Job Satisfaction – The Aftermath
It had been two months since that awful day, sixty days of reliving the desperation and hopelessness he felt when he held Aaron's body. He could still feel the touch of his hair on his face, the brush of his cooling skin against his own, his dark and beautiful eyes devoid of expression.
Spencer couldn't bear it. He longed to sleep and dream good things, make dreams reality and this heart breaking reality become untruth.
But each time his consciousness drifted into sleep, he was trapped in a never ending loop of grief. He couldn't even hold the memory of Aaron's death. He died alone.
Spencer sat in the living room of the Castle. It was coming up to sunrise, and he closed his eyes and felt Aaron's head once again on his lap. Aaron's last CD was playing 'Oh L'Amour' and Spencer choked and tears forced their way through his tightly closed eyes.
'What's a boy in love supposed to do?'
Aaron, oh Aaron! How can I live without you, my love? Where are you now? I want to believe! Please, God, make me believe!
Spencer had imagined all the tears that he could cry had been cried, but the fountain was everlasting, and his face was wet. He stood up, and still hugging the cushion, he went upstairs.
All Aaron's clothes were where he'd left them. Spencer picked up a shirt from the floor and held it to his face. He could still smell Aaron's scent and his tears fell anew, soaking the shirt and washing away what remained of the man he loved and always would. He threw himself on the bed and howled and wept for the one thing he wanted so badly, and could never have.
He thought back to the day before the funeral, when Spencer had brushed Aaron's hair for him as he lay in the coffin. He had leaned down and kissed Aaron's cold lips and held his cold hand and told him that he loved him. He had said good-bye and covered Aaron's face with his tears. He had fretted about him being in a box, after the trauma Aaron had suffered. In the end, the casket had been left open for the good-byes, and the lid was made of paper. The funeral was, well, awful. All funerals are, you say, but for Spencer, his life ended that day as dirt was shovelled onto Aaron. Spencer couldn't watch the soil hitting the box where Aaron would spend an eternity. He faced away, clinging onto Emily, soaking her dress with his tears. His final collapse as grief drained his feeble strength left him being held up by Emily, who finally had to lay him down on the grass as her own grief overwhelmed her.
Spencer pressed his face into Aaron's pillow and scrunched the shirt against his cheek. and drifted into an exhausted heart broken sleep.
-0-0-0-
He never slept for long these days. When the doorbell rang an hour later, he was already drifting up into that quasi sleep, hovering on the verge of wakefulness.
He sat on the bed and wiped his face on Aaron's shirt, and carried it down stairs to the front door. There were very few people he would answer the door to, but one of those people was standing outside now. He blinked back the tears and opened the door.
She had had her hair cut since he last saw her. The fringe suited her, made her look pretty and much younger. He stepped back and she entered the hall.
"It's been a while since I saw you. I really needed to stop by." She touched his face, damp and pale. "I've come to cry with you. I didn't want to cry on my own any more."
As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes, and she reached out her arms. Spencer drew her close and they stood in the hall and cried on each other.
"I c-can't...live...live without him, Emily." he sobbed. "P-please help me."
She led him to the couch and held his head against her shoulder, and felt him shake in misery as her own body trembled, and they cried together.
"When did you last eat?" she asked, distressed at how thin and sick he looked.
"I c-can't remember." he whispered shakily.
"I'll get you something." she said, and unwrapped her arms from him. "I'll check, see what you have."
Spencer sat with his face in his hands, Emily went to the kitchen. Most of the food had gone bad, but there were some eggs, so she made an omelette. She looked out of the window onto the terrace, and the wild garden beyond. The sun was blazing, although all the curtains in the Castle were closed, and it was dark indoors. She pulled up the blind, and opened the back door onto the terrace. When the eggs were done, she put them on two plates, and took them outside. She made tea with long life milk she found in the cupboard, and took that outside too. Then she went back to Spencer.
He was still sitting as she left him, but he wasn't crying now.
"I've made us something to eat. We can eat outside, it's a lovely day." She regretted her choice of words – could any day be really lovely, with the pain of loss still so raw – but Spencer didn't seem to notice, and when she took his hand, he stood up and followed her onto the terrace.
"We had a special place, you know." Spencer suddenly said. "Will you come with me, Emily? I don't think I could do it alone." He was pushing his food around the plate, but he had eaten some, and Emily was pleased.
"Of course. I would be honoured." she answered softly. "Just say when."
"Now. Please, I need to go now." He stood up and went back indoors, Emily followed him. She picked up her keys.
"Would you like me to drive, Spence? You can direct me."
Spencer nodded and went out of the front door. Emily went back and locked the back door, and followed Spencer onto the drive.
"Car's unlocked." she said, getting in, and Spencer sat beside her.
On the way, Spencer asked Emily to stop at a shop and He went in and bought some flowers.
"I'll leave them for him." he said, getting back in the car. They were highly scented, and he smelled them and smiled. The smile was lovely.
It was s short drive, and Emily pulled up in a small car park among the trees. They got out, Spencer clutching the flowers with one hand, Emily's hand with the other. She wondered if he even realised he was holding her hand. He needed the comfort, she was happy to give it.
They walked for a while through the trees, and then he stopped.
"Here it is." Spencer said, and carefully laid the flowers at the base of the tree. He stood and ran his fingers across the lettering crudely carved on the bark.
"We did this a long time ago." Spencer said, tears falling again. "It was such fun. Aaron kept a look out while I wrote his name, then I watched as he wrote mine." Spencer smiled through the tears. "He complained that my name has more letters!" Spencer smiled at the memory. "Then we sat under the tree 'til it got dark. It was a wonderful day. I'll never forget it."
Emily stood beside him and touched the letters. It was a permanent mark of Aaron's existence, and it was beautiful.
Emily took Spencer in her arms, and they cried together on each other. Then Spencer touched the tree again.
"Good-bye, Babe, where ever you are, be happy."
He turned to Emily. "Can we go now?"
She nodded, and took his hand, and together, they walked back to the car.
-0-0-0-
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. From the television show The Wonder Years