Post by spideyfan914 on Jun 6, 2010 21:54:34 GMT -6
The yard was empty. All the family and friends had cleared out, on their way back home to go on with their daily lives. Only he remained – Jon Harbinger, the husband – and the priest, his hand on Jon’s shoulder. He said something comforting, but Jon didn’t hear it, and the priest walked away.
Then, it was only Jon. And yet, he didn’t really know why he remained on the damp sidewalk. The sun had come out, and the rain was drying. It was a beautiful day, and a new beginning. But it was customary that the husband be the last to leave, the last to move on. He’d wait a little bit longer, and then go home to make himself something to eat.
It was going to be lonely from then on. The kids had moved out long ago, and were raising their own families. Without April, the house would be quiet – no more nagging, no more yelling, no more rehab, and no more love.
It was time, now. Time to move on. Jon stood up and looked at the stone one last time, then turned to leave.
But he was interrupted. For he saw another, standing a small distance away, hiding under the shade of the tree, pretending not to be there, but looking toward April’s grave nonetheless. Jon knew that grey-haired man from old stories and older pictures, and he had no right to be here.
“You’re Harry Garner,” Jon scowled, approaching the fiend.
Harry looked at Jon, his sunglasses hiding his face. He didn’t say anything for a while, merely facing Jon’s wrinkly face and balding head.
“I heard she remarried....” he finally said. “Would you be Jon Harbinger?”
Harry’s voice was emotionless. It showed no sorrow, no guilt, nothing. As such, it infuriated Jon.
“Yes, I have been her husband for the past forty-seven years. And you – you had finally faded away into a distant, painful memory. How dare you come back!”
Harry nodded. Nodded! “I understand how you feel.”
“No, you don’t! The memory of her first husband haunted our marriage for a long time! I watched her suffer – she was in pain, in agony!”
“Did it fade?”
“What?”
“The pain – did it fade?”
Harry was a far worse man than Jon had ever conceived, even in his wildest nightmares. After everything he did to April, he seriously had the nerve to ask “Did it fade?”
“Yes,” Jon sneered. “Through counseling, and through my support, she eventually managed to move on.”
“Good.”
Harry’s head snapped to the side as his cheek was slapped.
“I.... hope you were happy together.”
Another slap.
“Just tell me this – just tell me one thing.... Why did you do it?”
Harry sighed. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that....”
“You killed Wayne Ringle.”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then you led him to his death!”
“You misunderstand, Jon....”
“How dare you call me by my first name!”
“You misunderstand, Mr. Harbinger.... Wayne Ringle was a clinical schizophrenic. He was miserable and delusional.”
“I know the story. April’s told me many times, how you used to fondle over her back in college, how you stalked her and claimed to be her friend, how jealous you were when she became Mrs. Ringle.”
Harry looked off in the distance. He did not deny it.
“Mr. Harbinger.... do you smell alcohol?”
Jon’s eyes widened, and then he turned away and walked back to April’s grave.
Yes, he drank. What was he supposed to do?
“You came to your wife’s funeral drunk.... How wasted are you right now?”
There was no hostility in his voice. More concern.
“I.... I didn’t drink enough that I’d forget it.... Not much.... Just enough to make it easier.... It’s going away now.... Wasn’t enough, really.... Not as much as usual....”
“Usual? What is usual?”
Jon turned sharply. Why was he being cross-examined? He wasn’t the felon here. He wasn’t the one who served twenty years in state penitentiary. He wasn’t a murderer.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “That wasn’t fair of me to ask. I have no right to question you like this. I gave up that right ling ago.”
“God knows you have no right!”
“I’m sorry.”
Jon stomped over to Harry, and stuffed his finger in his face. “Did you know that April blamed herself for Wayne’s death? Well, ‘Little Harry,’ did you?”
Harry merely nodded, gently moving Jon’s finger aside. “I confronted her at his funeral. She told me then, how she had never been there for him, how she was more afraid of him than supportive, how she was never there to catch him when he fell over the edge.... She was right.”
Jon’s nostrils flared up. Here was this man, this man who drove another to his death, now blaming that death on the woman he claimed to love?
“She didn’t do a goddamn thing!” Jon shouted.
“And that is why Wayne died. He was overwhelmed by his disorder, and without the support he needed.... well, you know what happened....”
“He hung himself. But you forget, ‘Little Harry,’ that you are the one who played mind games with Wayne! You are the one who told him he was unloved! You are the one who screwed with him until he didn’t know what was real and what was not! You are the one who drove him to his death, and left April – my April – in grief!”
“If it weren’t for me, you never would’ve met her.”
“How dare you!” Jon punched the old man in gut, and he staggered backward a little. He clenched his stomach, fixed his sunglasses, and looked back up at the tears streaming down Jon’s face.
“You have a hard punch,” he said.
“Yes, what of it?”
“That doesn’t tend to mix well with booze....”
Jon punched him again.
“I know what you’re getting at! You think you could’ve made a better partner than me? You’re a devil, a murderer, who should’ve gotten far more than twenty years. How can you be worthy of April’s love, when you’re the one who killed Wayne?”
“I told you, I didn’t kill Wayne.”
“Didn’t you? All those meetings, those ‘therapy sessions,’ you called them. You lost your license for that. Supposed to be helping a patient, and instead, you drive him to suicide. And leave his wife single and open, ripe for the picking.”
“I told her that for a reason.”
“And what’s that?” Jon was shouting now. He was right up in Harry’s face, shouting, “Did you think that being ‘honest’ was going to make everything better? Show her that you truly cared for her? Show her that you ‘loved’ her? And then walked away, never to see her again, never to even apologize! For forty-seven years, I slept by her side, by her beauty. She looked as a goddess should, and you seem to think you, the scum of the earth, have some sort of divine right to her? And why’s that? Because you stalked her? Because you lied to her? Because you killed her husband? You never loved her – I loved her!”
“Don’t you speak to me of love! You know nothing of love!” Harry whipped off his sunglasses. His eyes were in fury. “You don’t know what it’s like – you don’t know what love is! When I was young and foolish, I didn’t know it either – I looked at everyone around me, all the people who claimed to be in love when in public, but then turned to screaming, to beating, to cheating, all behind closed doors! Only the children see what it’s really like – why do you think they leave? As for me, I avoided love like the plague. I saw what it did to my friends, my family, and I wanted nothing to do with it! I didn’t see love as it’s portrayed in the movies – I saw it as a monster, and a fraud.
“And then, I met her. April. In college, we met. I was entering my senior year, when she, a sophomore, transferred in. It wasn’t love at first sight. Such a belief is utterly ridiculous – you don’t love a sight. In fact, we hated each other at first sight. But as time went on, we got to know each other better. I once did something – I don’t even remember what – that truly upset her. I realized I messed up, and went to comfort her. That was when it all began. That was when I fell in love.
“She was just so different from everyone else! She wasn’t afraid to be herself, even though herself was bizarre and abnormal. I didn’t believe my own emotions at first. I waved it off as a very close friendship. And yet, as we spoke more often, met up more frequently, my emotions grew out of control. It took a long time, but at last, I accepted my feelings for what they truly were – love.
“But it wasn’t lust, like everyone else. No, lust is love from physical desire. Such is fraudulent. But me – I had physical desire from love. Before I loved her, I had no desire whatsoever. You claim her to look as a goddess, but when I met her, she looked nothing of the sort – rather, she was a college sophomore with braces. She wasn’t ugly, but she was far from beautiful. I loved her anyway.
“Finally, I got the nerve to tell her how I felt. I had no right to keep it to myself, you see, for she wasn’t even merely the love of my life – she was also my friend. And do you know what happened? Did she ever tell you? I asked her out, and she – she couldn’t stand the sight of me after that! She didn’t love me back. On the contrary, she was creeped out! We were best friends, and she seemed to think I’d been using her, abusing her. She should’ve known that I’d never do anything to hurt her.
“The years passed. I eventually managed to win back her friendship through persistence, but she never forgave me for loving her. And finally, she married Wayne Ringle. Wayne was a good friend of mine – a very good friend. If you had been in my place, you would’ve been outraged. But me – I wished them the best.
“And when it came out that Wayne was off his rocker, I did everything I could to save him, to save them! But it didn’t work – nothing worked – and he killed himself in the end! April knew that she hadn’t always been there for him, but I couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain, pain to last a lifetime. So I told her, ‘Don’t blame yourself.’ And she looked at me straight in the eye, and asked, ‘Then who?’
“I had reached the pivotal point of my life. April loved Wayne with all her heart, despite their difficulties, and with him out of the way, perhaps I could be there for her, perhaps I’d finally have a chance. But she was guilty, and guilt, when it has a base in truth, will last a lifetime. So I made my decision – and I let her blame me instead.”
Harry fell to the ground, on his hands and knees, crying in ways that Jon had never even seen.
“So don’t you speak to me of love....” Harry continued. “You know nothing of love, nothing of what it’s like to love someone so much that you’d be willing to do anything to see them happy.... even if it means leaving their life forever.... You don’t even know what love is....”
“You.... you lied to her....”
“I could’ve had her.... maybe.... But she was so full of sorrow, so full of anger.... I didn’t want her to end up like Wayne.... I became that person who she could let it out on.... And in time, it would pass.... She would move on, remarry.... She’d live a long, happy life.... The only price was that I couldn’t be a part of it.... that she could never know the truth.... If only I could’ve saved Wayne Ringle.... I’d have done anything to save Wayne Ringle.... and then, none of this would have had to pass.... They were so.... happy....”
Jon stared at the man in front of him, the demon who had always been his rival even though they’d never met. This was the man at the bottom of totem pole, the one who had tried to ruin her life, who was never worthy of her affections. But now, it was so hard to see him that way.... So hard to see him as the murderous stalker, and not the true love.
“Tell me, Mr. Harbinger,” Harry whispered, “was she happy with you?”
“I.... I don’t know.... I did my best, but.... I.... I drank a lot....”
Harry nodded. “Did she love you?”
Jon let out a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t know.... She did at first, anyway.... and she stayed by me through it all.... but....”
“But what?”
“Harry.... Did you know she sleep talks? Every night, she whispered.... your name.... Every night for forty-seven years.... Right until her death....”
“That’s not what I wanted. I wanted her to move on.”
“She did move on. But I think.... I think a part of her always knew what you did for her.... the truth.... I just wish that I hadn’t been so blind....”
Harry looked up. “What do you mean?”
“I.... I never held a grudge for what I thought you did to Wayne – I was jealous of Wayne.... I held a grudge because she loved you, maybe more than me....”
“It’s all right, Mr. Harbinger. It doesn’t matter anymore. You gave her forty-seven joyous years, children. And for that, I am grateful. You gave her the life I never could have offered.”
“I’m.... not so sure I was worthy....”
“April was a strong woman. Maybe you weren’t worthy. But if she didn’t love you, she would never have married you, Mr. Harbinger.”
“Please, call me Jon.”
Jon took Harry’s hand, and helped him up. He brought him over to April’s grave.
“So.... you loved her?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“You.... still love her?”
“I’ve never loved anyone else.”
They said no more. Forty-seven years. That was all that passed through Jon’s mind. Forty-seven years, and he still hadn’t moved on.
Finally, Jon put on his hat. Forty-seven hours, and he had already moved on. It was customary that the husband be the last to leave, the last to move on.
Now, only Harry remained. Just one more day.... one more day, and he’d finally move on....
Then, it was only Jon. And yet, he didn’t really know why he remained on the damp sidewalk. The sun had come out, and the rain was drying. It was a beautiful day, and a new beginning. But it was customary that the husband be the last to leave, the last to move on. He’d wait a little bit longer, and then go home to make himself something to eat.
It was going to be lonely from then on. The kids had moved out long ago, and were raising their own families. Without April, the house would be quiet – no more nagging, no more yelling, no more rehab, and no more love.
It was time, now. Time to move on. Jon stood up and looked at the stone one last time, then turned to leave.
But he was interrupted. For he saw another, standing a small distance away, hiding under the shade of the tree, pretending not to be there, but looking toward April’s grave nonetheless. Jon knew that grey-haired man from old stories and older pictures, and he had no right to be here.
“You’re Harry Garner,” Jon scowled, approaching the fiend.
Harry looked at Jon, his sunglasses hiding his face. He didn’t say anything for a while, merely facing Jon’s wrinkly face and balding head.
“I heard she remarried....” he finally said. “Would you be Jon Harbinger?”
Harry’s voice was emotionless. It showed no sorrow, no guilt, nothing. As such, it infuriated Jon.
“Yes, I have been her husband for the past forty-seven years. And you – you had finally faded away into a distant, painful memory. How dare you come back!”
Harry nodded. Nodded! “I understand how you feel.”
“No, you don’t! The memory of her first husband haunted our marriage for a long time! I watched her suffer – she was in pain, in agony!”
“Did it fade?”
“What?”
“The pain – did it fade?”
Harry was a far worse man than Jon had ever conceived, even in his wildest nightmares. After everything he did to April, he seriously had the nerve to ask “Did it fade?”
“Yes,” Jon sneered. “Through counseling, and through my support, she eventually managed to move on.”
“Good.”
Harry’s head snapped to the side as his cheek was slapped.
“I.... hope you were happy together.”
Another slap.
“Just tell me this – just tell me one thing.... Why did you do it?”
Harry sighed. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that....”
“You killed Wayne Ringle.”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Then you led him to his death!”
“You misunderstand, Jon....”
“How dare you call me by my first name!”
“You misunderstand, Mr. Harbinger.... Wayne Ringle was a clinical schizophrenic. He was miserable and delusional.”
“I know the story. April’s told me many times, how you used to fondle over her back in college, how you stalked her and claimed to be her friend, how jealous you were when she became Mrs. Ringle.”
Harry looked off in the distance. He did not deny it.
“Mr. Harbinger.... do you smell alcohol?”
Jon’s eyes widened, and then he turned away and walked back to April’s grave.
Yes, he drank. What was he supposed to do?
“You came to your wife’s funeral drunk.... How wasted are you right now?”
There was no hostility in his voice. More concern.
“I.... I didn’t drink enough that I’d forget it.... Not much.... Just enough to make it easier.... It’s going away now.... Wasn’t enough, really.... Not as much as usual....”
“Usual? What is usual?”
Jon turned sharply. Why was he being cross-examined? He wasn’t the felon here. He wasn’t the one who served twenty years in state penitentiary. He wasn’t a murderer.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said. “That wasn’t fair of me to ask. I have no right to question you like this. I gave up that right ling ago.”
“God knows you have no right!”
“I’m sorry.”
Jon stomped over to Harry, and stuffed his finger in his face. “Did you know that April blamed herself for Wayne’s death? Well, ‘Little Harry,’ did you?”
Harry merely nodded, gently moving Jon’s finger aside. “I confronted her at his funeral. She told me then, how she had never been there for him, how she was more afraid of him than supportive, how she was never there to catch him when he fell over the edge.... She was right.”
Jon’s nostrils flared up. Here was this man, this man who drove another to his death, now blaming that death on the woman he claimed to love?
“She didn’t do a goddamn thing!” Jon shouted.
“And that is why Wayne died. He was overwhelmed by his disorder, and without the support he needed.... well, you know what happened....”
“He hung himself. But you forget, ‘Little Harry,’ that you are the one who played mind games with Wayne! You are the one who told him he was unloved! You are the one who screwed with him until he didn’t know what was real and what was not! You are the one who drove him to his death, and left April – my April – in grief!”
“If it weren’t for me, you never would’ve met her.”
“How dare you!” Jon punched the old man in gut, and he staggered backward a little. He clenched his stomach, fixed his sunglasses, and looked back up at the tears streaming down Jon’s face.
“You have a hard punch,” he said.
“Yes, what of it?”
“That doesn’t tend to mix well with booze....”
Jon punched him again.
“I know what you’re getting at! You think you could’ve made a better partner than me? You’re a devil, a murderer, who should’ve gotten far more than twenty years. How can you be worthy of April’s love, when you’re the one who killed Wayne?”
“I told you, I didn’t kill Wayne.”
“Didn’t you? All those meetings, those ‘therapy sessions,’ you called them. You lost your license for that. Supposed to be helping a patient, and instead, you drive him to suicide. And leave his wife single and open, ripe for the picking.”
“I told her that for a reason.”
“And what’s that?” Jon was shouting now. He was right up in Harry’s face, shouting, “Did you think that being ‘honest’ was going to make everything better? Show her that you truly cared for her? Show her that you ‘loved’ her? And then walked away, never to see her again, never to even apologize! For forty-seven years, I slept by her side, by her beauty. She looked as a goddess should, and you seem to think you, the scum of the earth, have some sort of divine right to her? And why’s that? Because you stalked her? Because you lied to her? Because you killed her husband? You never loved her – I loved her!”
“Don’t you speak to me of love! You know nothing of love!” Harry whipped off his sunglasses. His eyes were in fury. “You don’t know what it’s like – you don’t know what love is! When I was young and foolish, I didn’t know it either – I looked at everyone around me, all the people who claimed to be in love when in public, but then turned to screaming, to beating, to cheating, all behind closed doors! Only the children see what it’s really like – why do you think they leave? As for me, I avoided love like the plague. I saw what it did to my friends, my family, and I wanted nothing to do with it! I didn’t see love as it’s portrayed in the movies – I saw it as a monster, and a fraud.
“And then, I met her. April. In college, we met. I was entering my senior year, when she, a sophomore, transferred in. It wasn’t love at first sight. Such a belief is utterly ridiculous – you don’t love a sight. In fact, we hated each other at first sight. But as time went on, we got to know each other better. I once did something – I don’t even remember what – that truly upset her. I realized I messed up, and went to comfort her. That was when it all began. That was when I fell in love.
“She was just so different from everyone else! She wasn’t afraid to be herself, even though herself was bizarre and abnormal. I didn’t believe my own emotions at first. I waved it off as a very close friendship. And yet, as we spoke more often, met up more frequently, my emotions grew out of control. It took a long time, but at last, I accepted my feelings for what they truly were – love.
“But it wasn’t lust, like everyone else. No, lust is love from physical desire. Such is fraudulent. But me – I had physical desire from love. Before I loved her, I had no desire whatsoever. You claim her to look as a goddess, but when I met her, she looked nothing of the sort – rather, she was a college sophomore with braces. She wasn’t ugly, but she was far from beautiful. I loved her anyway.
“Finally, I got the nerve to tell her how I felt. I had no right to keep it to myself, you see, for she wasn’t even merely the love of my life – she was also my friend. And do you know what happened? Did she ever tell you? I asked her out, and she – she couldn’t stand the sight of me after that! She didn’t love me back. On the contrary, she was creeped out! We were best friends, and she seemed to think I’d been using her, abusing her. She should’ve known that I’d never do anything to hurt her.
“The years passed. I eventually managed to win back her friendship through persistence, but she never forgave me for loving her. And finally, she married Wayne Ringle. Wayne was a good friend of mine – a very good friend. If you had been in my place, you would’ve been outraged. But me – I wished them the best.
“And when it came out that Wayne was off his rocker, I did everything I could to save him, to save them! But it didn’t work – nothing worked – and he killed himself in the end! April knew that she hadn’t always been there for him, but I couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain, pain to last a lifetime. So I told her, ‘Don’t blame yourself.’ And she looked at me straight in the eye, and asked, ‘Then who?’
“I had reached the pivotal point of my life. April loved Wayne with all her heart, despite their difficulties, and with him out of the way, perhaps I could be there for her, perhaps I’d finally have a chance. But she was guilty, and guilt, when it has a base in truth, will last a lifetime. So I made my decision – and I let her blame me instead.”
Harry fell to the ground, on his hands and knees, crying in ways that Jon had never even seen.
“So don’t you speak to me of love....” Harry continued. “You know nothing of love, nothing of what it’s like to love someone so much that you’d be willing to do anything to see them happy.... even if it means leaving their life forever.... You don’t even know what love is....”
“You.... you lied to her....”
“I could’ve had her.... maybe.... But she was so full of sorrow, so full of anger.... I didn’t want her to end up like Wayne.... I became that person who she could let it out on.... And in time, it would pass.... She would move on, remarry.... She’d live a long, happy life.... The only price was that I couldn’t be a part of it.... that she could never know the truth.... If only I could’ve saved Wayne Ringle.... I’d have done anything to save Wayne Ringle.... and then, none of this would have had to pass.... They were so.... happy....”
Jon stared at the man in front of him, the demon who had always been his rival even though they’d never met. This was the man at the bottom of totem pole, the one who had tried to ruin her life, who was never worthy of her affections. But now, it was so hard to see him that way.... So hard to see him as the murderous stalker, and not the true love.
“Tell me, Mr. Harbinger,” Harry whispered, “was she happy with you?”
“I.... I don’t know.... I did my best, but.... I.... I drank a lot....”
Harry nodded. “Did she love you?”
Jon let out a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t know.... She did at first, anyway.... and she stayed by me through it all.... but....”
“But what?”
“Harry.... Did you know she sleep talks? Every night, she whispered.... your name.... Every night for forty-seven years.... Right until her death....”
“That’s not what I wanted. I wanted her to move on.”
“She did move on. But I think.... I think a part of her always knew what you did for her.... the truth.... I just wish that I hadn’t been so blind....”
Harry looked up. “What do you mean?”
“I.... I never held a grudge for what I thought you did to Wayne – I was jealous of Wayne.... I held a grudge because she loved you, maybe more than me....”
“It’s all right, Mr. Harbinger. It doesn’t matter anymore. You gave her forty-seven joyous years, children. And for that, I am grateful. You gave her the life I never could have offered.”
“I’m.... not so sure I was worthy....”
“April was a strong woman. Maybe you weren’t worthy. But if she didn’t love you, she would never have married you, Mr. Harbinger.”
“Please, call me Jon.”
Jon took Harry’s hand, and helped him up. He brought him over to April’s grave.
“So.... you loved her?”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“You.... still love her?”
“I’ve never loved anyone else.”
They said no more. Forty-seven years. That was all that passed through Jon’s mind. Forty-seven years, and he still hadn’t moved on.
Finally, Jon put on his hat. Forty-seven hours, and he had already moved on. It was customary that the husband be the last to leave, the last to move on.
Now, only Harry remained. Just one more day.... one more day, and he’d finally move on....
