounded my fist in my palm.
The anger left me like a startled sparrow taking to the sky and anxiety returned to take its place. I dropped my head back in my hands and covered my face as I made the last plea to my sister and my friend. "You two make that happen, and I'll be forever in your debt. OK?"
"We'll take care of it." Bem said evenly. "Mary and I accept the assignment. There will be no more bullshit between now and when we get to Solum tomorrow. If anything comes up that looks or smells like bullshit, and we're not around, direct the cause of the bullshit to see either of us, and we'll settle it."
I raised my head to stare at Bem's very serious face. I turned to Mary to see a similar expression. "You know, I think I believe you." I said and started to feel better.
"You should. I've accepted an assignment and I will," Bem took Mary's hand and held it, "we will carry it out."
"Uh...carry on then." I said with a wave of acknowledgement. Bem saluted, Mary gave a facsimile of a salute, and they left the room.
When the door shut behind them, I looked to Shawn. He spoke some optimism in my direction. "Now I know it's going to be OK." He said and smiled a little.
I did my best to be optimistic with him. "We couldn't have a more dedicated guy or motivated woman on our team." I observed.
Shawn and I hid in our room for about an hour after we changed, then we came down to see about dinner. As we rejoined the activity of the house, we immediately noticed signs of Bem and Mary's work on their mission. Not only was dinner already underway with vegan options for Shawn and me, but Joe apologized to both of us for saying that Shawn wasn't family. I didn't know how Bem and Mary had managed to elicit an apology from my brother; if it was more likely that Mary reasoned with him or if Bem threatened his life. Either way, I really didn't care.
Dinner was calm and pleasant. After the meal, we had a quick meeting to confirm arrangements for the next morning. After that, Andy showed me a massive antique steamer trunk he'd found in the attic and stuffed with clothes. I tried to lift it the regular way and found I could barely move it. I carried the thing downstairs and out to the car with magic and was surprised how much the car squatted when I set it on the trunk lid. I'd already checked on everyone else's carry on and secured them in the car trunk. I lashed the steamer trunk to the car trunk rack, locked the car up, and turned in early.
When we were in bed, I leaned into Shawn. "I need to thank you again for stepping between me and Joe earlier."
"No need. He was out of line, and I wasn't going to put up with it anymore."
"You know, when you threatened to `beat the living shit' out of Joe...if I wasn't in the middle of an emotional hurricane, I would've needed to sit down."
"What do you mean?" Shawn asked with genuine innocence.
"Your aggression physically excited me, you dope. I especially liked that you enunciated each word in the threat like you were giving a speech. `Beat...the...living...shit...out...of...you,' fantastic."
"This S&M streak you keep displaying is making me nervous." Shawn teased.
I laughed and kissed him gently. "I'll be the M' if you want to be the S.'" I offered. "You are a creep." He accused and laughed.
"And you wouldn't have it any other way."
I set the alarm, kissed Shawn goodnight, and we went to sleep.
I slept deeply, restfully until the alarm went off at two-thirty. Shawn and I showered separately and dressed in the clothes and suits Andy had laid out the night before. Instead of the tie-tacks that Andy had originally selected for us, Shawn and I found the pride pins in their place. I happily pinned my tie in place with the plastic rainbow and grinned at my reflection in the dresser mirror. "Pride." I said to myself and headed downstairs on my own while Shawn finished dressing.
I planned to put the coffee on and see about grab-and-go breakfasts. I flipped the kitchen light on and screamed when Joe wished me a good morning from the dark dining room. "I wish you'd stop doing that." I complained. "What the hell are you doing there?"
Joe looked up at me. His face was white and pinched, and he had dark stains under his eyes. He looked like shit. "I've been sitting here all night." He said with a voice that sounded like it was too tired to leave his throat. "I don't know what to do. I keep trying to think but it's like my brain won't work like it's supposed to."
I started the coffee and went to the dining room to wait for it. I sat next to Joe at the table. "Talk to me."
He shook his head like he was trying to clear cobwebs out of his mind with a physical act. "Why are you still trying with me? I've been hurting you for two straight weeks. If anything, I'm getting worse and not better. Why haven't you given up?"
"Because you're still my little brother and I still want what's best for you, even if you are a prick."
Joe dropped his head in his hands like I do when I'm overwhelmed. It made me wonder how many other mannerisms we shared. "I'm sorry...I really am. Even when I'm doing it, I hear myself and I wonder who that a-hole is that's giving my brother a hard time about stuff that's none of my business and then I realize it's me and I can't stop myself. Maybe Shawn should have beat the living stuff out of me yesterday. I would have deserved it."
"Nah, then he would have had to fix you up and what kind of lesson would that teach you?"
Joe lowered his hands from his face to look at me and judge the sincerity of what I'd said to him. He sniggered when he realized there wasn't any. "Shawn is right," Joe said, "you are a silly ass."
We had a little laugh that lightened the mood. I offered some advice that I felt I had enough experience to offer. "Try not to worry so much. Once you're on Solum, you'll have time and all this stuff that seems important here won't seem like shit there. We'll get your legs fixed up and you'll get into the swing of life and before you know it, you'll meet someone, and they'll make you look back on this part of your life like it was just a bad dream."
Joe looked down and played with his hands on the vinyl surface of the tablecloth. "Do you mean that, about me finding someone?" He asked in low monotone. "Do you think I can? I'm a thirty-eight-year-old, crippled, `Doubting Thomas' lawyer with an almost grown son. I'm pedantic, boring, and I haven't had sex for almost as long as my son's been alive. Is Solum such an amazing place that even I could find love there?"
I leaned forward and put my head almost against the tabletop so my face would be in Joe's line of sight. "You sell yourself short. You could have found someone here if you had really wanted to. There, you won't be crippled anymore and thirty-eight is meaningless, that's only a little over ten percent of maximum life expectancy. You are a Doubting Thomas, but that's just part of who you are, and you're wrong about being boring."
Joe shook his head like he didn't believe me, so I tried to explain. "It's only that you haven't had enough going on lately to have much to talk about. We'll get you fixed up, and you'll go on a real adventure, like you always wanted. You'll meet someone completely by accident, and to them, you'll be young, attractive, and the most interesting man they ever met. You'll still be a Doubting Thomas though."
Joe looked like all he needed was a little convincing, but he wasn't there yet. "What about the other thing?" He asked. "The sex I mean. With everything being so open there, won't my lack of experience be embarrassing?"
"When you meet the right person, or even the `right now' person, they'll enjoy helping you gain experience. Look at me...I didn't have any of the right kind of experience when I met Shawn. He was very patient and understanding. He helped me figure out what I liked and how to give him what he likes. When he found me, I was grossly overweight, a heavy smoker, a barely functioning alcoholic, twice his age, burned out, and miserable. Somehow, he was able to look beyond all that to see what I could be. You'll find a Shawn of your own and they'll do for you what he did for me."
Joe's face scrunched up and he was instantly nasty when he thought I was making fun of him. "I already told you I'm not into men. I..."
I put my hands up to show surrender. "I'm not telling you to look for a man to make fun of you again. I mean you'll find someone who can look beyond your faults and see what a fine human being you are and what a kind, loving, passionate man you can be. I promise."
"I hope you're right." Joe said and seemed to collapse in on himself.
"Joe...Joe...ah shit." I rubbed my neck and got ready to expose an awful lot of myself. "Pay close attention to me, this is important, and I don't want to have to say it twice. I'm in love. Every single day, I get to spend time with a beautiful, caring, loving person. That person is the single most important thing in my life. Do you know what the best part is? I'm the most important thing in his life. You'll find someone you can't live without, someone that will make you wonder how you lived before you met them. The most amazing thing is, they will feel the same way about you. Believe me, she's out there. You just have to go get her."
My brother looked hard at me, and a smile spread across his face. "You really are a romantic, aren't you? Just this once, I'm going to believe something no one can prove. You said it, promised me, so it's true and I can't wait."
"Good, GREAT!" I slapped his shoulder as I rose. "You believe it, and it will happen. I'm almost as excited as you are. You want coffee?"
"Please."
I poured two cups of coffee and got protein bars for both of us. Joe choked his down and went to get ready for the day. I ran back upstairs as Shawn was just tying the Windsor knot in his tie. We made a quick check on the room, made the bed, and were downstairs having more coffee and protein bars by three fifteen. The rest of the group, except Joe, descended by three thirty. I went out and started the car while Mary toured the house to make sure everything was as it should be. Joe finished getting ready, cleaned up the coffee things, double checked the locks, and was the last one out of the house.
As I watched him cross the yard, I thought maybe it was good that he was exhausted. The tiredness would keep him from being able to think too much about the life he was getting ready to leave behind. No one spoke as we piled into the car by three forty.
Mary, Bem, Hannah, and Leah occupied the back seat while Joe, Andy, Shawn, and I were to occupy the front. The split was even in number but uneven in size. I wanted to keep the new family unit that was Bem, Mary, and the twins, together for my sanity. The twins had always been well-behaved, but I didn't want to risk a two-hour drive across dimensions with the possibility of whininess brought on by an ill-advised seating arrangement. That meant the front seat would be tight, but I'd rather be squeezed than annoyed.
As I didn't mind being pressed to Shawn, and I didn't think Andy would mind being pressed to his other side, and I didn't care what Joe wanted, that was the distribution I picked. Everyone climbed in and was ready to go except Joe. He stood outside the open passenger side door and looked in without moving or saying anything.
Joe muttered something I didn't catch over the rumbling idle of the V-8 engine. "What?" I asked.
"I don't think I can." He repeated.
I slammed my hands on the steering wheel like I was trying to drive it into the dash. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" I shouted and instantly reached the point where I was ready to knock my brother out and strap him to the fender like a dead deer. A bark from the back seat stopped my rage in its tracks.
"Shut up, Church," Bem ordered, "I'll handle this."
Bem leapt from the car and was on Joe in the blink of an eye. He half dragged, half carried my brother down the yard and around the house far enough to be out of sight. I was so surprised at his immediate action, and the look of shocked confusion on Joe's face that a man two-thirds of his weight was manhandling him across the yard, that I didn't think about anything else. The absurdity of the moment was compounded by the fact that Bem was immaculately dressed in his black suit and vest with his pork-pie hat on his head. It was like watching a too-short fashion model bully my brother. If not for the frustration underlying the scene, I might have laughed.
Minutes went by that seemed like hours. Just as I was about to go after them, Bem and Joe came back into view, this time walking side by side. I couldn't read their expressions, but when they got to the car, Joe got in without a moment's hesitation and Bem jumped in back.
"I apologize." Joe said as he pulled the door shut.
"Get going." Bem directed from behind me. "That little distraction put us three minutes behind schedule."
I shoved the car in gear and took off down the street. "I'm warning you now, Mary," I said with my eyes on my sister's reflection in the rearview mirror, "when I get out of this car, I'm kissing your fiance with my tongue."
Mary laughed. "Just this once, but don't get any ideas and no groping."
"Killjoy!" I complained.
I got to the church and saw Father Miller waiting for us under a flood light in the parking lot. He was dressed in full vestments, and he held the silver bucket and perforated holy water wand thing. When we parked in front of him, he made a complete circuit of the car to spritz it with holy water and pray for our safe journey.
When he got around to the front again, he set the bucket down and raised his hands. "Oh Lord, we humbly ask you to protect this 1986 Ford Crown Victoria and its occupants as they journey in your name to a faraway land. Keep them safe and guide them to their destination. Amen." He made the sign of the cross and set a hand on the hood before he came around to see me.
I got out and greeted him with a hearty handshake. "Thank you, Father. You've made a big difference in my life, in all our lives. Without you, this trip wouldn't have been a success."
"Thank you, Church Summas. You've made a difference in my life, opened my eyes to things I didn't think were possible."
I leaned in close like I was going to tell him a secret. He leaned in to listen. "Would a hug be undignified, Father?" I asked.
Father Miller leaned back and looked very serious for just long enough to say, "it would be very undignified," his seriousness cracked as he continued with, "but welcome all the same."
I hugged him tightly and thanked him again. "OK, my son, OK. Not so tight, one of us is a brittle old man."
I released him and stepped back. "You're not so old and you're far from brittle. I'll miss you. If I'm ever through here again, I'll come see you." I promised.
"I'll pray for that day." Father Miller said with a slap to my shoulder. "Now, get going or you'll be late."
I got back in the car, and Father Miller stuck his head in the window. "Goodbye all, blessings, best wishes, and sincere thanks." He called into the car, then stood up, and gave the car roof a double slap.
I eased us out of the parking lot with a quick toot of the horn, took Main Street to Forklanding Road, out to Route 73, down 90 to the Betsy Ross Bridge. As we drove south on 95, I looked around the car. Hannah and Leah were playing some kind of game as they sat between Bem and Mary in the back seat. Bem's right arm rested on the top of the seat back and Mary stroked his hand while they looked lovingly at each other over the twin's heads.
Shawn was pressed hard against me, harder than the overloaded front seat required. His hand was on my thigh. He didn't rub my leg, but he rested his hand on it like he wanted to remind me of his presence. Andy simmered with excitement. He looked in all directions like he expected Solum to spring up around him from the decay of Philadelphia. Joe was still and silent. He stared expressionlessly through the windshield.
Joe broke his silence and started grumbling as we approached the stadiums. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this. Parallel world, magic powers, it's all crazy. How could any of it be true? We're probably driving to a Jim Jones style cult where we'll all be brainwashed into believing this nonsense. The worst part is I got my son into this mess with me."
Bem menaced my brother from the back seat. "Shut-up, Joe, I'm not going to warn you again."
"Or what?" Joe asked. He obviously felt safe in the crowded vehicle. "There's nothing you could do to me that would bother me at all compared to what I think is about to happen."
"Don't count on that." Bem menaced some more.
We'd crossed the Girard Point on the upper deck, and I got off the highway onto Broad Street to turn around as Joe's monologue reached its most aggravating pitch. "Pull over here." Joe pointed his finger at the dark city street. "Andy and I will get a cab home and the rest of you can...you can go to your other world or your cult or straight to perdition for all I care."
I gritted my teeth and growled because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't pull over. I also didn't yell. I knew that shouting wouldn't help the situation, but I didn't know what would. Bem, dear, sweet, wonderful Bem came to my rescue in a way that I never would have thought of. "Andy," Bem spoke into the front seat, "what's your father's problem? I don't care what you promised Shawn. I want you to use your magic right now and tell us what's going on."
Andy craned his head to look at his father who was jammed against his side. Joe deliberately averted his eyes out the passenger side window to avoid having his mind read. Apparently, Andy's power didn't need eye contact like Joe's did because Joe's averted gaze didn't stop Andy from reading his mind. "He's scared," Andy announced, "like, really, really, really, scared. He doesn't think we're going to a cult, but he doesn't know what to expect and...it's about control. He feels like Uncle Church has taken over his life and mine and he's afraid of what that might mean."
Joe spun his head from the window to glare at Andy. Andy tried to offer some support. "It'll be OK, Dad." My nephew reassured his father.
Joe refused to be reassured. "YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" He shouted at his son.
I completed my Broad Street U-turn and was accelerating up the ramp onto 95 North when I decided to speak. "JOE, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BELIEVE?" I shouted.
"BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T PROVEN ANY OF THIS!" He shouted back.
I'd steadied our speed at fifty-five miles an hour as we entered the lower deck of the bridge. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself and adjusted my voice to a less angry level. "Give it one minute, Joe."
"Yes, and for that minute, SHUT THE `F' UP!" Mary shouted.
Shawn activated the catalyst and a flare of white light started small and grew until it filled the windshield, dazzling all the occupants. It winked out, and when our eyes adjusted, the Vic's headlights were illuminating the mountain road on Solum where Shawn and I had been just over two weeks previously. I bumped my shoulder against Shawn. "You OK?" I asked.
"Yes, everything's fine." He said.
I heaved a breath and felt like I'd exhaled all the tension in my body. "Well Joe, do you believe me now?"
"I have to, don't I?" He replied in his usual manner.
"WELCOME TO SOLUM EVERYONE!"