Soul Inside by Antonio Pinto
40. Grace
Liz hadn't expected to ever hear that quiet voice again. She remembered exchanging jokes with the kind, but mysterious voice once in a while. How long had it been since she had last heard it?
Dembe had disappeared along with Red, and thus the voice had gone as well. To say she was surprised at hearing it once more was an understatement. She nearly dropped the phone and burst out crying at the sound of her old friend.
She was even more taken aback at his gentle request for her to meet him at Saint Mathias Church on thirteenth street. Nevertheless, she had seized the chance of the possibility of seeing him once more.
His absence from her life had left a gaping hole that only he alone could fill. Perhaps this would help.
Dembe greeted her with a hug in front of the church Saturday morning. The sun was still peeking over the leafless trees, casting a purple glow across the sky.
"You look well, Liz." The tall man told her.
She smiled at his attempt to be courteous. They both knew she could do with a healthy light to her eyes.
"I've missed you," she told the man.
He nodded. "Me too," he paused a beat before adding, "So has he."
Liz gave him a strained smile. They both know the struggle she has been going through the last few years, trying to piece her life back together without him.
"He's been coming here for the last three days since we arrived. Always just walks around the grounds and then sits inside. Father Francis has been speaking to him in the evenings. No one comes during the week. It's just him alone with his thoughts. I thought it best to just call you." Dembe gazed out at the well-trimmed grass that extended out several acres behind the church. A neat line of trees bordered the start of the forest. From here one could get a clear look at the horizon.
"He doesn't know you're here."
They caught sight of a lone figure. She recognized the poised stance. His hands in his pockets gave away his unease. He had lost a lot of weight. Despite the chilly weather, he wore no coat. The black vest he wore stretched out across his broad shoulders, ending in a cut at his lean waist. He looked the same. Yet so different. Almost...dispirited.
A light fog surrounded him at his feet. If she didn't know any better, she would've guessed that she was gazing at the painting of a man pondering the sunrise.
With feet that felt like lead, she began to make her way towards him. It didn't feel as if she was getting any closer to him with each step she took. She half expected him to disappear as he has so many times in her dreams; but at some point she did get to him.
His back was to her still.
"Red?" she breathed out in a trembling voice.
A/N: I know...I suck for ending it there. *evil grin*