Soda-
The last week had been difficult. I mainly rested and acted like I was fine. The truth is I'm not fine. I'm still trying to process everything that happened. It all happened so fast. My head ached as I walked across the sidewalk. I knew where I needed to go. The one person I wanted to talk to, Dad but he was dead. Dad always knew what to say.
Dad was amazing and I miss him so 's not the same without him. I turned the corner and walked across the grassy area. Underneath the tree I found where Mama and Daddy were buried. I fell to my knees and knew Dad was the only one who could help me.
I just needed to escape for a bit. I just needed one moment to process this. Everyone asks if I'm fine or call me a hero. I'm no hero, just a man scared for his own life and the life of a friend. I'm not fine, I wish people would stop asking me that. It tears me apart on the inside, I hate this.
My brothers expected another thing from me. I guess they are "giving me space" and allowing me to "pretend nothing happened". Well, it's not as simply as that. It did happen, twice. Twice, I found myself with a gun in my hand and a body at the barrel. The police officers tell me its "accidental shooting", and it doesn't make me a killer.
Accidental or not , two lives were taken because of a damn gun. I hated guns, it just make me sick in my stomach to think about. James would be my age now. He could have lived a very different life had he not died when he was eight. He was healthy and young, how could it be his time to go? I didn't understand and it make me hurt.
As for the man in the gas station, I didn't know him. Hood or not, he had a life and he was someone. There is so much I don't know about him. I learned his name, Tony West. I didn't know anything about him other than his name. His story is unknown to me but i know I took his life.
Dallas Winston was more than a hood. He had a story, his story I don't know all of it. But i do know there is more to Dal than being just a hood. He died violet and young but that's not the end of his story. Maybe death isn't the end of a story, but only the beginning.
I began to sob as I tried to get my words out. "Dad, you always knew what to say. I don't know what I supposed to do.", I say
Of course Dad couldn't answer me but it sometimes happened to be near him. I began to think back to what Dad had said when James died.
Flashback
I knew James was dead when Mama rushed me out of the room. She didn't want Steve and I to watch. We were too young to watch a life be taken. Although, I was there when the fatal shoot hit. Steve would end up spending the night with the Matthews. Mama and Dad wanted to give me time to grief you might say. James's funeral would be in four days and I knew that.
The floor would always been stained even if Dad replaced the floor. The house wouldn't be the same after James died there. Daddy got rid of his gun and his study was forever locked afterwards. His study was off limits, not that I would ever what to return to that room.
Life went on without much being said. Pony was just a kid, not like he noticed much of a difference. Darry answered few of my questions but always tried to get James off my mind. Darry often offered to play with me and keep me happy. Daddy spent a lot of time blaming himself for the loss of another parents' child. Mama tried to change the subject and tended to chores.
Four days later...
I was dressed in a suit that would have been Darry's a few years ago. It was pretty new and was kept neat. Daddy tied my tie. Mama made me take a bath, scrub my nails and comb my hair. I pull on the dress socks and slipped on the shiny dress shoes.
Mama was dressed in a black dress, black heels and her hair was neatly put in a bun. Darry and Dad wore suits as well. Little Pony was too little for a suit. Mama dressed him in his Sunday best which where hand me downs. Mama took my hand and Daddy carried Pony. Darry was big enough to not need a hand and walked closely to Mama.
We took our seats near the back of the service seemed long as the pastor spoke. Daddy helped James's daddy and other men from town carry James's casket. I watched with a careful eye as the carried him. Mama went to comfort James's Mama. Little Pony was left in the care of Darry. We rode with James's Uncle Tom and he drove us to the cemetary. I didn't watch as they put James's body into the ground. I didn't want to remember the tears his mother cried, his still cold body that looked as if he was sleeping nor did I want to remember his father throwing dirt on his grave.
Darry didn't make me look either. I knew he didn't want to look but did simply because he was older. Pony was too little to understand. When Daddy came back over to where we were standing he made me look, he turned my body and I watched. Daddy taught us many lessons growing up, this one was an understanding of loss. A lesson that would teach us many lessons but sadly we would need them.
Daddy was trying to make me understand that James's death wasn't my fault. He put his arm around mine and sent my family to the truck. He stood there on the warm September day and kneeled down to my height. "Son, let's talk man to man.", Daddy said
I looked at him square in the eyes. I looked into his blue eyes and he looked back into mine. He treated me not like a child but a man . He adapted his lessons and words by your level of understanding. At eight years old, I had a certain amount of understanding.
"Soda, James died because of an accident. You didn't kill James, nor did James die because of you. That was a horrible accident that shouldn't have happened. But it did happen, James was just in unlucky situation. It just happened, We all tried to save James. You tried to stop him, I tried to get him to breath and the doctor tired to make him better. When people die, you grief and you cry even. But you never just stop living your life because of death. A large part of life is death , remembered that son.".Dying isn't always people get to live to an old age, live their life and die at an old age. Some aren't as lucky and don't life to an old age.", Daddy says
Flashback over
Present-
I looked up with tears in my eyes. "Thanks Daddy, that was what i need. Just a good talking to.", I say
I felt more at peace after remembering my father and his words. I still had a wish that he was here with us. He just knew what to say. Daddy just had a presence about him that made him so loveable. He was an amazing man and I admired for every lesson he taught him. Most of his lesson I would carry the rest of my life.
Daddy was right that people grief, cry, heal ,and move on. James's parents a few years later would realize how blessed they were to eight years with James. James had been an only child and his parents worked too much. James spent many evening at our house. His parents would change their ways and have five children. Four girls, and the youngest was a little boy.
"A large part of life is death,remember that son. "