Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

Author's Notes: Content/trigger warning. There is an accident scene in this story.

The heart monitor beside Mike Castle’s hospital bed beeped steadily, letting doctors, nurses, and visitors know that he was at least alive and in stable condition. He was breathing with the help of a respirator. Peter Palmer sat down in a chair beside Mike’s bed and ran his hand over his face and unkempt hair with a heavy sigh. The past few days had been stressing him out and it felt like he had the physical weight of the world on his shoulders.

“This is all my fault,” he said with another sigh. “I’m so sorry, Mike. Idiot! How could I have let this happen?”

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from the open hospital room doorway. Peter looked up and saw Mrs. Castle standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, an expression of pain and anger carved into her otherwise beautiful face. “We don’t want you here!”

Beside her stood Mike’s dad, Mr. Castle, with his arms and hands at his side.

“I suggest you get out of here, Pete,” Mr. Castle warned gently.

“Go! Now! Before we call security!” Mrs. Castle screeched.

“Love,” Mr. Castle said soothingly, rubbing Mrs. Castle’s arm. “Love, calm down.”

“Don’t you ‘love, calm down’ me!” Mrs. Castle retorted. “He’s the reason why Mike is here in this hospital room in the first place!”

“You’re right,” Peter said, head down. “You’re right, I should go. Excuse me.”

And with that, he left the hospital and went straight home. As soon as he got home, he searched for Scorpions on Spotify and pressed play on Rock You Like A Hurricane, putting it on repeat. He shouted out the lyrics, singing loudly along to it.

“Can you please turn that thing off?” Peter’s younger brother Edmund, whom he shared the room with, said. “I’m trying to study here.”

“Go study somewhere else,” Peter shot back, throwing daggers at Edmund with his eyes. “Leave me alone!”

Right at that moment, the door to their room burst open and in came their sister Susan.

“What the Hell, Pete?” Susan yelled. “Turn that thing down, will you? I can hear it from my room!”

“This doesn’t concern you!” Peter yelled back. “Go back to your room and stuff some cotton in your ears if you want!”

“Dad’s so gonna hear about this,” Susan said. “And what is that? My body is burning, it starts to shout. Desire is coming, it breaks out loud. Lust is in cages till storm breaks loose. Just have to make it with someone I choose? Really, Pete? Really? You’re listening to a song about sex and lust? The Hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how young Lucy is?”

“Everything, apparently!” Peter shouted, slamming his laptop screen down and cutting off the music.

“Hey! Keep it down in there!” an angry next-door neighbor screamed. “There’s a sleeping baby here!”

“You shut up and keep out of this!” Peter screamed back through the open window.

“Peter William Palmer!” Susan scolded.

“Did you really just tell Loretta to shut up?” Edmund laughed, apparently enjoying that bit. “Oh, now, Dad’s really gonna hear about that one.”

Peter and Edmund were typical brothers, rejoicing in the other’s trouble. But then Edmund’s face softened when Susan realized something.

“Wait,” Susan thought aloud. “Is this about what happened four days ago?”

Four days ago...

“Amen,” the group said as youth group leader Romeo Collins concluded the prayer.

“And that’s a wrap on our Bible study, guys” Romeo said. “Now! Who wants some late-night coffee?”

Everyone raised their hands, including Lucy, the youngest member of Lakeview Baptist Church’s youth group.

“You should join us,” Fred, one of the teens said to Alex, their guest.

“Yeah, come join us,” Romeo said. “We’d love to have you and get to know you more.”

Alex Kim had joined the youth Bible study that night to promote the ministry he was involved in. It was a mission-minded Korean ministry that sent teens, college students, and young professionals out to closed Muslim countries in the Middle East. 

“Yeah, sure,” Alex conceded. “Why not? It’s a Friday night, I don’t have school tomorrow.”

“Let’s go,” Romeo said.

“Which café are we going to?” a youth group member asked.

“Either Cool Beans or Java Junction,” Romeo answered.

“We should probably go with Java Junction,” Peter suggested. “It’s the closest to the church.”

“Let’s vote on it,” Romeo’s brother Noah proposed. “All in favor of Cool Beans, say aye.”

A few hands shot up in the air with a weak “Aye”.

“All in favor of Java Junction, say aye,” Peter said.

“Aye,” majority of the kids said, raising their hands.

“You’re not voting?” Fred asked, nudging Alex in the side.

“Uh-uh, new guy,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“I’m not voting either,” Lucy said.

“Why not?” Romeo asked.

“It doesn’t matter where I think we should go or where you think we should go,” Lucy said with a shrug.

“Six votes for Cool Beans, twelve for Java Junction, and two abstentions,” Romeo said. “Majority wins the vote! Java Junction it is then!”

At Java Junction, the group ordered their food and drinks and put a couple of tables together enough to fit twenty people. They ate, talked, drank their iced and hot coffees, Frappuccinos and slushies, and played card games. They played a couple rounds of Uno, a couple rounds of Apples To Apples, a couple rounds of Pharisees, and a couple rounds of Edmund’s favorite game, Codenames. They talked about what languages they spoke, their hobbies, their hopes and dreams, and where they got their names. Pastor Palmer and his wife Helen were big C.S. Lewis enthusiasts and just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to name their four children after the Pevensies. The youth group also learned that night that Mike Castle could read, write, and speak Japanese. Peter learned from Alex that there were similar or nearly similar words in Chinese and Korean. They were full and they were having fun. As much fun as they were having, however, the time finally came for them to go. Java Junction was closing, and it was close to midnight as well. Parents were starting to worry. They were starting to call. Phones were starting to ring.

“I can drop Mike off at his house,” Alex volunteered. “It seems I live close by. I didn’t know he lives right by where I live. It’s no bother, really. I can do it.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Peter said. “He should ride with one of us. Fred can take him.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Fred acquiesced. “Mike’s place is close to mine too.”

“No, no, I insist,” Alex said. “I can take him home. I’ll do it.”

“Call your mom, you hear me?” Peter said with a sigh, finally giving in, even though he felt in his heart of hearts it was a really bad idea.

“Yeah, sure,” Mike said with a nod. “I’ll do that.”

But he never did.

Even though Peter Palmer was the oldest in the group, Romeo Collins was the appointed (or maybe self-anointed and self-appointed) youth group leader. But Collins was irresponsible most of the time, taking for granted the safety of the group, especially the youngest members. He had no respect for curfew, it seemed. So it fell to Peter to be responsible—a burden placed on him by Pastor Palmer, the kids’ parents, and himself. After all, he was the pastor’s son. He should set an example for them if Romeo Collins couldn’t (or rather wouldn’t). But that night, it seemed his good judgment flew out the window.

When they got home, Peter did some studying for some of his classes for a few more hours, while Susan, Edmund, and Lucy went straight to bed after freshening up. Edmund lay on his side facing the wall, with a pillow over his head so he wouldn’t be disturbed by Peter’s desk lamp and laptop screen. At around 2AM, the door of their room opened, and the ceiling light hummed to life. Edmund groaned, pulling his blanket and comforter over his pillow-covered head.

“Where is Mike?” Pastor Palmer asked.

“Isn’t he home yet?” Peter asked, looking at his clock, puzzled.

“I just got off the phone with Mrs. Castle,” Pastor Palmer said. “She called me. It’s already 2AM and Mike isn’t home yet. Did he not ride with one of you? Answer me!”

“No,” Peter admitted. “Alex insisted on dropping him off because he said he just lived nearby so it wasn’t a bother.”

“That’s not the point!” Pastor Palmer shouted, losing his temper a bit. “Alex is new to the group! Mike doesn’t know him; he doesn’t know Mike! Why would you let him ride with Alex?”

“I said it was a really bad idea, but Alex insisted on it!” Peter protested, shouting back. “I tried to warn him and Mike!”

“What is going on?” a very sleepy and irritated Mrs. Palmer said, appearing behind her husband in the doorway. She scratched her head. “It’s already 2AM!”

“Your son here did something really stupid!” Pastor Palmer said. “He agreed to let Mike ride with Alex! And now, Mike isn’t home yet. I just spoke to Christy and Jack.”

“What?” Edmund said, finally sitting up, alarmed. “What do you mean Mike isn’t home yet? He should’ve been home two hours ago.”

“Are you nuts?” Mrs. Palmer asked, her blood pressure rising. “Why would you let him ride with this Alex guy? What if he’s a kidnapper or an axe murderer?”

“Mom, relax!” Peter said. “Alex is a devout Christian too! He’s not an axe murderer or a kidnapper. Stop exaggerating. You’re both being paranoid!”

“Tell that to Mike’s worried parents,” Pastor Palmer said with a sigh. “I hope you know what you just did.”

Thirty minutes later, the Castles received a call from Lakeview Police Department. There’d been an accident on the highway. There were broken glass and blue lights everywhere. There was a lot of blood on the scene and both Alex and Mike had to be airlifted to Lakeview Memorial Teaching Hospital. Things looked very grim and it was predicted that neither of them would last the night.

Present day...

“Look,” Susan said, consoling her brother the best she could. “This isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. It was just unlucky circumstance. Nobody’s at fault here. You tried to tell Alex and Mike it was a bad idea. Alex has a good heart and he had good intentions. He didn’t mean any harm.”

“Huh,” was all Peter could say before brushing Susan’s hand aside and marching out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Edmund asked.

“Out! I need some air,” Peter answered shortly.

In the hall, Peter met Lucy and brushed past her.

“Where are you off to?” Lucy asked.

“Nowhere that concerns you,” Peter said.

“Peter!” Susan scolded.

Lucy’s lower lip and chin quivered and her eyes swam with tears. Susan ran to her sister’s side to comfort her.

“Peter William Palmer!” Susan said. “You apologize to Lucy right this instant!”

“Sorry,” Peter said, not really meaning it. “You happy now?”

Lucy’s tears began to fall.

“I’m sorry, Lu,” Susan said, comfortingly. “Pete’s just having a bad week, that’s all. He’ll come around. You’ll see.”

Peter slammed the door on his way out of the parsonage and he ran furiously for three miles until he ended up at a boxing gym. He rented boxing gloves and started beating on a punching bag that was available.

“Damn it!” Punch.

“Stupid!” Punch.

“Idiot!” Punch.

“How could you let this happen?” Punch.

“You’re a bloody moron!” Punch.

“What were you thinking?” Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.

“What the Hell is wrong with you?” Punch.

“Were you even thinking at all?” Punch.

“Irresponsible!” Punch.

“No-good!” Punch.

“Piece of crap!” Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Kick.

This went on for almost an hour. There was a lot of screaming, crying, punching, and kicking, until Peter tired himself out. He sat there on the floor, beside the ring, his head thrown back.

“This is all my fault,” he said with a sigh.