Hey everyone!
I know I'm running low on excuses, but once again I'm sorry for the wait. Finals and graduation are rapidly beginning to eat my alive, but the good news is that there is a light at the end of the tunnel; I'm done with school on May 24 and after that, my entire summer is at your leisure. I also had kind of a tough time writing this chapter so that definitely didn't help…
The good news is, I'm pulling an all-nighter tonight studying Organic Chemistry and have since deemed this more important so here's a nice little 3:30 a.m. chapter for all of you other insomniacs (or else just people in different time zones) out there.
Noah's up next, I know a lot of you have been waiting for his go, just had to get this chapter out of the way first, it will play an important role for Noah (and for the rest of them too) down the line.
Cheers.
Hiram Corcoran – March 2001
He can barely see what's in front of him anymore.
The last couple of weeks have become nothing short of the same…
Hiram will find himself nose deep inside of a bar before the sun sets, and with each passing day, will be forcibly removed earlier and earlier into the evening… After that, he's left with nothing more than an attempt to live in the moment just long enough for him to sober up and remember everything that he had since given up in the first place.
And repeat cycle.
Hiram Corcoran finds himself inching closer and closer towards the home that he has left behind with each passing day, but it takes him an entire two weeks before he can finally muster up the courage to work his way up to the front door.
He fumbles briefly with the key ring splayed between his palms, its various array of devices jangling slightly between unsteady fingers as the mid afternoon sun beats painfully down against his back.
As if he needed any more of a reminder towards how he is waking up every single morning inside of a brand new life that he has since learned to hate.
The briefest of fears courses through the length of his spine towards the idea that Shelby may have chosen to change the locks since his departure.
He shouldn't be here… He knows that he shouldn't be here, which is how is more than completely certain that Shelby does too…
Hiram Corcoran knows his wife well enough to know that the mother would adhere to any means necessary to ensure that Hiram did not exhibit another scene such as that by which he'd displayed in front of Noah, in front of either of their children ever again.
He wouldn't put anything past her in terms of protecting those kids, and although he is unspeakably grateful for this, he can't help but to be pleased when his key slips perfectly inside of the lock, clicking with a satisfying echo that proves that such extreme measures on Shelby's part have yet to be taken.
Hiram brightens slightly alongside the acknowledgment that Shelby has not yet placed the final nail inside of the coffin of their marriage just yet… although he is more than aware that he has no right to be.
"Krista, is that you?"
Hiram freezes as the sound of Shelby's voice echoes across his ears… He is expecting her; of course he is expecting her that is the reason that he had come here at this hour to begin with…
Or so he's convinced himself.
Suddenly, he can't be so certain.
He is suddenly more than aware of the fact that he looks more or less like road kill at this point, that his appearance is remarkably representative of the lost man that he has since become.
The idea that he hasn't been consuming much of anything other than a steady intake of booze in these past weeks is becoming more and more obvious with his rapidly slandering frame exemplified only by the slightly yellowish tint that his skin has since taken to…
The idea that his personal hygiene has not been a profound priority on his to-do-list even more so, based upon the steady stench radiating off of the clothes that he hasn't bothered changing in days that is starting to make even him sick…
He is certain that the only other person in the entirety of this world that can compare to his dishevelment is his wife… They were, after all, the perfect couples, Hiram always said…
Or used to say, anyway…
The only difference between these two at this point, is that Shelby actually has an excuse while him… all he is doing is making the excuses that are beginning to make even his own stomach turn.
She doesn't identify his presence for a long while… He wonders whether or not she even remembers that somebody has walked through the front door at all.
He is halfway to installing alarm systems all about their home when finally she sneaks a brief glance upwards from the array of paperwork splattered out before her against the kitchen table…
Her glasses hang low against the bridge of her nose from having her face pressed so close to the papers along the dining room table, and for the briefest of seconds, she looks calmly towards Hiram and back away once more, back to her work as if there were nothing unusual about the sight before him.
Hiram lingers in the moment, embracing it as he wishes desperately that he could positively freeze time where it was and have it never start up ever again.
Shelby takes her quick, guaranteed double take, confirming everything that she had previously believed herself to have seen upon first glance…
The look of defeat alone glazing across her eyes is enough to have him retreating already and she hasn't even spoken yet… Those callous, hateful words that he knows she is so capable of…
He deserves every single one of them.
"You shouldn't be here, Hiram…" She is surprisingly calm; Hiram can tell that she has been preparing for this inevitable moment to have arrived for the past two weeks…
And while she has been anticipating this moment with a dutifully prepared script and a stony resolve, the only thing that he has been preparing himself with was another bottle… He doesn't know how to respond; the only words that he can think to say slip from his mouth void of the barricade that a steady stream of alcohol simply cannot maintain…
"You were right about me, Shelby…" He mutters softly under his breath, but she hears it anyway… She always hears it.
"You're drunk," It's not a question but a statement… Hiram can only shake his head; for once in these past weeks, he is finally sober and that it seems, is the problem.
"No," Shelby hesitates… She knows that there is no reason for him to lie anymore; he has already been caught in all of them already, "I'm sorry that I wasted all of your time, Shelby."
"You need to leave, Hiram…" Her voice isn't as confident the second time around; Shelby has always had a soft spot for the broken… Hiram know this, it is how he had managed to grab a hold of her to begin with.
"I want to see them." The involuntary slurring of his words emphasizing the end of his sentence doesn't play into his case particularly well; he knows this yet still, he has a moment in which he is foolish enough to believe that maybe, Shelby might have missed it.
"No," Her voice is firm and confident once more, "Not like this."
"They're still my kids, Shelby!" He finds his voice rising despite the idea that this will not convince her to allow him to see his children any faster. "I still have the right to be their father!"
"We both know that that isn't always good enough, Hiram..." She silences him instantly in her uncanny ability to do quiet him in a manner that no other human being alive possessed, "What you want is something that we both know neither of us will have ever again."
"Where are they?" He all but ignores Shelby's insistencies that his children are no longer any of his business, and he watches her carefully as she offers the heaviest of sighs, removing her glasses and placing them gently down against the table before she stands in an effort to meet him at the center of the room…
She's several inches shorter than him yet still, her stature manages to present as intimidating.
"That's none of your business…" She shakes her head firmly as if to solidify the idea that she is not going to be easily willing to reveal the location of their children… Hiram wonders if Shelby is aware that his intentions are purely informational; that it took everything that he had inside of him just to bring up the courage to visit Shelby…
She should know that he would never be able to dig out of his cowardice enough to face either of his children any time soon.
He wonders what kind of human being this makes him but he tries not to think like this… He is not certain that he wants the answer.
"You can't keep me from them forever, Shelby…" He tries not to admit to the silent notion that he is secretly glad that she is…
Staying away from him, staying far away from him is what is best for his children right now… And contraire to popular belief, there still is a piece of that father somewhere still inside of him that wants nothing more than what is best for those kids.
"You're keeping yourself from seeing them…" The way that she says this tells Hiram that Shelby knows that he knows this just as much as he does, "You need to get yourself cleaned up Hiram… Look at you, you're a mess."
"Please," He begs for something, anything that can keep him going for at least one more day because he is more than certain that without it, this will be impossible, "Just tell me where they are."
"Noah is at school…" Shelby finally sighs in her response only after several seconds of silence in which she debates her response inside of her head, "Carole is dropping him off at baseball practice and Rachel… Rachel isn't going anywhere anytime soon, Hiram… She's still right where you left her."
"Does she know?" Hiram's head hangs in shame towards the mere idea of their four year old struggling to distinguish why it is that she never sees her mother and father together anymore… Why she doesn't see her father at all anymore while stuck inside of the confines of the hospital,
"Noah has an idea…" Shelby sighs and Hiram can't help but to think back to their initial outburst to begin with, which Noah had been unfortunately present for, "Rachel doesn't, but she's starting to ask why her daddy isn't coming around to see her anymore…"
"What have you been telling her?" Hiram cringes; he is terrified of the answer.
"That her dad has been very busy lately…" Shelby sighs towards the lameness of the excuse, "Out daughter isn't a stupid girl, Hiram… I can't keep lying to her forever. But she doesn't need this right now, Hiram… Neither of them do…"
"Don't blame yourself, Shelby…" Hiram insists, but she merely shakes her head as if to indicate that she doesn't although Hiram knows that somewhere, deep down inside, she does, "It's not your fault… You know as well as I do that you can't bring something back to life once it dies."
He watches as his wife stiffens in her response to his words… He curses himself immediately for his insensitivity… He should know that to so much as mention the notion of death inside of this house has since become taboo… It is an idea that none of them can face.
For the first time throughout the entirety of their conversation, the stony wall that Shelby has since built falters behind her eyes in a sudden, swarming array of tears.
"I'm sorry…"
"I don't," Shelby waves him off immediately; she doesn't want him to continue because if he does, she knows that she will never be able to build himself up again, "Blame myself… I mean."
"Good…" Hiram can only nod.
"Just tell me one thing, Hiram…" She is growing defensive once more; her momentary lapse of emotional control manifesting in an anger that Hiram can tell is beginning to swarm dangerously inside of her head, "Did you ever love me?"
"Of course I did, Shelby… I do," He corrects himself quickly, his eyes sinking as he tries desperately to communicate with her just how much she has continued to warm his heart despite having each and every one of his imperfections laid out on a silver platter before him, "You mean everything, Shelby."
"It just wasn't enough…" Her words are soft; he can see the pain inside of her eyes for the first time upon choosing to truly look into them…
"You wouldn't understand…" He shakes his head; he doesn't know how to explain that he had spent the entirety of their relationship struggling to make up for everything that he had lacked… He can't even describe it to himself, how the hell is he expected to explain it to anybody else?
"Then make me, Hiram!" Her voice is beginning to tremble in its emotion… It shakes Hiram down to his very core, forces him to confront just how few answers he truly does have, "Please help me understand why you kept me in the dark for ten years, why you decided to put me through all of this knowing full well that it could never last forever."
"I'll never be able to give you an explanation, Shelby…" He admits, "Not one that would justify what I did to you or Noah or Rachel anyway… I was selfish, Shelby, I was wrong I know that… But please, you have to believe me when I tell you how much I loved you… How much I do love you." He considers his answer carefully, "You gave me the two greatest things that have ever happened to me… They're the only two things that I have ever done right in my entire life."
Shelby's eyes close gently, her headshaking casually back and forth as she tries desperately not to allow for Hiram's words to seep too deeply inside of her very core,, affecting her in a manner that he knows they've always had an uncanny ability to do.
"What do you think the closest that you can come to a total wreck is, Shelby/" He takes advantage of her silence.
"Hiram, don't…" She shakes her head firmly; Hiram can't help but to watch as a tear escapes from behind her closed eyelids and rolls down the length of her cheeks.
"What do you think is the closest that you can come while still being able to walk away from it all?"
"Hiram…" She's begging; it's not a look that is particularly becoming on her, they both know this; but Hiram has an almost disappointing ability to pull it out of her.
"Do you ever wonder if we can exist like the past never happened?" He takes a single step closer towards her; Shelby's muscles quiver slightly with the motion to back away but never actually commits to the movement, "Like there's no such thing as time?"
"I wish, Hiram…" She murmurs, refusing still to open her eyes in order to face him… He thinks that maybe, this is for the best. "I wish that you could stay."
"I can, Shelby…" He assures her; he's leaning closer and closer into her and he knows that she must sense this, but he is relieved when still, she doesn't back away. "Maybe the world can look like this forever."
His lips graze against hers and although she hesitates momentarily, it's only a matter of seconds before she leans into the notion, their bodies interweaving within one another so that for the briefest of seconds, it's almost as if things had retreated back to normal…
Her hands are making their way up his chest and for a second, Hiram is convinced that it's a motion towards bringing him closer towards her until he feels a forceful push, and just as quickly as it has started, he's jolted away from her one more.
"What's wrong?" He asks although he is not entirely certain why he has chosen to address the seemingly obvious… The second he sees the look inside of his wife's eyes, claiming everything that he already knows without actually saying it, he knows that it was the wrong thing to say.
"You need to leave, Hiram…" Her eyes narrow; it's no longer merely a suggestion, but a demand. "Now… If you want to see those kids ever again, you will clean yourself up."
"Right…" He nods slowly; he was expecting just as much, but that didn't make actually hearing it any easier…
He is on his way out; he'd be willing to swear to this much. He is leaving, ready to go back to… well, back to nowhere just like where he came from, he supposes… A flash of vague familiarity catches the corner of his eye and forces him to retreat back…
He isn't even entirely certain how he'd recognized it; nearly five years behind them, represented in nothing more than a slip of paper that he hadn't even had a remarkable part in establishing in the first place.
"What are you doing with Rachel's college fund?" He eyes the bonds that him and his wife had taken out on behalf of their youngest mere days before she had been born… Expanding at but a little over four years, the bond is barely worth a fraction of the core value that eighteen years of keeping it inside of the bank could have provided for their daughter's future, but it doesn't take Hiram very much problem solving, even from inside of his current haze of confusion, to establish her intentions.
"We both know that there's no other way, Hiram…" She confirms for him.
The worst part is that he knows her words to be true
"This is my fault…" He sighs, and he doesn't know which is worse; the idea that he already knows is right, or Shelby making no motion to correct him.
"What are we gonna do when Rachel gets to college?" Shelby's extended silence tells Hiram the last answer that he ever wanted to hear.
"Wake up, Hiram…" Shelby has a lot of opportunity to grow angry at Hiram, at the world as an entire entity, but for the first time, there is pure hostility behind her voice… It makes it surprisingly worse for him to understand that it is not directed towards him in its entirety, "Rachel isn't going to college."
"I'm going to make this better, Shelby…" He promises, but she doesn't sound convinced.
"It's too late for that Hiram," She shakes her head gently. "We aren't the happy family that we used to be. We haven't been in a long time and we're never going to be ever again."
Shelby nods her way out of the kitchen before Hiram can even consider responding just in case he did have anything to say although he didn't… He knows her tactics, he knows that she knows that he will follow her right out and into the open doorway that she is trying to lead him out of… just as she'd anticipated.
There are no questions this time around, there is no reason for him to stall, to keep this up when all it is doing is killing him faster…
This time, when Hiram turns his way out through the front door, he knows that this is it, and for that reason alone, he can't help but to turn back just one, final time.
"Shelby," He breaths, trying to ignore the idea that she is both desperately and blatantly trying to avoid making eye contact with him, "I'm sorry that I couldn't be what you needed."
Her eyes sneak upwards sharply; she offers him no more than one single, curt nod before they turn away once more.
"Me too, Hiram…" She breathes, "Me too."
He'd never lived inside of an actual house before.
The shack that he had grown up inside of could hardly be considered a home, and upon escaping that, broken down, New York City apartments had becomes his mantra.
He can only assume that he had spent all of those years trying to get to where he has always known he should be, and with his three year old clutched inside of his arms as he walks through the first house that he has ever so much as been inside of, let alone owned, he is slowly starting to realize that where he has always known he should be is right here.
"How do you like it, buddy?" He reaches downwards with his free hand, in order to grasp his son's shoulder gently, steadying the boy at his side… Noah is only five years old but already, he is tall enough to reach Hiram's waist… The father is simply grateful that his son had taken after him, and not his mother in terms of height… The boy was going to tower over them all someday.
But for now, Hiram liked him just the way that he was.
"It's huge, daddy…" Noah gapes, his eyes widening as he struggles to take in the entirety of the scene before him as if attempting to replicate a map of the house in its entirety based on his one, initial first impression of its interior, "But why is it all empty inside?"
"We still have to move all of our stuff in…" Hiram explains gently, with a careful patience that can only come with the experience of parenting the world's most curious youngsters.
"And you, little man forgot to move your bag inside of the house." Shelby sweeps behind her family, entering through the open doorway in all of her glory, dangling Noah's plastic Batman backpack accusingly from her hand although her eyes remain impossibly soft, "Even though I curiously remember telling you to make sure you did so…"
"Rachel didn't have to take her bag inside!" Noah grabs his backpack with a huff, draping the straps across his tiny shoulders as he folds his arms across his chest in a manner that imitates his mother to the tee.
"Bag!" Rachel corrects Noah proudly before either of his parents have the opportunity to do so, squirming inside of her father's arms in order to show her brother the tiny, plush backpack shaped like a pair of ballerina slippers…
It is a bag that has been designed for children much older, much larger than his pint-sized three year old… But mere weeks ago now, Rachel had been embellished upon a shopping trip with her father… she had spotted the device from across the mall where she had begun insisting upon it immediately.
And Rachel's sharp personality was already beginning to seep through in the manifestations of her desires. What Rachel wanted, Rachel got and that's all there was to it.
Lord help him and Shelby when she becomes a teenager.
The pink bag could easily fit onto a large dog; it blankets Rachel's tiny frame, weighs her down impossibly with a hunch that Shelby insists is going to give her scoliosis one day… But still, Hiram couldn't help himself; his daughter, after all, held a soft spot inside of his heart that he knew could be occupied by nobody else.
"Daddy, do we get to live high up?" Rachel's relentless ADD sends her babbling… She is just barely beginning to form coherent sentences in her stereotypical, broken three year old English, but still, it is enough to be understood by the father.
"Not this time honey…" Hiram suppresses a laugh as he raises the child up slightly higher inside of his arms… high up.
New York was all Rachel has ever known; a twenty fourth story apartment on the Upper West Side surrounded by buildings none shorter than fifty floors into the air…
Rachel was a big city girl, and she already had big city dreams, this much is certain, but still, Hiram has the slightest feeling that she would find adjusting to the suburbs easy…
They all would.
"I think we've got some tough housing critics, Shelby…" Hiram turns away from his daughter's disappointed pout and towards his wife.
"That's because they're you're kids…" She shoots him a look of playful accusation, hidden behind the faint outlines of a smile.
"Oh… so now they're my kids, huh?" Hiram's voice drops into a low, playful growl as he bends into a squat and sweeps Noah into his free, open arm with one fell swoop, both of his children trapped against his chest within the prison of his gentle arms, squirming for freedom between a mass of giggles, "There's no way that these little monster's can be mine… They've got their mother's guilt written all over their faces."
He transfers the precious load inside of his arms, passing his children along into their mother's grateful, outstretched hands… But Shelby lingers onto them only briefly before she lowers them back down against the ground on her own accord, freeing her arms to snake across her husband's shoulders where she leans in closer and closer until their lips are finally touching…
Hiram can't help but to smile into her skin, pleading for more, save for the reminder that his two children were currently standing directly behind him… He wasn't quite prepared to scar them for life… he was even less prepared to have the inevitable 'where do babies come from' conversation with either one of them…
He pulls abruptly away from Shelby.
"Noah honey, how about you take your sister upstairs to go and pick out your bedroom?" Shelby seems to on the same level as her husband, reading his exact thoughts as she bids for a moment of alone time in a manner that both parents know, their son will feed right into.
"You mean I can pick it myself?" He gapes as planned, eyes widening with approval.
"Of course you can…" Shelby nods in her confirmation, watching carefully as Noah tears through the halls with a howl of delight, tiny feet scampering loudly against the hardwood as he rushes up the length of the stairs faster than Hiram has ever seen the boy move, well… ever.
"Noah, bring your sister with you!" Shelby shouts the reminder but her request falls to selectively deaf ears…
"Rachel is sleeping in the bathroom!" Hiram tries desperately to suppress a laugh as her son's taunt echoes back down the stairwell and into the living room…
Neither parent has any inkling of a clue as to where it was that there son has inherited his wit from… It was neither one of them that much is for damn sure…
Shelby is just preparing to scold him for his cheek when somebody beats her to it first.
"Noah!" Their children erupt into a swarm of energy as Rachel voices her displeasure towards Noah's announcement of the bathroom being converted into her brand new bedroom…
She escapes from her parents dutiful watch with determination written blatantly across her face, chasing her brother down with several careful, uncoordinated steps although she moves much slower than her brother had previously…
It is guaranteed that Noah has already dutifully decided which bedroom will be his… It is more so guaranteed that his pick of the litter had been the master bedroom… Hiram doesn't have the heart to kick him out just yet; he allows the boy to air in his superiority for just a few moments longer.
"Noah!" Shelby calls after the boy, "Don't tease your sister or else you will be sleeping in the bathroom until you're thirty!"
Noah's only response is silence… The awaiting parents cannot be certain whether this is a good sign or a bad…
"We did good, huh?" Hiram chooses to assume the former, turning back around in an effort to face his wife who merely nods in her agreement as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck so that she can lean closer into his body…
Suddenly, the conflict of who will be sleeping where seems insignificant, obsolete.
"We did good," She confirms with a solidifying head nod, her chin tilting upwards slightly until their lips meet… a puzzle piece of a couple; a perfect connection that seemed impossible to replicate or destroy.
"We can raise a pretty nice little family here you know…" Hiram dives in for the kill, his eyebrows arching suggestively as he begins to sway slightly on his feet until husband and wife begin a lazy rendition of a ballroom dance within the middle of their empty living room.
"I told you, Hiram," Shelby rolls her eyes expectedly; she was never one to grow deterred by dance, "We can have more kids just as soon as they start popping out of your body."
"I'll get right on that…" He smirks softly; an expression written across his face that he knows will positively melt Shelby's heart quickly into submission.
"Maybe…" She reconsiders slowly… Right on time, Hiram can't help but to silently think, "Maybe after all of this moving if finally over… After I find a job, settle down…"
"You don't need a job," Hiram expresses the obvious although after three children, he knows that he could no longer be certain of anything; financial stability being one of them, "You're Broadway royalty… Besides the worst case scenario is that you have a local theater production drooling for your guidance, practically begging you to go teach them your heavenly ways…"
"Stop…" She's flushing red with embarrassment, just like she always does every time Hiram offers her a compliment… It was just one of the many things that he loved about her.
"I mean it…"
"Do you think that Noah and Rachel would want another brother or sister?" She asks him cautiously, averting her eyes down against his chest as her fingers pick subconsciously at the frayed ends of his t-shirt.
"They don't seem to mind having each other…"
Shelby is in the midst of an agreeing nod; practically solidifying the deal in a morally binding contract when the two are separated right on cue, leaping apart from one another alongside a loud, sharp and lingering crash that has come somewhere from upstairs…
"I didn't do it!"
Noah's voice has guilt written all over it…
"What did you just say about wanting to have more of that?" Shelby's face tilts upwards in her expression of all-knowingness as she silently alludes towards Hiram, that there is still time to reconsider his previous proposal.
"Come on," He avoids the question purposefully with a small, reassuring laugh, "Let's go intervene before our kids destroy our house without us even getting a chance to move into it."
It's taken him three hours just to muster up enough courage to pull himself out of his car and still, his only motivation to do so is the understanding that this feeding of his steady descent into madness was in the long run, the only way for him to actually get anywhere at all.
Either way, the odds weren't looking to be particularly high in his favor.
Despite the seemingly clear morning the day had opened into, the late afternoon has arrived alongside a relatively steady-paced rain that he has since deemed typical…
He had finally brought it upon himself to shower, to shave, to change his damn outfit for Christ sake, only to have his Sunday best deteriorating alongside this rapidly diminishing weather.
He could only assume that it was true what they said… The weather didn't necessarily have to be perfect in the moment that you choose to leave this world all behind you after all… But it's already been too long; he should have known from the very beginning that things could only possess a capacity to start after another ends.
He silently believes that he has indeed always known this… he just didn't want to believe it until now that he has no choice.
He shouldn't be here.
Hiram knows that he shouldn't be here, Shelby had made that rather clear to him earlier in the day, but for his intents and purposes, her comments no longer seem of much value… Besides, his planning had been strategic; he's waiting almost all day for Shelby to leave the house, she would not be inside to stop him.
His only fears are in regards to what he shall do should he run into unexpected company in his travels… He had physically watched Shelby peel out of the driveway and speed off in the opposite direction, but he can't help but to worry about perhaps running into his in-laws, or Krista, or worse yet, Noah, any of which would inevitably derail his plans just as quickly as they had been formulated.
He had left the scene of his former home only once since he had been forcibly removed from its interior hours ago now, and although he had ensured to make it fast – a casual trip to the bank, a note slipped inside of the mailbox of his lawyer's office which the man was certain not to find until it was too late – it was still plenty of time for a car to slip into the garage unnoticed, its patrons to make themselves comfortable inside of his house.
The interior of the home appears to be silence at first glance as he slips quietly into the foyer for the second time that day alone, but he doesn't make any risks… Instead, he moves with a handful of steady, carefully orchestrated steps deeper inside of his own home…
His twenty foot trek towards the kitchen door goes undeterred; the exact opposite in fact, as he declares his path a success, his home empty save for himself…
Still, he finds himself subconsciously retaining a strict silence in his movements, if only not to disrupt the ghosts about him, floating throughout this home…
Because Lord knows that there are plenty.
He falsely assumes that by taking his time in his carefully orchestrated, dutifully planned motions, his intentions may come with slightly more ease… He isn't entirely certain why he'd ever assumed this to be true as he shuffles towards the kitchen table, still cluttered with the same mess that he had recognized from earlier that morning as his wife had left behind…
Hiram seats himself down at the table; his hands are trembling, breaths emitting as loud, shaky gasps as he weaves his hands through his freshly trimmed hair… The moisture from the rain outside, still clinging to the fabric of his jacket seeps outwards and onto the paperwork below, damaging it irreparably, but he doesn't seem to take notice.
All of their implications still remain.
He hadn't wasted much of time in scribbling what he's since deemed a half-assed note to his wife… There were better options than this, he believed…
He places the brief letter down atop the paperwork to ensure that she would find it upon his return… She deserves more, she has always deserved more, but still, he couldn't bring himself to leave her without one last word; even if they were deliberate, robotic, expressing no more than his ultimate intentions and simply leaving it at that.
There is nothing more for him to say… He can only hope that one day, she will possess the capacity to understand this, to understand any of this.
Besides, by that point, all eyes would ultimately be on the prize, and God knows that his disheartening scribble pleading for an apology that he didn't deserve was not that prize… Not nearly as much as his guaranteed $500,000 life insurance policy nestled safely behind it was anyway.
When Hiram finally does stand, he leaves his evidence of premeditation resting firmly on the table behind him.
First Degree – the thought comes to him with the slightest of laughs towards the concept, but the smile is wiped from his face almost immediately.
The basement of the Corcoran home is not a particularly pleasant place to be… It had never been completely finished like all of their neighbors' surrounding them; converted into a toy room for the kids, a bachelor pad for exhausted husbands to attempt and revisit their youth on the weekends…
No, upon moving to Lima, their basement has become nothing more than a storage unit for all of the things that still, two years later, Shelby and Hiram have yet to get around to unpacking… And now, probably never would.
The kids have always been strictly forbidden to step foot inside of the basement, they knew that, and a sturdy latch lock at the top of the door beyond Noah's reach on even the highest stool ensured it… Shelby's mortal terror of basements has always ensured Hiram to be the only one to have ever made the trek down the treacherous stairs.
It has always seemed the ideal location to hide even your deepest of secrets, but Hiram knows just as well as the rest of them that even those had a tendency towards escaping sometimes.
Hiram Corcoran has always been a big gun man.
Hell, growing up in the Deep South, everybody he had ever known had been big gun people; men, women, even most of the children over the age of ten or so… sometimes even younger than that.
His friends had been sport hunters or classically trained, sharp shooters destined for a life of honorably defending their countries or new husbands or lonely widows looking to protect themselves and their own…
Still, there were others; the ones that simply enjoyed sitting on lawn chairs in their backyards shooting pellets at anything that moved… Lord help you if you found yourself wondering into the wrong backyard at the wrong time… Hiram had learned this early.
His father's favorite particular hobby had been spending his days getting drunk on the back deck of their ten acre backyard, throwing his empties into the air in an attempt to see whether or not he could still shoot them down in even his deepest of drunken hazes…
He should have always known himself to be destined for nothing less… Genetics ran deeper than hope, his father had always told him, and despite insistencies otherwise, there was nothing out there that he could ever find thicker than blood.
But if there was one thing in the entirety of this world that Hiram could say that he was glad his father had taught him, it was the man's emphasis on the necessity of protection… Hiram had a family to uphold, a position as the man of their home to defend.
He had purchased the .357 Magnum Revolver following Shelby's moving in with him into his dingy old apartment complex right off of the Bruckner Boulevard cutting through Hunts Point in the South Bronx… Needless to say, it had not exactly been the nicest of neighborhoods to have lived in.
But the rent had been cheap, and the company perfect, and finally, after the small family had met the means by which to move into the city, and had had their first child, Hiram voiced no regrets towards his decision to keep the small weapon permanently hidden in the back of his closet….
But still, that didn't mean that he had ever felt himself confident enough to tell Shelby about it… Still, years following the initial purchase, she has no idea of the small prize burrowed deep and hidden within the same space that her children slept at night… nobody did.
Hiram decides to collect the ammunition first.
His hands are shaking so badly that by the time he arrives to the actual weapon - across the room from the bullets by which make it so deadly – he has already lost several of the vital shells… He can hear them clattering to the cement floor below, but never makes a single move to retrieve them.
For his intents and purposes, he knows, he will only truly need one, and clutched inside of his hands, Hiram finds plenty.
The box is nestled inside of an old, dusty shoebox that rests against the top shelf beneath his old hunting equipment; thick jackets designed to withstand temperatures that rival those of the arctic, camouflage designed to make you nearly identical to your surroundings in a heartbeat…
Of course, he hasn't used these in years… Of course, he has never used what lies beneath it, but there's a first time for everything, he guesses.
He loads the bullets carefully into the cylinder, loading each chamber in its entirety… He doesn't want to miss, even what most may consider the easiest shot in the world, because with his luck, he knows that a swift round of Russian Roulette wouldn't end well to his favor.
He has to eliminate ever obstacle along his path for fear that should he miss on the first opportunity, he won't be able to muster up the courage to go ahead and try it again.
The true struggle, Hiram quickly finds, comes ultimately upon his retreat back up the length of the basement stairs and into the kitchen… What he had previously assumed would be the easy part.
He'd thought wrong; he should have known, he always thought wrong.
Embracing his final steps, Hiram finds himself rounding into circles alongside the idea that he can't seem to think of a single room in the entirety of the house courteous enough for him to commit to this inevitable mess… in more meanings than just one.
'Jesus', He can't help but to think to himself, 'The trouble really will only stop after I'm six feet under.'
He's pacing about his home's lower level, and although he eyes the stairs leading upwards towards the top landing, he doesn't risk wandering up there… He refuses to trail past his children's bedroom for fear of being swallowed alive by their sheer potential… potential that he knows, he wouldn't have ever managed to catch even on his best god damned day, let alone today which was his… well he isn't entirely certain what exactly this was…
The words last, final, ultimate, seem so harsh, too harsh, but the more he considers it, the more he is starting to realize that there may not actually be another means around it…
He fears his obligation towards his children, which he assumes, is what has landed himself in this position in the first place, but suddenly, he finds himself fearing the burden by which he is choosing to leave them with, the idea that after today, it will be on his hands, the idea that his children will have to learn exactly why it is that they should be living each and every one of their days as if it were their last…
They're still too impossibly young to realize that they should, because one day it will…. But Hiram is already starting to get the feeling that they have since been made more than aware of this notion by now.
For all of the walking in circles that he has done, he's not entirely surprised when ultimately, he finds himself settled inside of car in the garage… He doesn't bother to close the garage door behind him; if he's lucky, somebody will manage to find him before his family can, sparing them at the very least, that much.
He settles his body firmly against the Honda's leather interior, begging his muscles to relax, but they remain stiff as a board despite even his best efforts… Tears lace the undersides of his eyes; for every swell of confidence that swells across his body, the crest of the wave befalls him after mere seconds; it flattens, flickers, diminishes in its entirety.
His body is shaking visibly, palms sweaty as he juggles the loaded gun between his hands… He wouldn't be entirely surprised if he blows off his own damn foot before he has the opportunity to do any true damage
'This is right,' He murmurs under his breath, struggling to convince even himself, 'They will be better off without me… They all are going to be better off without me.'
The more he says it, the less sure he is… But despite the idea that he isn't entirely certain that this means to an end was particularly right, the more he thinks about it, the more he finds himself certain that it was at the very least, where they were all at… at this point, anyway.
He knows that he can sit here and analyze the reasons for it all until he's blue in the face; but at this point, he knows that that is the reason that it all has to happen this way The more he stalls, the more borrowed time that he finds himself running short on.
For him, it has never been a question but a guarantee; he has been destined to leave since before he'd even arrived.
There's a newfound confidence behind his motions as his white-knuckled fingers clutch even tighter about the cool metal of the revolver's grip handle, the voice playing repetitively inside of his head reminding him that while fear is logical, release will be wonderful.
Prepare yourself, he insists, prepare for the next life, because the previous will be much better off without you in it.
The gun clicks inside of his palms, his thumb subconsciously releasing the hammer that sends his golden ticket out of here securely into place as he simultaneously lodges the muzzle securely underneath his chin; multitasking, he thinks… killing two birds with one stone.
The irony might have caused him to laugh should he have been in any other situation.
The metal is cool beneath the skin of his throat, but still, his body registers it as a burning heat… He pretends that he can feel the fire, the spark, the burning, residual fire characteristic of a recently discharged weapon.
In reality, he is only praying that he won't be able to feel much of anything at all.
He considers what will happen to him should there be some incredible injustice in heaven and he was not welcomed in… Was there such a thing as a no vacancy behind those pearly white gates?
Would they take him even if there wasn't?
He struggles to identify whether or not he will still be able to watch over his family should he be forced to settle for rising towards anything other than the very sky…The reminder that they will probably be better off if he can't allows the muscles about his right index finger to tense on its own accord…
It is only after he finally pulls the trigger, that his mind manages to fall completely blank.
Readerforlife – As always, the most gratitude passed over towards your general direction :)
Becky – Thank you so much for the review! Rachel's chapters will pop up interwoven with Noah's (which is up next) It will probably start about a week or so after she's begun chemo but trust me, she will still be doing a lot of adjusting by that point trying to get used to this new life.
Amandaes417 – Aw, good I'm glad you liked them, there will be more coming up I promise. Thank you so much for your amazing words, as always of course.
Anon – Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying, thanks for giving it an opportunity, I'm honored!
Miee – Thank you! Noah is coming up next so don't you worry.
Baygirl123 – Noah telling the glee club will pop up in the next chapter I promise! Thank you as always for the review!
Gleessam – Can't begin to thank you enough, I'm glad that you're enjoying it so far.
Ballerina03 – Ahh, sorry to keep you waiting, Rachel and Noah are going to be discussing what to do about the glee club coming up next… Haha I just ended up adding things in here and there really, so I just ended up filling little bits and pieces into that last chapter until it was as long as a text book, hope you didn't mind. I finish school on the 24th and after that, this story will be all that I have to worry about and I'm itching to start cranking it out so start the countdown! I think I enjoy writing these chapters more than you enjoy reading them so don't you worry… I have no idea how I'm going to end this story quite yet, usually I don't even know what's going to happen in the next chapter until I start writing it so it will probably be a while before I come to any decisions… I'm thinking that it might be around half way finished now so maybe around fifty chapters all together give or take a few. I'm hoping to have it done by September before I start grad school. Thanks for the review!