Maybe I'll write a happy 7th Heaven fiction one day…but considering I'm not a fan of happy fan fictions (unless they have lots of comedy), the odds of that are slim and none. :]
By the way: I'm not a much of a T-Bone fan, but meh, I'll get to him later.
Outside Heaven
Chapter 2
My Father's Eyes
Ruthie broke away from her mother to dispose of "it" as soon as she could. Slowly, she crept down the staircase, only to overhear her brother-in-law and sister's voices. Even though they no longer lived at home, they felt the need to walk in whenever they pleased at any random hour of the day. Ruthie had caught Kevin sneaking food out of their refrigerator at one o'clock in the morning because Lucy had a "craving" and they didn't have the supplies at home.
"Lucy, I really don't think it's a good idea that you give the funeral, I know you're grieving and you feel like you had some part in his death…" Kevin was telling Lucy, "I just feel that all of this is adding so much stress on you and our baby, I just don't want another tragedy." Everyone in the family was concerned about Lucy and her baby; she was four months pregnant with her second baby, even though it was her third pregnancy. Last summer had ended in tragedy when she had a miscarriage with the twin boys she was carrying. Nobody in the family wanted a repeat of last summer. Their father's death had been too much for all of them, and Ruthie knew when they all heard her news more tragedy would break out.
"I can handle it, I owe it to him; I feel like I was destined to give the sermon! I highly doubt giving the sermon is going to add anymore stress on my plate that isn't already there, as if losing my father isn't hard enough!" Lucy shrieked. Ruthie was no longer the only one "listening" in on their conversation. She looked up to find her mother now standing right above her.
"Snooping, are we?" her mother accused.
"Nah, I don't think Lucy and Kevin have anything to hide, otherwise they wouldn't be so amplifying," Ruthie indicated. She needed to get out to the trash can outside, but with her mother supervising her and her brother and sister in the kitchen it wouldn't be an easy task. She wished it were garbage day, so she could just "take out the trash." Who says I can't take out the trash anyway? Ruthie wondered to herself.
She mobilized herself into the kitchen, coming face to face with Kevin, who was holding Savannah, and Lucy. Neither of them spoke when she entered, they just became very quiet. Ever since their father's death everyone had become really quiet when they had been discussing him and someone else would walk in on them. Ruthie simply ignored them and made her way towards the trash can and began to tie the trash bag.
"What are you doing?" Kevin finally asked. "Trash day is not until Friday, and the garbage can is barely half full."
"It's never too early to take out the trash," Ruthie pointed out confidently.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Kevin had to butt in his "brotherly" voice. Ruthie often despised when Kevin tried to take her brother's place. He wasn't Matt and he wasn't Simon. Kevin seemed to think that he was Matt, though, seeing as he had moved in the year that Matt moved out. It wasn't that she didn't like Kevin, she thought he was a great guy—just an annoying great guy who wasn't ever going to take the place of her older brothers.
"No, not really," Ruthie smiled and walked out the door with the trash bag in her arms. Rapidly, she made her way to the trash can and dumped the trash and the pregnancy test along with it. She made sure to open the trash bag up when she got out there to cover the pregnancy test up. Hopefully they don't go snooping, Ruthie heaved a sigh.
She managed to walk around to the front of the house to avoid running into Kevin and Lucy again in the kitchen. It was only two, which meant there would be another three hours before they were going to pick up the rest of the family at the airport. Ruthie didn't know if she could hold off that long, she needed Matt. Even so, she doubted she would be able to get him alone tonight. She would wait until after the funeral to stir up more problems. That was it, she could hold off until after the funeral.
She passed the twins' room on her way back up to the attic. The twins had been taking their fathers' death the lightest of all. Yet, they had been the hardest for any of them to explain to that their father had left Earth. They seemed to understand that he had gone to heaven and was in a better place. Gallantly, they had been chirping around the house singing that, "Daddy is in Heaven!" Ruthie wondered how long it would take to sink into them that they would never see their father again during their Earthly years.
When she peeked in on the boys, she saw them each kneeling with their heads bowed and their hands folded over their bed praying, "Dear God, we just wanted to say Hi to our dad, we're happy he's in Heaven with you, take care of him please." They were so innocent and oblivious to the world, watching them gave hope to Ruthie. She remembered when she was a little girl and had such an innocent view on life. Childhood reminded her of a lamb, pure and white. As one aged they became experienced and knowledgeable that the world wasn't all "good." They started to see the fire orange in life, which made it not so pure. That little lamb would transform to a vicious tiger. Two poems by William Blake, The Lamb and The Tyger, from Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience explained Ruthie's feelings towards childhood and adulthood very efficiently.
Ruthie found herself continuing slowly up the stairs. She ended up lying on her bed staring at the ceiling daydreaming about how what a terrible person she was. Her mind drifted …
"Crap," she heard T-Bone's voice come from the bathroom. They had just finished and Ruthie was sore, she hadn't thought Lucy was actually serious when she said her first time was a bit painful, she thought Lucy had just been telling her that so she wouldn't have sex.
"What's wrong, T?" Ruthie called, she peeked downstairs to make sure nobody was home, which they weren't. Then she put her ear against the bathroom door listening for T-Bone.
"I think it broke."
"What broke?" Ruthie's heart pounded.
"The condom," was all she heard until her mouth dropped.
"B-b-before o-o-or a-a-a-after?" Ruthie stuttered.
"I don't know! It was my first time as well!" cried T-Bone. He had told her he had done it before, she thought he was experienced; he would be careful. He was a liar.
Ruthie dashed back up to the attic and dove into her bed in a cold sweat, tears began rolling down her eyes, she said to herself, "Everything will be alright, how many girls get pregnant their first time?" She didn't know the answer to that, but she knew according to sex education classes that the odds were just as great the first time as the tenth time.
After that day, she pushed everything to the back of her head for many weeks—until three days ago, when she received the news of her father's death, she noticed she was late.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing. Sitting up, she reached for the multi-colored phone that had once been Mary and Lucy's, but had been passed down to her when they flew the coop—well, Lucy never really "flew the coop", she just "flew the room."
"Hello," she whispered into the phone.
"Ruthie?" her brother, Simon's, voice cracked through her ear. "How are you holding up?"
"How do you think I'm holding up?" she snapped. He doesn't know either, Ruthie reminded herself. Simon hadn't been there for her or the rest of the family over the course of the last three years of their lives. He had been so self-conceited and all about himself after he killed that boy. Like I killed my father, Ruthie remembered. Of course, Simon had physically killed the boy—had Simon not been driving, that boy would still be alive.
"Ruthie, you're not the only one grieving!" Simon cried. "How do you think I feel? I added pressure to his already weak heart over the course of the last two years by having sex, almost getting married to Rose, and everything else I did. At least you haven't done anything to add pressure to Dad; yes, we all know you got a tattoo, but seriously?" Everyone in the family has tattoos; even Mom and Dad had one, that didn't add any pressure to him. Lucy and Matt had both told her about their tattoos; as well as Mary and Simon's. Mary and Simon didn't know she knew about their tattoos-at least not to her knowledge. She had found out about her parents' tattoos a more complicated way; snooping.
She couldn't talk to him; in fact, she didn't think she could talk to anybody—besides Matt. Ruthie slammed the phone on the hook and lied back on her bed crossing her arms. She grabbed her pillow and smothered her face. Too bad I just couldn't suffocate myself, she sighed, No, I cannot. I must stay alive. My family can't handle another tragedy. Ruthie never pictured herself being capable of becoming suicidal; her life had always been filled with joy and happiness. Now, here she was, thinking about suicide for the first time.
"Ruthie!" her mother's voice called from the bottom of the attic steps. "Who was on the phone?" How did she know I answered it? Are Kevin and Lucy still here? Ruthie wondered.
"It was Simon," Ruthie said, moving to the top of the stairs so she could be face to face with her mother.
"Did he say if he was going to make it in tonight?"
Great. I didn't even think to hold him on the phone for that long, oh well, surely he'll call back. "He didn't say," Ruthie responded.
"Well, you better get ready, it's almost four-thirty and we don't want to be late picking up everyone at the airport," her mother told her.
It's already almost four-thirty! Where did the time go! Ruthie was in shock. She remembered the days when she was a child, they seemed to last forever. Now at seventeen they seemed to pass by. If she blinked it was like she missed part of the day. She feared how fast life would go when she was twenty-seven or thirty-seven or older yet. The most frightening aspect of life, she decided, was how fast and short it was.
She washed her face and put on a little eye-liner. Truthfully, she didn't know "who" she had to impress, regardless, she wanted to look nice in public. Even her family rarely saw her without makeup, and she figured she didn't wear it they would become suspicious. Of course, she could just say she didn't feel obligated because T-Bone was out of town, but she would pass. T-Bone had been scheduled to go tour a campus that he planned on going to college to today for weeks, Ruthie was going to go with him—but that all changed when her father died. He had insisted on staying back and postponing this visit until a later date, but Ruthie insisted that he go—her father would have wanted him to go. He was scheduled return later this evening.
Ruthie wasn't even sure she wanted to go to college anymore. She had been accepted to three colleges, including Crawford, and had been procrastinating until the college visit to make a final decision. Now that her father was dead and she was pregnant—that word was still hard for her to think—matters changed.
Fifteen minutes later her mother and she arrived in separate cars at the airport. On their journey to the desk to ask if the flight from New York was in, they were told, "I'm sorry for your loss" by five different people. Ruthie hadn't realized how many people in this city her father had helped, yes, she knew he had helped many—but never had she believed that many. Everywhere she went several people had known her father; everyone was saying they were sorry, which seemed to only make her feel worse.
Ruthie didn't understand how here she had been her whole life trying to help others and comfort them in horrible situation, but then when people tried to comfort her it only made her feel worse. Every, "I'm sorry" Ruthie heard made her throat knot up and tears swell up her eyes. She wasn't sure how much more "comfort" she could handle before she exploded entirely.
She wanted to remain "strong" in public, particularly for her mother. It was hard for her, considering she knew about the hormones that were going on inside her body. Sometimes, she would just be sitting there thinking of nothing and start crying. When she cried, so did everyone else around her. Everyone would assume she was crying about her father, and possibly maybe she was. Or maybe she was crying because of it.
"Excuse me?" her mother asked the man standing at the desk, "Could you tell me if the flight from New York is in? It was due in at five, and now it's five-ten."
"Let me see," the man spoke, looking at his computer data, "It looks like the plane was delayed for thirty minutes flying over Chicago because of some heavy storms out in the Midwest, they should be here in about a half hour or so."
"Thank you," she responded. They found themselves sitting down and waiting. A small Vietnamese boy that couldn't be older than five whom Ruthie had never seen before came up and gave her mother a hug.
"I'm sorry for your loss," the boy spoke, behind him a tall blond haired woman followed.
"We truly are sorry," the woman spoke, "Your husband helped my husband and me get acquainted with a great adoption agency in Vietnam when we could not conceive and all of the adoption agencies here had long lists, now here we have Nicky—the biggest blessing of our lives."
"Thank you," her mother spoke holding back tears, "I am happy for you and your family, you truly are blessed to have little Nicky here in your lives and I'm sure Eric would be happy for you too."
"We are very grateful for your husband, the world will never be the same without him, he truly made a difference in many lives," the woman assured.
"Yes, he did, and I'm sure he is looking down on us all right now thankful that he was appreciated."
"You had a great husband, so few men like him are out there, be grateful," the woman hugged her mother, who had tears rolling down her eyes.
Ruthie found her mind trailing off. My father was a great man, how did he end up with a screw up daughter like me? Ruthie sighed, I can't believe they thought Mary was the family screw up—she never got pregnant outside of wedlock. She wondered why the plane had to be delayed, she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold off talking to Matt, she knew she had promised herself she would wait until after the funeral—she wasn't sure how well she would hold that off.
She wouldn't tell him she was pregnant right off the back, she would let him guess. Surely he would do that—he was a doctor after all. He and Sarah were nearing the end of their first year of residency up in New York vicinity. Of course, having twin boys hadn't made their work situation entirely easy. Fortunately for them, they had moved next door to a very friendly elderly neighbor who just adored the boys and would watch them for free. Ruthie hadn't even seen their twins yet, she was looking forward to meeting them—they were ten months old now. She just wished she was seeing them under better circumstances.
As Ruthie became alert to her surroundings again she realized music was playing in the background. She became aware of the lyrics in this particular stanza:
As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
I looked into my father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
She closed her eyes and saw her father's pale blue eyes staring back at her. He would always be there with her, she remembered when her Grandma Jenny had died and Simon had gone around asking where Heaven was. Nobody knew how to answer him except Ruthie.
Wearing her plaid blue dress, Ruthie, being only a small and four, ran up the stairs to meet Simon sitting on the stairs. "What are we doing?" she asked a ten year old blond Simon.
"I'm thinking," Simon responded resting his chin in his hand.
"About what?" Ruthie asked innocently.
"No one seems to know where you go when you die," Simon told her shaking his head.
Ruthie rested her face in her hand and said, "Oh. I know."
Simon turned to her and squished up his face and said, "You don't either" and turned away sulking.
"Mhm!" Ruthie had insisted back.
"Okay, where!" Simon demanded.
"I don't know the name of it but it's where I was before I was born," Ruthie spoke softly.
"You were in Mommy's stomach!" Simon declared.
"No! Before that!" Ruthie cried.
"I don't know where that is," Simon told her. "I can't picture Grandma there."
"Picture Grandma here," Ruthie told him placing her hand on his heart. "In your heart." An "ah-hah" moment occurred for Simon as he realized that their grandmother would always be in his heart.
Her father would always be in her heart, having him in her heart wouldn't change the fact she had done what she had done. She was a wretched person who deserved to live in Hell. Ruthie contemplated about what people would say about her when she died.
"Oh that Ruthie Camden, she had great parents, she was so adorable when she was little, but somehow once she hit puberty she went all wrong. It's hard to believe they once expected great things from her."
"They thought her sister Mary was bad, but hey at least she didn't end up pregnant at seventeen, even she graduated college."
"Ruthie Camden…let's just say the world is better off without her."
Ruthie sulked deep down in her chair, looking away into the distance pretending to be focusing on something far away. She hoped the plane would land soon so she could avoid confrontation with her mother.
Notes/Credits:
: The Lamb and The Tyger are poems by William Blake that I wrote an analytical essay on for English.
:: The lyrics are from My Father's Eyes by Eric Clapton.
::: The flashback of Ruthie and Simon is from Season One, No Funerals and a Wedding