returned with a well-dressed woman who had a name tag on her jacket and a key in her hand.
“Are you in fact Aries Creed?” the woman questioned without a formal greeting.
“Yes.”
“May I see some identification please?” He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and presented his license. The woman reviewed it, verifying his full name and mailing address. Seconds later, the woman undid the pristine gold lock on the box. She then removed its contents, a white envelope, and placed it in his palm. The lady turned to leave, saying no more.
“Wait. Hold on. How’d you know that was for me?” Aries questioned.
“Mr. Creed requested in writing that should his son, Aries Creed, come visit him here, he should be given this. He placed it into the black box himself while finalizing his arrangements. We were already on our way after reviewing the electronic sign-in list. It was in his final wishes.” The woman tossed on a pleasant smile, and headed out of the crypt towards the golf cart she’d driven, leaving the two of them there. Aries held that envelope for a while longer, then tore it open. He unfolded the letter, then read it silently to himself.
Minutes passed, but to him, they felt like seconds. Heavy, hateful, bloody, nasty, horrific seconds. In his peripheral vision, he could see Lauren standing there patiently, but she kept her eyes on him, barely blinking. Waiting. At last, he slowly folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. He placed it inside his coat pocket, his hand shaking as he did so.
“What’s wrong, Aries?”
He swallowed and felt his entire world spinning.
“Baby, I’ll be fine. Let’s go. We need to go.” He grabbed Lauren’s hand and they walked quietly back to his truck. Once they got in the vehicle, he tried to convince himself his head wasn’t about to explode.
“Aries, please talk to me. You don’t have to show me the letter, but your reaction has me worried. I—”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get you back home.” He could offer her nothing else. No. Something like this required a quiet place to fall apart. And definitely, not in mixed company…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The God in the Father
Aries stood over his sleeping mother, his motorcycle helmet in one hand while his other twitched. The pale pink sheets were pulled high around her form. He watched her chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. He had no idea how long he’d been standing there. It could’ve been five seconds or five minutes.
The room smelled like her. And death. Perhaps as she did the bare minimum, refused to at times even leave her room, the two were one and the same. It was cool in there. Darkness surrounded him. There was no warmth, no feeling, no passion or healing. He placed his helmet down on a nearby table covered in stacked magazines, an empty cup, and a few old pennies. He had no idea why they were there. He made his way over to the window.
The thick curtains were drawn tight, so he tugged at the fabric, exposing an almost full moon that bore her mesmerizing essence for all to see. A torrent of silver light flashed across the woman’s face, illuminating that milky skin and dark hair which had been her true calling card. As he pulled up a chair to sit beside her, it scraped along the floor. Her eyes fluttered, and then, she opened them. Her gaze found him, and his breathing slowed, matching her own.
“Aaaaa… Aaaa…” She tried to speak, say his name. He stood to his full height, went near her and turned on a small reading lamp clamped to the side of her bed. It didn’t offer much light, but just enough to see a printed crossword puzzle or unwrap a piece of hard candy. He reached into his leather coat pocket and retrieved all of the letters from Benjamin. He clutched them, scanned a few sentences, then looked back at her, trying to muster a smile.
“Mama, you may or may not remember, but I told you that Benjamin Creed had left some letters for me and you. At the time, I wasn’t certain if I’d find them, and a part of me didn’t care. Well, I did find the letters, Mama.” She placed her hand across her chest, and then, her eyes drifted to the papers. “I want to read them to you, if that’s all right.”