The Edge of Hope

Chapter 14

Gabe was sure he was going to stare a hole through the ground with how he had been staring at it for the last twenty minutes. His eyes felt dry and scratchy but it couldn’t be compared to the heaviness that sat on his chest, forbidding him from taking a full breath.

He glanced to the side when Dan sat next to him on the cream fabric-covered chairs, lifting the pamphlet with Hope’s bright smile on the front. ‘Gone too soon, but never forgotten.’

He cringed at the cliché words but they held truth.

Dan discreetly held out a small flask to Gabe, who took a swig without thinking twice about it. He welcomed the burn travelling down his throat and into his stomach, although probably not the best idea considering he hadn’t eaten in two days.

“Thanks,” Gabe mumbled. He shifted as Carol brushed past him, followed by Sal and greeted them with a nod as they sat down.

Carol hadn’t bothered with any makeup with all the crying she had been doing. Sal looked like he hadn’t slept since… that night. Which was probably true.

Gabe saw Carol look back at the other guests arriving, fellow school teachers and some of the parents of Hope’s patients.

She scoffed as she faced the front and crossed her arms over her chest. “Like these people even cared,” she spat bitterly.

“Hey, these were her colleagues, she was close to some of them,” Dan trod carefully. He lowered himself at the glare he got from Carol.

“No fighting, you two, please,” Sal whispered. “They’re here, and that’s what matters.”

Gabe had wanted to interject but just pulling himself out of bed had been exhausting. He didn’t have it in him to utter more than two words at a time.

Someone approached the casket facing the crowd, adorned with Hope’s favourite flowers: tulips in all different shades. A blown-up picture that matched the one on the pamphlet was placed in a wooden frame, surrounded by roses and Baby’s Breath.

The priest cleared his throat and told everyone to take a seat. As soon as everyone had quieted down, he pulled out a small bible and began his generic speech.

“This is ridiculous,” Gabe said.

Dan peeked over and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I told him to make it short and sweet.” He lowered his voice further. “Do you want to say anything?”

Gabe gave it some thought and shook his head. “It won’t bring her back so what’s the point?”

Dan drew his eyebrows together and knew better than to argue with his friend. Everyone grieves differently and he just needed time. “Alright, I hope you don’t mind, I asked if I could give a eulogy.”

Gabe offered a small smile. “No, I don’t.”

“I believe a close friend of Hope would like to say a few things,” the priest said out to the crowd.

Dan stood up, straightened his jacket and went to stand by the priest, who nodded at him and moved aside.

“So, um… I’ll keep this short. I met Hope a while back, she was still a student, finishing off her studies. She was struggling with her paper and fate had brought her to my friend here” – he gestured to Gabe – “who helped her and she excelled. She had such a profound understanding of people and their feelings. She only ever had pure intentions and I don’t think there was a single malicious cell in her.” Dan cleared his throat. “I will be honest, I’m not a religious man, but I do think that heaven was missing an angel, and I can’t think of any other reason for Hope to be taken from us, other than to fill that role,” his voice broke on the last words. Some sniffs and sobbing could be heard across the crowd.

Gabe felt his own eyes stinging. He took a deep breath and looked at Dan who seemed to be struggling to find his words. He made eye contact with Gabe, who nodded his head, which Dan returned.

“Hope was… she was kind and brave. I know we’ll meet again someday but until then,” he picked a flower from the arrangement and placed it on the top of the casket. He opened and closed his mouth a few times and eventually sighed with resignation. “Until then.” He shuffled back to his seat where Carol gave him a kiss and thanked him for his words.

Gabe placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “Thanks, man.”

The three of them looked to Sal when the priest asked if anyone else wanted to say something but he simply looked away, his body shaking. This was the second time he’d lost family. What could he say?

Eventually, everyone all stood in line, placing a flower on top and saying their last goodbyes.

When Gabe approached, his heart felt like it was rising in his throat. He didn’t care that tears had kept slipping out. He didn’t bother wiping them away.

He gently lay the flower down flat with his hand and rested his palm there for a few seconds. “I should’ve stayed.” The breeze picked up and he felt a brush across his cheek, causing him to stumble back slightly. “Hope?” he whispered. Silence. He shook his head and turned around, walking straight to his car. He needed to get out of there before he lost his mind.

“Gabe!” Dan called out.

“Yeah?”

“Are you joining us at Carol’s? I mean, we understand if you don’t want to, but…”

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck, an internal war making his eyes hurt. “I… I suppose I should.” He looked to Sal who was now by the casket, mumbling away. “I’m not the only one who lost her.”

“That’s great. Well, Carol and I are going to go to get everything set up. So we’ll see you later?”

Gabe nodded. “I’ll catch up shortly.”

Dan walked to his car and Carol came up to Gabe, wrapping her arms around him. He returned the hug, grateful that there were so many people who had loved Hope so deeply.

“See you later, Gabe.”

He watched everyone filter out to their cars and ride off slowly. The last guest left and he meandered his way back to where they were getting ready to lower the casket to the ground.

His anger at himself for leaving on bad terms that night, with Alice being there, all of it was festering into unexplainable darkness. Alice had been arrested but it didn’t feel like enough.

Gabe wanted to blame her but truly, it was his fault. He left. He never apologised. He never saw just how bad a person Alice actually was, even though people warned him.

Hope disappeared into the ground and the men started filling the hole up with dirt. Lost to the earth and never to return.

He clenched his jaw and abruptly turned around and stormed off to his car.

When he sat there, the engine running, he couldn’t bring himself to move. It’s like he was leaving her all over again. He slammed the steering wheel over and over and over again until he had bruised his knuckles, the pain still not distracting him from his broken heart.

Gabe ran his hands through his hair and pulled away, heading to Carol’s house. He was running late now but he didn’t care. He was sure people would understand.

*****

Once at her house, he walked around like a robot, accepting everyone’s condolences and thanking them with the same answer as a broken record.

“You good?” Dan asked as he sidled next to Gabe with a tumbler of whiskey being offered to him.

“Thanks. And yeah. How’s Sal?”

“He’s… well as okay as someone in his position could be. He’s out by the courtyard. Maybe you should speak to him.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you now.”

Gabe found Sal sitting on the wooden bench, a glass of juice in his hand and a half-eaten muffin. He was still, his eyes not even moving to Gabe as he closed the glass door behind him.

He sat cautiously next to Sal and waited for a few seconds before saying anything.

“Dan’s speech was wonderful,” Sal croaked. “I couldn’t have said anything half as good.” He sniffed and took a sip of his drink.

“I’m sure your speech would have been more than great.”

“Don’t butter me up, son. You know I’m not great with these things.”

Gabe huffed and sipped his whiskey. “Well, it would have been from you. I know that’s all that would matter to Hope.”

At the mention of her name, Sal took in a sharp breath. A cool breeze picked up again and tilted the flowers back and forth as if they were dancing. Gabe was mesmerized by their movement for some reason.

“Thank you for finding the tulips. I couldn’t seem to come right. I couldn’t seem to get anything right,” Sal broke down.

Gabe immediately placed an arm around Sal and just let him cry. He didn’t need to say anything. Hearing his pain, and his loss made Gabe’s worse. This man had lost a daughter before and now he had to experience the same trauma again.

“You’re here, Sal. And as you said, that’s all that matters.”

When all he did was choke in response, Gabe noticed the breeze again. He furrowed his eyebrows. It was uncommon for this kind of wind this time of year. It was warm and soft. And floral.

Again, Gabe had the urge to just say Hope’s name but the glass door opened before he could utter the word.

“Sorry to disturb, um, Gabe, some of the teachers wanted to talk to you. Something about coming to see the students and trauma?”

Gabe grumbled and stood up. “I’ll be back.”

“No, no. You go do your thing. I’m quite enjoying the wind.”

Gabe left Sal and smiled softly at the sudden calm that overcame him. It was like the breeze was blowing away all of Sal’s pain and filling him with acceptance. Something Gabe was hoping to be filled with soon. But right now, he had duties to attend to.