I'm in the middle of writing a PureJoy when I take a break and browse some CSI photos. I was struck by a shot of Paul Guilfoyle, aka Jim Brass. I think it is from the episode after Sara left, but I am not sure. Anyway, Brass is sitting there, not saying a word and saying so much. It is a powerful picture and speaks volumes about what a fantastic actor PG is. That photo inspired this little piece. I wouldn't call it enjoyable...perhaps you can appreciate it?
PAULGUILFOYLEISAWESOMEPAULGUILFOYLEROCKS!
Faces. There were so many faces; too many. I looked from face to face as I held my child in my arms, my lifeless angel. He had been killed when a stray bullet from a drug deal gone bad flew through the window and hit him in the chest.
Blood. So much blood. A paramedic tried to help my little one. But Zack was beyond help, so I pushed the man away and held my baby close.
My baby. Not really a baby any more. He died two days after his fifteenth birthday. But he would always be my baby.
Something was making my face wet. The paramedic handed me a cloth to wipe it dry. It was then that I realized I was the one crying. Those sobs belonged to me.
Some of the faces looked at my baby, a few looked at me. Some couldn't look at all.
Then they began to leave, some of them anyway. A few remained, watching. I was aware of them but they seemed to be on the other side of a glass…outside looking in. Then there was movement. The sea of faces parted as another entered.
This face seemed different. It looked intently. It looked at me and it looked at my baby. This face saw what the others did not see.
The face was almost round with a firm jaw that needed a shave. The nose at the center looked like it had seen a few too many fights as it sat below his grey-blue eyes. There were lines around his nose and mouth that suggested a familiarity with laughter. But he wasn't laughing.
The other faces looked at us and saw facts…a dead boy and a distraught mother. This face saw more. His eyes closed briefly as he exhaled, defeated. Opening his eyes, he focused on me. I knew instantly that he understood in a way the others didn't. He saw the loss…felt the futility. He understood that my future had flowed out onto the floor with my son's blood. He knew. He felt the opposing forces of heartache and numbness. He felt my loss. He felt it as if it were his own.
Our eyes met and there was understanding, his blue mirrors reflecting my pain. The face held so many lines, some of laughter and good times but too many spoke of grief and despair. I would soon wear those lines too, I realized. His hair seemed to be running from the lines, receding up and away from the furrows of his forehead; the darkness of his cropped hair framing the sides of his face, framing the sorrow. I knew he understood.
He had a face that had seen hard times, yet as I looked into those eyes, I found tenderness. Such great tenderness… and beauty. They were beautiful because they said what all the words in the world could never express; they spoke of an understanding…a unity of the soul; a shared agony. He said nothing and yet shared so much.
Faces. Too many faces when there was only one that mattered. I didn't know his name; had never seen him before, yet in that moment he was my strength, my courage. He understood.
Slowly I relaxed, relinquishing my child…the body of my child. His soul, all that made him my son, was gone from this earth. I could do it because those eyes understood. One set of eyes, one face among so many. All it took was one, the right one. His.
PGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPGPG
Good? Bad? You hated it? If there are no reviews I guess that means you didn't care for it. Please let me know what you think.
PS: Reviewers are asking about the pic. I found it on the CSI website under photos. It is from Episode 807 and is pic 35, I think. The pic reminded me of the scene which I thought was very powerful. PG gave us one of those "wow" moments that he does so well.