Henri's Tears
Henri Dubé was just finishing the end of his 10 hour shift at Arnie's. He locked up the diner and headed home, thinking eagerly about how he would celebrate Sébastien's return home. As he started up the fire escape, Henri passed by an empty police car. Frowning slightly, he pulled up memories from a few nights ago, when Sébastien had called to forget why he lived in such a dangerous part of town. It wasn't until he saw a pair of officers standing at his door when his heart began to pound.
"'Allo?" he said tentatively.
"Are you the resident of this apartment?" said the male officer.
"Yes…I'm Henri Dubé." He felt even more uncomfortable when the pair shared a glance and then gazed back at him.
"Would you mind letting us in?" Nodding, he slipped in between them and fumbled with sticking his key in the lock, revealing the tiny space within. Henri gestured at the sitting area- a couch and two folding chairs set up around a small table. It also doubled as a dining room.
They all sat down, declining his offer of tea. "Mr. Dubé, you have a son right?"
"Sébastien. He's coming home tonight, he was playing tennis in England. I have a feeling he won," said Henri, grinning.
Leaning in, the female officer forced a small smile. "He did win. I heard he and his friend cleaned up over in Hampstead."
Henri now looked a bit confused, but managed to keep the smile up on his face. "His friend…Megan? Want to know a secret?" The police people nodded assent slowly. "He asked her out a few days ago. He called, you know? He's a good son."
The female officer now looked incredibly distressed, and the male one had taken in a breath, keeping his head down. "Yea…a good son. Mr. Dubé…there was an accident."
"What?" the smile slid off his face.
"He and Ms. O'Connor- Megan- were flying back here,"
"Were flying back?"
"Sir…please. No one knows what happened yet but…"
"But what!" Henri stood up, gazing at the two people before him.
"The plane went down in the Atlantic. Mr. Dubé, I'm so sorry…Sébastien and Megan didn't make it."
He was smiling now, almost maniacally. "What do you mean, they didn't make it?"
The male officer spoke up now. "He's gone, sir."
Henri turned away when they tried to get him to sit. "No. Not Séb, he's mine, he won, we were going to…going to…my God." He paced the apartment, pulling at his hair and tears streaming down his face.
"We're so sorry. Is there someone who can help you?"
"No! There's no one here! My wife…my wife is gone. She left me too." He fixed the pair, now standing, with a desperate stare.
As the silence filled between them, a dull voice buzzed out from their walkie-talkies. Awkwardly, the male pointed at it and said, "We have- we have to go." They trekked out the door with a final sympathetic glance at Henri. "We're sorry."
Mr. Dubé just stared at the door with wide eyes, before grabbing his coat and running out the door.