Chapter Six:
"I'm so sorry to hear about your dad, my boy." An elderly police officer said, as he patted Leon on the back. "He was a good man. Better than most."
"He was." Leon said firmly.
"I hear you're a cop now, too. Keeping the torch lit, eh?" Another friend of his father said. "You graduated in the top ten at the Academy, didn't you?"
Leon paused. How could this man be so thoughtless as to bring up that subject? Who gave a damn whether he had graduated first and was the head of the police department now?
"That was a long time ago, sir." he told him.
"That didn't make a difference to Frank. Not one bit. No sir-ee." the man said. "He was so proud of you, you were all he could talk about three days out of the week."
Leon froze. His previous apprehension was immediately forgotten. His nose began to sting as he remembered his father and Uncle Jake handing him a box wrapped up in paper with handcuff designs all around it. He knew instinctively what it was even if he had not felt the heft of the Desert Eagle inside the box. When he pulled the gun out and examined it, he saw in his father's eyes the pride that he was trying to hold back. He knew he was proud then, it was just that... somewhere along the line he forgot. Somewhere between the conspiracies and guilty consiences... Swallowing hard, he excused himself and headed away from the crowd. The church that night had been packed with ex-officers, veterans of the station and even some new boys on the force. His father had so many friends, he was such a great man... and he had to die because of a heart failure?
Mrs. Kennedy was nodding with one of the wives of his father's friends. "Oh, Leon! Leon, come my boy. This is Uncle Ralph's new girlfriend. Morgan Smith."
"Hello, Ms. Smith." Leon said, smiling but wanting to get away.
"Hello, Leon." Morgan Smith said jovially. "You're Uncle Ralph talks about you all time. You'd have thought you were his own son. He and your father were very close--"
"He isn't my father." Leon interrupted sharply. "I hope you're happy with him so that he'll never be." Leon could feel his mother cringe inwardly. "I'm sorry, Ms. Smith, it's just a real hard time right now."
"I understand." she replied, nodding with sickly sweet sympathy.
"My Uncle Ralph has just always been after my mom, ya know."
"Leon. Honey, why don't you--"
"Excuse me." Leon excused himself once again.
Rushing through the milling crowd, he crossed around to the back of the church. Through the windows, he saw Claire with Lalaine and Leila gathering some of their belongings and talking with quiet smiles and amused expressions. Without stopping, he continued until he was sitting on a stair near the bathroom. What was getting into him? He hadn't even been thinking of half of the things he had said that night, wouldn't have given them the power of a voice if he had... words just tumbled from him and he was powerless to stop it.
Leon's throat was dry and he struggled to swallow. His eye lids felt rough with the lack of sleep. He hadn't slept for nearly two days, nearly the same amount of time he'd been home. Last night had been the first night back in his house. And he had roamed the halls and stairs, checking on his sisters and mother and hesitating outside Claire's door, feeling ashamed for his ignoring her. He finally opened the door and peeked in and she was lying on her stomach, clutching his pillow against her like a child would clutch a teddy bear. She didn't smile in her sleep but you could tell she was peaceful... so peaceful you couldn't tell sleep from the dead.
The thought sent a cold rush through Leon's body which he could not feel for the constant numbness that he was growing accustomed to. Being careful not to intrude upon her slumber, Leon tip-toed in and placed his hand lightly on her cheek. He could tell there was still warmth running through her but nevertheless he sat watching her for nearly ten minutes before returning to hall patrol.
Footsteps approached him and he groaned. "Would you _please_ just lay off?"
Claire back tracked a little and stammered. "Oh, okay. Um, I _was_ going to use the bathroom, but--"
"Oh, Claire." he quickly glanced up and shook his head. "Um, go ahead."
"Okay." Claire passed by him and headed to the small building with the door marked, 'Ladies'.
The world was quiet for the three to four minutes that Claire left him alone except for the sound of the crickets chirping and playing that strange melody they always seemed to play in perfect harmony each and every night. The door re-opened and Claire appeared, drying her hands on a paper towel, which she promptly dropped in the waste basket before she left the bathroom.
She made as if she were going to return to the milling people who were offering condolences but she surprised him by sharing his perch on the stair.
"Hey, JFK." she said, smiling as she used a nickname she had for him. In the beginnings of their friendship, she had jokingly questioned him whether he came from the wealthy Kennedy branch and he had just laughed and told her that he wished.
"Do my eyes deceive me? Or has the lovely Marilyn Monroe decided to grace me with her presence?"
"No, it's just plain old Norma Jean." she replied, tossing her head. Her comforting hand on his back was the nicest thing he had felt all day. "Long day, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Hmmm."
Claire cleared her throat and adjusted the hem of the black dress she had borrowed from Leila's closet. Afterward, she took a deep breath and release it. "It'll get harder."
"Hmph." he sniffed, somewhere between a scoff and a weak chortle.
"But I'm here for you. You know that, right?" she added, rubbing both of his shoulders encouragingly.
"God... I'm surprised you're still talking to me."
"Why? Because you've been moody? I don't blame you--just don't make it a daily thing."
"No. I know. I know you've all been just trying to help me and all I've been able to do is whine and bitch about everything."
"Well, we all forgive you. We do. Honestly, it's hard on everyone but they understand how hard it is on you, especially since you and your father were so close." she sighed. "Someone mistook me for a family member. He told me what a great man my uncle was."
"He was a great man."
Claire nodded. "You're superhero?"
"He was superman." he told her firmly. With a sigh of his own, Leon rubbed his palms against his knees. "I don't think I could go out there again. I can't face those people."
"Ohh, I _know_ you can." she crooned. "Just imagine they're all little kids. You can stand them for at _least_ an hour or so... isn't that right?"
"I guess so..." Leon replied. "But I don't think I can do it alone."
"Well, I can't carry you... but I can hold your hand through the whole thing." Claire's warm hand closed over Leon's cold one and she squeezed tightly.
"I'm sorry." Leon said quickly.
Claire helped him stand. "What for?"
"Just... everything. I feel I owe you a separate apology."
"And I say, once again, you're forgiven." she told him. "Now, put on a smile and greet the people."
"Yes, ma'am."
*******************************************************************
Claire lay silent on Leon's bed, her breathing hoarse and uneven. Her stomach churned and rolled like a turbulent sea which threatened to swallow her in its depths. It was nearly three o' clock in the morning. For the past few hours she had been listening to the sounds of Leon roving about the house. Countless times he had past by the room she was in, his footsteps deliberate but tired. Why wouldn't he just get some sleep? He was going to kill himself...
Suddenly turning on her side, Claire's stomach clenched and her heart leapt in her chest. Somewhere in the midst of all the emotional turmoil in the Kennedy house, her own feelings had become lost. She no longer understood how she was feeling about anything. Her worry for the safety of her brother was no where near the back burner, but her supporting Leon in his grief was taking up all her energy. She was taking a role of a surrogate mother to him whenever he needed it... and it wasn't the role she wanted to be cast in. Not when her heart was suddenly demanding more of her than it had ever demanded before.
Sitting up, Claire glanced to the side and saw a picture of Leon in his football uniform. He was kneeling on one knee in the universal all-star pose, smiling brilliantly. Amazing... with all that had happened, that smile never lost its luster. A terrible pain, an awful yearning was building inside her; a feeling she had described to Jill Valentine one day as midway betwixt depression and loneliness. Jill had responded that the two were one in the same. Sitting in Leon's bed, his comforter tangled around her, Claire had to disagree. The two feelings were very much their own emotion and neither was willing to surrender her to the other's will.
A stinging in her nose crinkled her features and she pushed away her thoughts. How could she be thinking like this? It was crazy. She was there to support Leon in whatever he needed. This was no time for her to be thinking of her needs. The self-chastizing didn't help as much as she thought it would and she felt useless once again.
The door opened and a stream of light from the hallway flooded her view.
"Claire? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were--"
"No. It's all right." she said, looking at Leon's frame which filled the doorway. "Um... Did you need anything?"
There was a pause.
"No."
"No?"
"Uh, no. I just wanted to see if you were... all right... I guess."
Claire smiled, grateful for the warmth that flushed over her by Leon's prescence.
"You're eyes are red." Leon observed.
"Are they?" she replied.
"Just a tad." he said, stepping towards her. His weight made the bed bounce a little but Claire eased over to give him room to sit.
"Thinking about Chris?" he inquired.
"Yes." Claire lied.
Leon murmured some understanding and looked at her curiously. "I never noticed this before but my room is pretty damn lonely."
Claire had to laugh at that because she agreed. "You look tired."
Leon smiled wearily and admitted he had not gotten much sleep as of late. That's not healthy. I know, it's just hard to sleep right now. What are you, my mother? And some other menial exchange of words before Leon asked if Claire was hungry. The two went downstairs and whipped up some oriental soup bowls which they ate in the living room on the couches the Kennedy girls kept neat and tidy. For a brief half hour, Claire's loneliness was eased as the two whispered quietly but most of the time slipped into an easy silence.
Walking back up to Leon's room was a chore. She was tired but something else was bothering her. Slipping into the covers once again, Claire closed her eyes and tried in vain to invite Sleep to come. The sound of the door opening again interrupted her attempts and she was wide awake when she felt the weight of a body land on top of her. Struggling to pull away, she saw Leon's grinning face and an outraged giggle escaped her.
"JFK, what the hell are you doing?" she said, pushing him away.
Leon shook his head. "I'm tired."
Claire nodded. "Me too."
After some moving around, the two found a way to fit themselves on Leon's twin mattress.
"Comfortable?" Leon chuckled.
Claire nodded, feeling her heart lift and the heaviness melt away. For a few moments, Claire only heard the sound of his breathing becoming more and more even until she glanced back and saw he was sleeping. The gentle rhythm of his breathing served as a lullaby which lulled her into a soothing slumber.
"I'm so sorry to hear about your dad, my boy." An elderly police officer said, as he patted Leon on the back. "He was a good man. Better than most."
"He was." Leon said firmly.
"I hear you're a cop now, too. Keeping the torch lit, eh?" Another friend of his father said. "You graduated in the top ten at the Academy, didn't you?"
Leon paused. How could this man be so thoughtless as to bring up that subject? Who gave a damn whether he had graduated first and was the head of the police department now?
"That was a long time ago, sir." he told him.
"That didn't make a difference to Frank. Not one bit. No sir-ee." the man said. "He was so proud of you, you were all he could talk about three days out of the week."
Leon froze. His previous apprehension was immediately forgotten. His nose began to sting as he remembered his father and Uncle Jake handing him a box wrapped up in paper with handcuff designs all around it. He knew instinctively what it was even if he had not felt the heft of the Desert Eagle inside the box. When he pulled the gun out and examined it, he saw in his father's eyes the pride that he was trying to hold back. He knew he was proud then, it was just that... somewhere along the line he forgot. Somewhere between the conspiracies and guilty consiences... Swallowing hard, he excused himself and headed away from the crowd. The church that night had been packed with ex-officers, veterans of the station and even some new boys on the force. His father had so many friends, he was such a great man... and he had to die because of a heart failure?
Mrs. Kennedy was nodding with one of the wives of his father's friends. "Oh, Leon! Leon, come my boy. This is Uncle Ralph's new girlfriend. Morgan Smith."
"Hello, Ms. Smith." Leon said, smiling but wanting to get away.
"Hello, Leon." Morgan Smith said jovially. "You're Uncle Ralph talks about you all time. You'd have thought you were his own son. He and your father were very close--"
"He isn't my father." Leon interrupted sharply. "I hope you're happy with him so that he'll never be." Leon could feel his mother cringe inwardly. "I'm sorry, Ms. Smith, it's just a real hard time right now."
"I understand." she replied, nodding with sickly sweet sympathy.
"My Uncle Ralph has just always been after my mom, ya know."
"Leon. Honey, why don't you--"
"Excuse me." Leon excused himself once again.
Rushing through the milling crowd, he crossed around to the back of the church. Through the windows, he saw Claire with Lalaine and Leila gathering some of their belongings and talking with quiet smiles and amused expressions. Without stopping, he continued until he was sitting on a stair near the bathroom. What was getting into him? He hadn't even been thinking of half of the things he had said that night, wouldn't have given them the power of a voice if he had... words just tumbled from him and he was powerless to stop it.
Leon's throat was dry and he struggled to swallow. His eye lids felt rough with the lack of sleep. He hadn't slept for nearly two days, nearly the same amount of time he'd been home. Last night had been the first night back in his house. And he had roamed the halls and stairs, checking on his sisters and mother and hesitating outside Claire's door, feeling ashamed for his ignoring her. He finally opened the door and peeked in and she was lying on her stomach, clutching his pillow against her like a child would clutch a teddy bear. She didn't smile in her sleep but you could tell she was peaceful... so peaceful you couldn't tell sleep from the dead.
The thought sent a cold rush through Leon's body which he could not feel for the constant numbness that he was growing accustomed to. Being careful not to intrude upon her slumber, Leon tip-toed in and placed his hand lightly on her cheek. He could tell there was still warmth running through her but nevertheless he sat watching her for nearly ten minutes before returning to hall patrol.
Footsteps approached him and he groaned. "Would you _please_ just lay off?"
Claire back tracked a little and stammered. "Oh, okay. Um, I _was_ going to use the bathroom, but--"
"Oh, Claire." he quickly glanced up and shook his head. "Um, go ahead."
"Okay." Claire passed by him and headed to the small building with the door marked, 'Ladies'.
The world was quiet for the three to four minutes that Claire left him alone except for the sound of the crickets chirping and playing that strange melody they always seemed to play in perfect harmony each and every night. The door re-opened and Claire appeared, drying her hands on a paper towel, which she promptly dropped in the waste basket before she left the bathroom.
She made as if she were going to return to the milling people who were offering condolences but she surprised him by sharing his perch on the stair.
"Hey, JFK." she said, smiling as she used a nickname she had for him. In the beginnings of their friendship, she had jokingly questioned him whether he came from the wealthy Kennedy branch and he had just laughed and told her that he wished.
"Do my eyes deceive me? Or has the lovely Marilyn Monroe decided to grace me with her presence?"
"No, it's just plain old Norma Jean." she replied, tossing her head. Her comforting hand on his back was the nicest thing he had felt all day. "Long day, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Hmmm."
Claire cleared her throat and adjusted the hem of the black dress she had borrowed from Leila's closet. Afterward, she took a deep breath and release it. "It'll get harder."
"Hmph." he sniffed, somewhere between a scoff and a weak chortle.
"But I'm here for you. You know that, right?" she added, rubbing both of his shoulders encouragingly.
"God... I'm surprised you're still talking to me."
"Why? Because you've been moody? I don't blame you--just don't make it a daily thing."
"No. I know. I know you've all been just trying to help me and all I've been able to do is whine and bitch about everything."
"Well, we all forgive you. We do. Honestly, it's hard on everyone but they understand how hard it is on you, especially since you and your father were so close." she sighed. "Someone mistook me for a family member. He told me what a great man my uncle was."
"He was a great man."
Claire nodded. "You're superhero?"
"He was superman." he told her firmly. With a sigh of his own, Leon rubbed his palms against his knees. "I don't think I could go out there again. I can't face those people."
"Ohh, I _know_ you can." she crooned. "Just imagine they're all little kids. You can stand them for at _least_ an hour or so... isn't that right?"
"I guess so..." Leon replied. "But I don't think I can do it alone."
"Well, I can't carry you... but I can hold your hand through the whole thing." Claire's warm hand closed over Leon's cold one and she squeezed tightly.
"I'm sorry." Leon said quickly.
Claire helped him stand. "What for?"
"Just... everything. I feel I owe you a separate apology."
"And I say, once again, you're forgiven." she told him. "Now, put on a smile and greet the people."
"Yes, ma'am."
*******************************************************************
Claire lay silent on Leon's bed, her breathing hoarse and uneven. Her stomach churned and rolled like a turbulent sea which threatened to swallow her in its depths. It was nearly three o' clock in the morning. For the past few hours she had been listening to the sounds of Leon roving about the house. Countless times he had past by the room she was in, his footsteps deliberate but tired. Why wouldn't he just get some sleep? He was going to kill himself...
Suddenly turning on her side, Claire's stomach clenched and her heart leapt in her chest. Somewhere in the midst of all the emotional turmoil in the Kennedy house, her own feelings had become lost. She no longer understood how she was feeling about anything. Her worry for the safety of her brother was no where near the back burner, but her supporting Leon in his grief was taking up all her energy. She was taking a role of a surrogate mother to him whenever he needed it... and it wasn't the role she wanted to be cast in. Not when her heart was suddenly demanding more of her than it had ever demanded before.
Sitting up, Claire glanced to the side and saw a picture of Leon in his football uniform. He was kneeling on one knee in the universal all-star pose, smiling brilliantly. Amazing... with all that had happened, that smile never lost its luster. A terrible pain, an awful yearning was building inside her; a feeling she had described to Jill Valentine one day as midway betwixt depression and loneliness. Jill had responded that the two were one in the same. Sitting in Leon's bed, his comforter tangled around her, Claire had to disagree. The two feelings were very much their own emotion and neither was willing to surrender her to the other's will.
A stinging in her nose crinkled her features and she pushed away her thoughts. How could she be thinking like this? It was crazy. She was there to support Leon in whatever he needed. This was no time for her to be thinking of her needs. The self-chastizing didn't help as much as she thought it would and she felt useless once again.
The door opened and a stream of light from the hallway flooded her view.
"Claire? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were--"
"No. It's all right." she said, looking at Leon's frame which filled the doorway. "Um... Did you need anything?"
There was a pause.
"No."
"No?"
"Uh, no. I just wanted to see if you were... all right... I guess."
Claire smiled, grateful for the warmth that flushed over her by Leon's prescence.
"You're eyes are red." Leon observed.
"Are they?" she replied.
"Just a tad." he said, stepping towards her. His weight made the bed bounce a little but Claire eased over to give him room to sit.
"Thinking about Chris?" he inquired.
"Yes." Claire lied.
Leon murmured some understanding and looked at her curiously. "I never noticed this before but my room is pretty damn lonely."
Claire had to laugh at that because she agreed. "You look tired."
Leon smiled wearily and admitted he had not gotten much sleep as of late. That's not healthy. I know, it's just hard to sleep right now. What are you, my mother? And some other menial exchange of words before Leon asked if Claire was hungry. The two went downstairs and whipped up some oriental soup bowls which they ate in the living room on the couches the Kennedy girls kept neat and tidy. For a brief half hour, Claire's loneliness was eased as the two whispered quietly but most of the time slipped into an easy silence.
Walking back up to Leon's room was a chore. She was tired but something else was bothering her. Slipping into the covers once again, Claire closed her eyes and tried in vain to invite Sleep to come. The sound of the door opening again interrupted her attempts and she was wide awake when she felt the weight of a body land on top of her. Struggling to pull away, she saw Leon's grinning face and an outraged giggle escaped her.
"JFK, what the hell are you doing?" she said, pushing him away.
Leon shook his head. "I'm tired."
Claire nodded. "Me too."
After some moving around, the two found a way to fit themselves on Leon's twin mattress.
"Comfortable?" Leon chuckled.
Claire nodded, feeling her heart lift and the heaviness melt away. For a few moments, Claire only heard the sound of his breathing becoming more and more even until she glanced back and saw he was sleeping. The gentle rhythm of his breathing served as a lullaby which lulled her into a soothing slumber.