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A man says a few words. I hear a muffled cry. It’s Yeleen who can’t hold back her tears anymore and collapses against TJ. The latter turns his face towards me and finally sees me. His eyes are red. He nods gently as if silently thanking me for being there. I nod my head back and then turn my attention back to Tucker. He doesn’t move an inch. I want to approach him, but I don’t dare. I’m afraid of his reaction.
The minutes pass silently. He doesn’t show any expression, but from time to time, his jaw contracts and it looks like he is holding his breath. Finally, the most painful stage arrives. Debbie’s coffin is gradually lowered into the ground.
Tucker steps forward, bends down to the upturned earth, takes a handful, straightens up, and drops it on the white wood. His features are hard, but his look does not lie anymore. He expresses all the pain that eats away at him and will continue to eat him up for a long time. His mother follows his lead and I can only wonder how will her madness evolve? She seems strangely lucid today.
Other people do the same. I stand back, not knowing if I should participate. Tucker hasn’t noticed me yet, or maybe he has but he doesn’t care. The ceremony is coming to an end. They all start to walk away. Tucker suddenly looks up, and his eyes meet mine. I try to give him my silent support, but I’m met with a wall. No expression from him.
The next second, he heads in the opposite direction of me. It’s raining more and more, and my vision is getting blurred little by little. I try to follow his steps, but the rest of the group is between him and me. By the time I cross the lawn without jostling anyone, Tucker is gone. I see his pickup truck drive away. And disappear.
“Damn it,” I mutter through my teeth.
I’m starting to feel cold, soaked to the bone. I turn around to return to my own vehicle. Yeleen is being held by TJ, who is taking her to her own car. I start to follow the same path as them but stop at the last moment. Everyone has left, even Tucker’s mother.
But a new person has just arrived.
Dan.
His back is to me, though I recognize his massive shoulders and shaved head. He’s staring at the hole in the ground, his head down. My teeth are chattering—I’ll probably be sick as a dog—but I can’t ignore him. Not when I can imagine all the pain he must be feeling.
I cross the muddy lawn again and approach Debbie’s grave. Dan tenses at my arrival but does not turn to me. I stand beside him, as silent as he is. I glance at him and notice his red eyes. Even through the smell of wet grass, I can smell the alcohol coming from him. He’s as soaked as I am but seems completely weathertight.
“Are you okay?” I whisper between my lips.
Stupid. Do you really think he’s okay? He lost the person he loved most in the world, of course he’s not okay.
He doesn’t respond. In fact, he doesn’t even react, as if he doesn’t see me. I move a little closer to him, as if the faint heat emanating from my body could wake him up and help him. But he still doesn’t say anything, staring at the grave with his tired, bloodshot eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dan. So sorry,” I whisper, looking back at the grave. I know he’s locked in a dark room right now, and will be for a long time, but I hope that one day he’ll find the key to get out.
Like I tried to do. After a minute of silence, I slowly walk away.
“It’s his fault.”
I freeze. Did he speak or am I going crazy? I turn to him, eyebrows raised, unsure. “Did you say something?”
His face turns towards me and his features crack. He no longer seems indifferent. His eyes are as sad as ever, but he seems overcome with hatred. “I said, ‘It’s his fault.’”
I frown, confused. “I don’t understand…”
He stares at me for a few seconds but says nothing. Finally, he walks away without turning around once. He also disappears from my sight and I find myself alone in the middle of this cemetery.
***
Sitting in the center of the lecture hall, I scan the rows around me. No sign of Tucker. No sign of him. He’s not responding to my text, or my calls. I know he needs space and time. I try to give him some while reminding him that I’m here for him. I’ve been there, I know how hard it is.
How tempting it is to get lost in the darkness. It’s true, it’s so much fun to stay in the dark rather than be blinded by the light. But light is essential to our lives. It drives out demons.
Our demons.
But Tucker isn’t here. Richards explains several morbid cases that took place in Miami in the 1990s. I listen with one ear, preoccupied with so many other things.
Finally, the class ends. I pick up my papers, on which I have not written anything down, and walk quickly down the stairs.
“Miss Foster!” someone yells behind me.
I brake abruptly. and a student nearly runs into me.
“Watch out, damn it.”
