I walked to my car quickly, ready to get into the procession which would lead us all to the gravesite where Arnold would at last be laid to rest permanently.
I could feel the eyes upon me. I knew they were out there. Across the street I saw a few local news vans taking some exterior and long range shots, but none of them were coming closer to do interviews or ask any questions. They had to be terrified to do so, but I couldn’t help thinking that sometimes the story was too great, even for salaried journalists and broadcasters. They had to have some tyrant of a boss breathing down their necks to get the scoop.
The gravesite was only a fifteen-minute drive from the church, but it felt much longer. We were all going at the slow, leisurely pace of a funeral procession, but somehow it felt like I’d been moving along the streets and the stopped traffic for hours.
I was lost inside my head, dreaming of the times I’d spent with Arnold, and wishing that I’d never allowed myself to get so caught up with work and success that I forgot about him. I’d taken him for granted, that he’d always be there and that one day I would pay him a visit.
But time had dissipated on me. It had simply run out. I’d allowed my work and my family to take up all of my time. It was ok to feel guilty about working too much, but I would never apologize for the times that I’d spent with Toby.
Toby…he’d never met Arnold. Why was that? I kept telling myself that I was too busy and the logistics never worked out, but truthfully, I was trying to protect my son. I didn’t want him around this life, even briefly.
Did that mean I didn’t think Arnold was good enough to meet my son?
Tears rolled out of my eyes as I came to this thought. I felt a knife entering my chest and piercing me deeply. My heart was breaking from the strain of it. Arnold had probably thought this at some point. I’d broken his heart. I knew it. Why? Why didn’t I ever take the time to visit him, or take Toby? Was it true? Did I think my son was too good for Arnold?
I did. I knew I did. I didn’t have to even think about it. There was no question about it. The man I considered a father to me was not good enough to meet my son.
What was wrong with me? I’d broken his heart and I didn’t even realize it. In the past four years I hadn’t thought about this even once. I’d never even told Gina about Arnold. That part of my life was a secret, a chapter from my past I didn’t want to relive. I’d been a scared, angry kid whose head was all messed up.
Arnold had fixed me though. And I owed him everything.
And I let him down.
When I arrived at the graveyard, I spent a few minutes wiping the tears from my eyes. I wondered if Arnold ever talked to Ranier about any of this, or if Ranier had just put it together on his own. No wonder he was angry at me, even more than his usual self.
I’d done something horrible and I felt almost like I needed to be punished somehow.
But never getting to speak to my mentor again was the worst punishment I ever could have devised.
And it had been decided for me.
“Things are going to be different,” Max said.
I’d barely heard a word the priest said during the graveside service before they lowered Arnold’s body down into his grave. It was all a dream, some bizarre other world where everything was covered under a thick veil of fog and I couldn’t see what was happening in front of me. All I could do was wrestle with my guilt and fight back the tears that threatened to break me down.
And now it was over. Everyone was consoling each other and slowly walking towards their cars to head back for the reception. Reception… I’ve never understood why people have food and drinks after someone dies. Is it to celebrate the life, or to artificially comfort themselves? Maybe a bit of both?
I preferred to wallow in the misery of it until I was too overcome to move, and then it was time to fight back through it.
“Yeah, they’ve been different for a while,” Ranier said. “But now, it is beyond repair.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but I nodded anyway.
“Hey, it’s great to see you, Mason. You’ve been a stranger for a while,” Max said.
He shook my hand. He and I had always gotten along pretty well. We were the same age, just like Ranier. Max’s dad used to be a high ranking member of the crew until he was found dead in his car one night, a bullet in his back. That was part of the reality that came with this kind of world, a world that I was glad to be removed from.