Chapter 24 - Take Me to Church
Tommy sat on his bed with his head in his hands. The baby was still for once, giving him peace to think. At eight months with a much needed dead doctor, Tommy was again haunted by the sounds of pounding shovels. Panic swarmed in his chest. He thought a knock at the door was a part of his hallucinations, until John called for him by name. "Come in," said Tommy. John entered, shutting the door softly behind him. "What do you want?" Tommy asked with his hands clasped near his mouth and his elbows resting on his knees. "Just to talk," John replied shyly. "Just to talk," Tommy repeated. He shifted his seated position. "About what, John?" he asked brazenly. John sat across from his brother and took off his hat. Tommy removed his hands from his face. "Do you think, Esme, has anything to do with this?" John asked softly. His eyes were red with water. Tommy straightened his back the best he could. Shifting his eyes and brows up condescendingly, he said, "That's why you came up here?"
"Tommy, no, no, that's … that's not,"
"Then what is it?" Tommy snapped. John got up from his seat to sit next to Tommy on the bed. Tommy watched his face curiously. He thought John was about to cry. John's eyes quickly glanced at Tommy's large middle.
"It's … it's Arthur," John half lied.
"Arthur," repeated Thomas. "What, did he do it? Did he finally kill himself?" he asked directly.
"No! He's … he's in the church … and he won't leave," said John. Tommy paused to shift himself in John's direction.
"And you know what, John, I don't care," Tommy said coldly.
"Yeah of course, you don't but we do," John rapid fired back.
"Then get him out yourself."
"Jesus, Tommy!" exclaimed John as he stood up from the bed. "This isn't about him! It's about you!" he shouted. Hot tears rolled down his face. He wiped them away quickly with the back of his hand. Curiosity cooled the frustration in Tommy's heart by a few degrees.
"What is about me, John? How is Arthur's stubbornness about me, aye?" demanded Tommy. John's eyes glanced towards Tommy's middle again.
"We don't want you to die, Tom," he blurted. All tightness and expression dropped from Tommy's face.
"That's why he's there, for you," John added. Tommy shifted away from John.
"Praying isn't going to solve this," Tommy said.
"Oh for fuck sakes, he's not praying!" shouted John catching his brother off guard. "He doesn't know what to do, and frankly, neither do I," he said defeated. The baby stirred, wrenching Tommy back to reality. His hand subconsciously went to calm it. He pushed himself up slowly from the bed. John moved to help him but he stopped knowing that Tommy never wanted it. Tommy used the chair for support instead with one hand still on his stomach. "He's in the Church because of me?" Tommy asked looking down at the floor. John nodded in the corner of his eye. Tommy straightened his back to face John. He approached him with open arms. John wanted to resist out of spite, but he couldn't for long. He accepted his brother's kind gesture with a tight embrace. Tommy held him with one hand on the back of John's half shaven head. John pulled him in tighter no matter what distance the baby put between him. "Let's go find Arthur," whispered Tommy. John released himself timidly. "Yeah, alright," said John collecting his emotions.
Tommy and John headed for the church. Tommy never realized how hard walking could be until his condition. They found Arthur slumped in a pew. Tommy scooted next to him.
"Arthur, Arthur?" he repeated. Arthur stared off into nothingness.
"Arthur, aye," said Tommy snapping his fingers in Arthur's face. All the effort made the baby responded more than Arthur did. Tommy put a hand on his middle. With Tommy's other hand, he shook Arthur.
"Arthur!" called John.
"Don't make me work harder for this …" said Tommy fully knowing that he couldn't. Finally, Arthur spoke.
"Is it true, Tommy?" Arthur whispered in a low voice. Tommy was getting tired of these open ended questions.
"Is what bloody true Arthur?" he repeated exhaustedly.
"That doctor's dead … and there's no one else," Arthur asked sadly. He moved his head to look at Tommy's face. The baby kicked more with Tommy's bubbling anxiety. His free hand was still placed on Arthur's shoulder.
"Yes, Arthur," Tommy responded not wanting to answer his question. John seemed to absorb Arthur's numbness. Tommy dropped his hand from Arthur's shoulder. Arthur's dead eyes followed it until they found Tommy's middle. "And that's real," Arthur asked doubtfully. John just closed his eyes and shook his head. Tommy decided to use the baby's fuss to his own benefit. He took hold of Arthur's hand before Arthur even knew what he was doing, and placed it on his abdomen.
"Yes Arthur, for the one hundredth time, it's real," remarked Tommy. The baby moved softly underneath Arthur's hand. Looking away, Arthur's frozen face scrunched into a sob. Thomas and John were a little disturbed by his reaction. Tommy nearly thought that he was next in line to shed tears.
"Aye, Arthur, aye, look at me," Tommy said trying to calm him. He put a hand on Arthur's neck so that he would look at him. Arthur's face was still skewed in a bawl. Tommy's eyes welled with water at the sight of it, which made him realize his own impending future. Closing his eyes, Tommy hung his head unable to finish his thought. Arthur relaxed his face a tad. John joined them in the pew. "Tommy," said John. Tommy lightly shook his head. He cried a dry, quiet cry. Arthur, waking up from his depression, grasped Tommy's shoulders. Tommy looked up in response. "We, are not going to let you die Tom," Arthur told him. "Or the baby," added John. "Or the baby," concluded Arthur. The baby kicked. Tommy choked on a tears.