I'm Tired of Running

This story contains death, talking tentatively about substance abuse, and some language.

            The organ sounded like a horn in the deep. My feet hurt, but that was far from the focus of the moment. Row after row of men and women alike mostly staring straight ahead, tears welling in their eyes, while the rest admired the salt residue on their shoes. The air hung heavy; each breath felt forced as the elephant sat on everybody’s chest. My eyes were dry even as my heart was full, but Charlie’s eyes glistened in the reflection of the sun through stained glass windows. His face was straight, carved directly from granite. I hadn’t known Sean. I think we met once, but that was a few years ago and I wasn’t exactly sober. Charlie knew him well, though. I heard plenty of stories, each one crazier than the last. It’s hard to believe we’re here.

         “You may be seated,” a voice boomed from the pulpit as the organ notes dimmed to background noise. I sat immediately, but Charlie lingered a little before joining, staring into the distance and probably into the past. I doubt he saw the old church he grew up in, the people who knew him before university, nor his oldest friend lying in a box in front of the preacher. I don’t think he’d seen much these last couple of days. The trip from Colorado had been a long one, around fifteen hours to this small town in Kentucky, and I insisted on driving the entire way. How could I not? Charlie didn’t argue past the polite formalities either, I think he wanted the time to think. His eyes never left the edge of the road.

         The sermon was the basic focus on hope in heaven and the Preacher making promises of salvation he couldn’t verify. I had grown up going to church a couple of times a month, so I knew the gist. Honestly, it never quite clicked for me, and never really thought about it after going to college. It also helped that Sundays were the days I slept off that weekend’s hangover. I knew that Charlie grew up going to church more religiously than I, that he seemed to be in a similar state of indifference as me, but I can’t read his thoughts now as his eyes trace the cross behind the altar.

         After the short sermon on streets of gold and oceans of glass, people were invited to speak. A longer line was formed than I would have expected. Most everybody praised his heart, work ethic, thoughtfulness, or faith in God. Charlie’s eyes bore holes into the ground at his feet, the only evidence to show he was aware of the shift in the service. The last speaker was Sean’s Dad.

         “I hardly know what to say. I guess thanking you all for coming is a good start. It means the world to me. He touched so many people. I was blessed to have him as a child. I could go on about how perfect he was, but that would take away from the truth,” he wiped tears from his eyes and stifled a sniffle.

         “After his mom died, after my wife…, he went through a rough patch, we both did. I remember it all: the anger, grief, confusion, the blame we spewed at a distant God who seemed not to care. I couldn’t fall apart, so I held it all in and just kept going. I think he followed my example, as an eight-year-old tends to do, no matter how bad of an example it was.”

         The room had grown somehow quieter, it was the loudest silence I’d ever heard.

         “I saw him grow up fighting a battle alone. I saw the mistakes he made in high school trying to cope with the pain he’d buried, and there were plenty. I saw the friends he’d made, the ways they influenced him their brokenness, and the ways they gave him release that I couldn’t provide.” He glanced towards us, and Charlie’s eyes flickered ever so slightly.

         “He was lost, they were lost, but I was blessed as he was pulled from the depths by a better father than I could ever be. I was still lost in the movement of life, avoiding the pain at all costs, when Sean found the Lord in a way that changed both of our lives. I saw hope ignite in him that I didn’t understand. He started dragging me back to church and got involved with the service team here. I watched him flourish and heal by the grace of God. He had finally started to live instead of just running. The darkness was important because it made the light shine even brighter. We could all see the change in his life, for which I praise the Lord every day. While it breaks me to know that his life was cut short by that damn truck, I thank Heaven that he got a chance to truly live despite my mistakes and will live for eternity with God.”

         With that, he couldn’t hold in his tears anymore and started to cry. It’s hard to watch a grown man cry and even harder not to be moved to tears by it. A tear carved its way down Charlie’s cheek as we were dismissed to pay respects at the casket and head to the cemetery. I followed Charlie down the aisle and out the door, each step he took seemed heavier than the last.

         Not as many people came to the burial, but that made sense. The only reason I was there was to support Charlie, everyone else was either family or very close friends. Nothing I’d ever seen could have prepared me for that. Seeing the coffin get lowered into the bleakest hole, impossibly deep and yet too shallow at the same time. It gave me chills. I could tell it affected Charlie too, he struggled to keep his eyes on his old friend as Sean was laid to his final resting place. The formalities were gone through again and a few more people shared a memory or two, his father didn’t say anything beyond a simple thank you.

Honestly, the comments were touching, but I was more concerned with Charlie. He never stopped watching that big brown box. The setting had changed, but that stare hadn’t changed since he got the news. We were throwing a party at our place with most of the usual people and all the usual drinks. Charlie and I were running the beer-die table when I went to the bathroom in between games. When I got back, Charlie was nowhere to be seen. I asked around and was eventually sent outside by the only sober person there. He had to take a call and stepped out. It made sense, although taking calls didn’t seem like the smartest decision after so many beers but whatever. I waited for what felt like a few minutes and then I went to check on him, it’s hard to start another game without my partner. I found him sitting on the back doorstep, phone in hand, drenched in rain, staring at the first leaves of fall being thrown in the wind and rain.

“You, okay?”

“He’s gone…”

“Who’s gone?”

    “He’s gone… I can’t believe Sean is…”

    “Holy shit, I’m so sorry man.”

         He didn’t have to say anything more, I got the picture. He muttered something about a “stupid truck,” but I didn’t catch it. It didn’t matter, I knew what I needed to know, and he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. His eyes searched vacantly in front of him, lost beneath the layers of this world. His stare didn’t change all night, and it was the one that bored holes in Sean’s casket as it lay in the abyss. It only changed when the first shovel-full was heaped into the pit and onto one of my best friend’s best friends, and when Sean’s dad clapped him on the back.

         “It’s good to see you, son. Let me know if you need anything.”

         That was the last straw, and after he left tears started to stream from Charlie's eyes. After the hole was filled and most people had left, Charlie walked towards the friend he grew up with, drank with for the first time, smoked with for the first time, and walked through the life of a grown-up with the confidence and curiosity of a child. I can’t imagine what must’ve been going through his head in those steps. I stayed back to give him some space, but I ended up hearing the whole thing anyway.

         “Damnit, Sean,” his eyes never left the newly tossed dirt, “I’m so sorry. Why’d you have to die? I’ve missed you so much and I barely noticed until I got that damned call. Why’d I have to leave? Why’d you have to stay? We could have gone away together, went to college, and lived the life we always wanted. But we didn’t, you stayed behind and found the straight and narrow again, and I left and chased that life. Where has that led me? Here? To the funeral of my best friend that I haven’t spoken to in years? To the women? The alcohol? What the hell does any of it mean? I just feel so alone. I’ve always felt the emptiness, but it didn’t ache until your dad called. I miss you so much, man. We had one hell of a time together, didn’t we? We did, I know it. Why does it just feel hollow now? Was your dad right? Were we just scared kids running from the demons in our shadows? Did getting clean mean that you stopped running? Did going away and living the life mean that I kept running and haven’t stopped?”

         Charlie clenched his fist and sank his knees into the ground. “Goddammit! I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore, I mean if he was real why would I still feel those bruises? How could he let my dad… How?” Charlie took a second, and slowed his breathing, gaining his composure. “Never-the-less, I hope your dad was telling the truth. I hope he had the right of it. I’m thankful you finally got to live… no matter how briefly. I’m sorry I left, I should have been there, but I was terrified. I see that now. I was horrified that my best friend could fall into a system we had both denounced. I was scared I’d fall into it too. Honestly, I’m still scared. But I’m tired of being scared. I’m tired of running. Please, help me stop?”

         After a few moments of sobbing, Charlie’s hands in the dirt, he stood up and made his way back towards me. His eyes were red, and tear streaks littered his cheeks. Dirt stained his knees and hands. He didn’t say a word, just walked past me and entered the passenger-side door. I followed suit and hopped in the driver's seat. His eyes were closed, and he was trying to control his breathing.

         “Thank you for helping me out this weekend, it means a lot to me.”

         “No problem, man, I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

         “Thank you. Anywhere you want to go now that there are no plans?”

         “I don’t know. You’ve had a rough day, want to go get some drinks?”

         “Sure,” he lightly scoffed as a sarcastic grin spread across his face, “We have all the time in the world.”