Forsaken Love

Chapter 20

“Friends,” the officiate glanced at a small group of people slightly to the left of Jim. “Loved ones,” his focus shifted to Jim and his parents. “Family,” and concluded at Evelyn’s. “It is an honor and privilege to tribute today to a very special person. Evelyn Collins was loved by many, and loved many. She lived more in her 20 years than many do in 50. We all have memories that define Evelyn that we carry with us, memories that we will always hold dear. For as long we remember them, she will never truly be gone. I would like to invite you all to share some of those memories with us today.”

Jim stared at the closed casket. His heart ached to see her once more, but he knew that would only add to the already overwhelming depression. He looked down. A small self-created puddle already lay at his feet. He ignored his surroundings. He noticed feet walking past him toward the casket, but never bothered to identify them. He heard voices, but none of their words. As time passed, the ground turned into clouds, the cemetery into the sky. And Jim was alone.

The sun shined brightly at a spot just in front of Jim. Its rays connected the sun to the clouds, and a figure robed in white descended down the rays. The blinding sun hid the figure’s face, but as soon as the figure touched the cloud, the rays vanished, and revealed her face. “Evelyn?”

“Do not mourn,” she said. “For we will one day be reunited.” 

“But it’s too soon,” Jim argued. “You were so young.”

Evelyn held up a finger. “Your pain is temporary. Your love is forever.” 

Jim knelt down. The clouds felt just as solid hard as the ground had in the cemetery. Yet his tears sank right through the clouds. Or perhaps, they joined them. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. This is all my fault.”

Evelyn continued talking as if she had not heard Jim’s words. “No matter how you feel right now, remember you are not alone. You have your family. You have your friends. Watch over them. Take care of them.” The rays returned. Evelyn began her ascent back up toward the sun. Jim reached out to her but his hands swung right through her. “Tell Bruce I loved him and the time we spent together, however short it was.” As Evelyn floated into the sun, Jim thought he saw her lips move to say “Goodbye.” Then the cemetery returned. 

Only his family and Evelyn’s remained standing around her casket. “I saw her,” Jim said.

“What?” His father asked. 

“Evelyn. I saw Evelyn.”

“When?” Mrs. Collins asked. She looked at her husband with worry. 

“Just now, right in front of me. She came down from the sun to say a few last words.”

Mrs. Hughes sighed. “Oh Jim. You are imagining things again. That is not healthy.” She puts her hands on his shoulders. “She is dead. It is important you accept that. She is not coming back.” 

“But I saw her! She said we would be reunited.” He slid his mother’s hands off him. “I must find her!” Jim dashed away past the cars. He collided into Bruce, who waited by the cars for her family, then fell to the ground with a thud. “She’s alive,” he tried to convince Bruce.

Bruce sighed, staring down in sorrow at him. Bruce grabs Jim’s hand and pulls him up. “Come on,” Bruce said. “How about you and me get out of here?” 

All Jim only managed to nod. 

Bruce walked him back to the adults. “Can I have the keys?” Jim heard Bruce ask Evelyn’s parents. “I’m going to take him someplace.” 

Mr. Collins handed him the keys without hesitation.

“Don’t wait up for us.”

Bruce led Jim to Secarus River. He rested his small bag on the wood next to his feet. They both stood on the bridge, but neither said a word. They simply watched the river’s water flow, watched the minnows swim, and the toads splash. 

After some time, Jim sighed and looked up at his companion. “What are we doing here?”

Bruce seemed to ignore the question. “I lost a sister once,” he began. “When I was 10. I had much of the same reaction as you. I didn’t believe it at first. I guess at the time, I was still unfamiliar with the concept of death, and didn’t truly understand what happened. Everytime I went into her room, nothing would feel different. All of her things remained, and because she never left the house without her favorite stuffed bear, I always convinced myself she’d return for it. I would walk into her room every morning after waking up to say hi to her for three months before I realized she was never coming back.”

“Is there a point to all this?” Jim asked.

“Of course there is,” Bruce’s eyes met Jim’s. “I know even if I told you not to be like me, you probably still would. Evelyn talked about you everyday, you know. She told me that you are the type of person who deeply cherishes the past and will do all you can to be reminded of it. You reflect on and learn from your past, while others try to run away from theirs. She loved that about you.” Bruce paused, his gaze looked out at the river. “You return to places that hold a special meaning to you. A place like this.” Bruce waved his arm out to indicate their surroundings. He reached into his bag as he said, “And I have a feeling no one can convince you not to come back here. So I’m going to help you.” He handed Jim a piece of paper. “I’m going to be your new Evelyn. Your new best friend.” 

Jim scoffed. “You can’t just replace her.”

“I’m not trying to replace her. I’m trying to make sure you are not alone, that you don’t throw away months, maybe even years, of your life mourning those you’ve lost. When you reflect on your past, on Evelyn, you may feel regret. It’s natural. But you can use that regret to honor Evelyn as I am. To me, you are a reminder of her and all the good times we were blessed with together. I want to be a reminder of her for you too. I’m giving you a reason and opportunity to move on with your life. It’s what she’d want.” Bruce kept his hand, still holding the piece of paper, hovering toward Jim. 

Jim simply stared at his hand back while in thought, offering a long duration of silence. Jim’s state of sorrow prevented him from responding, no matter how much time he had. Perhaps one day he would learn to agree with Bruce’s words. But today was not that day. Today, Jim had only one desire. 

He looked away from Bruce’s hand, focusing his attention to the river. After some more moments of silence, Jim walked away, not speaking another word to Bruce. He endured hunger and exhaustion to return to Evelyn’s tombstone, reading it for the first time. Evelyn Marie Collins, B. September 27 1981. D. November 12 2000. What we keep in our memory is ours unchanged forever. 

Jim knelt beside the tombstone, grabbed a handful of grass, and said, “I’m sorry.”