The earth produced another artefact, a small glass bottle. The Apprentice reached for it.
Tears of relief rolled down Gabriel’s face as he stood in the receiving line. His father’s eulogy in his breast pocket pressed on his heart. The words flowed as they often did when he gave himself the gift of his morning writing. Journals stacked in his closet, hidden from the world. A dirty secret. Gabriel wished he could feel grief at this moment. He simply felt the decades of his father’s disappointment flow out of him.
The only son of immigrants, ‘Gabriel’ is said to be god’s agent on earth. He was expected to make his family proud. He did so without fail. His colleagues and clients loved him. Focused, driven and categorically successful. They wanted to be around him, to be on his team. His mind drifted to their emailed notes of condolences after his father’s death. “Take some time, Gabriel, I’m sure we can handle things… How long do you think you’ll need…?” He had closed his laptop without answering. The lone hand-written note from someone he hardly knew in the adjuster’s office. He’d lost his wife earlier that year to cancer. With simple words:
“Your pain will give way in time. The memories of your father, a cherished companion.”
Warmly, T. Thériault.
Gabriel’s fiancée brought him back to the present. She clung to his arm. She was driven and successful just like him. Did he feel her nails digging in? The wedding plans were to go ahead. She whispered about the flowers and people to invite. It was all very important, to her. The anxiety rose in him. It’s all the stress he told himself. It’s all happening really fast.
He needed to get away.
“Gabriel, you’re not listening. I said, we need to put a deposit on the hall.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow, until after the funeral?”
“Well, I’m not sure…” She sulked slightly. She knew he couldn’t bear seeing her displeased.
“Ok, I’ll take care of it after the service.”
She turned on the smile and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Thank you, darling”. She returned to being the prize on his arm. Smiling serenely, nodding at the guests arriving, wiping away a tear. Confident in her place, and ability to keep it.
The priest asked them all to be seated. The sermon stretched endlessly talking of forgiveness, mercy for those who seek His love. The lack of air in the church increased the stress for Gabriel as he waited to say his father’s eulogy.
He had been preparing his whole life for this moment. Especially the past few years. He couldn’t shake the sense of relief he felt. He shouldn’t feel this way, but he couldn’t help it. He felt a boot lift from his neck. His father’s eyes no longer looking on him with disappointment. Gabriel glanced at his beautiful fiancée and felt the heaviness return. ‘Nerves’, he told himself. The priest beckoned.
Gabriel stood up and walked toward the front of the church pulling his notes out of his breast pocket. He hadn’t stood in the sanctuary of the church since being an altar boy in grade school. He knew the ‘backstage’ details of the sanctuary, where the priest kept the wine – the ‘good stuff’ and the stuff he gave to the parishioners. It was all a kind of theatre, meant to keep the congregation believing in the power of the church and most importantly, the priest.
The casket was open. His father lay as he remembered him, cold and stone-faced. Gabriel felt his father’s eyes on him even now. He felt all their eyes on him. His extended family, his fiancée and friends. His colleagues showed up to be seen, to be counted. Did they really give a shit in this moment? Doubtful.
He looked out over the faces and took a breath. He saw a lone man sitting by himself, the one from the adjuster’s office. The words came slowly.
“I want to thank you for being here today. My father…”, his voice caught.
He thought about the mountain of responsibilities that had been put upon him. The choices that weren’t really choices. His ulcer burped acid in his throat as he spoke of a father’s love. Not his father’s but someone’s. He had found the words through research rather than experience. He was never sure he knew love. A tear came to his eye, a lump in his throat and those in attendance felt they understood his pain. Eyes were dabbed in sympathy. His fiancée taking the opportunity to make a show of her pain, weeping openly as though it was her own father dead. Those around her giving her comfort.
The theatricality of this moment. The great tragedy, all the players in their positions, carefully crafted words spoken and the shared solemnity of the occasion. Gabriel wanted to spew his resentment and pain at them. Not the pain they assumed. He was barely holding back the vitriol. The enormous pressure that had built over his lifetime.
As he began to speak again, a figure appeared through the rear doors and moved to sit in the back pew. It looked like they might have been homeless, knees covered in dirt. An old hat on their head. Dirty gloves on their hands. No one seemed to see them or moved to turn them away. They sat looking at Gabriel. They closed their eyes as though to pray.
A murmuration of starlings hit the stained-glass windows. One of the panes shattered and several birds fell among the mourners. Screams of panic sent people running to the exits. Gabriel stood at the lectern, next to his father’s casket still holding his notes. The church cleared of people including the priest. The incense hung in the air. The figure sat quietly at the back. Still praying. The flapping of the starling’s wings could be heard outside as the murmuration reoriented and flew away, members of their flock lost and forgotten.
Gabriel walked to the back of the sanctuary where the pillar candles stood sentinel. He put his notes in the flame and let them burn, placing them on a small silver platter used for communion. He walked to his father’s casket and dumped the ashes on his body.
“Take these lies with you.” He slammed the lid closed.
The stunned starlings flew up from where they fell and out the broken window. The figure was no longer in the pew.
Gabriel walked out the rear door of the church, past the chipped angels, musty robes and scattered bottles of communal wine. His father’s casket was put in the ground later that day, the beautifully carved headstone marked the place that Gabriel would never visit.
The Apprentice put the glass bottle in her pocket.
This is a re-write of an earlier draft, focusing on the Gabriel character.
Your comments/ questions are welcome.