Stone Can Crack

Sleep was something Juan Tomas Jr. hadn’t enjoyed in years. Something he would now fall into as a last resort, after pills and alcohol and hours scrolling the internet hypnotized his brain into believing it could rest. But the moment his body fell back, and his eyes closed, his past would flood in to haunt him.

Juan once did enjoy sleep, so much that he often overslept, then skipping breakfast, would bound up from his basement apartment to catch a ride before his father’s truck left for the jobsite without him. That was more than ten years ago, when his girlfriend, Maura, intermittently slept by his side.

This morning Juan woke alone to the glaring ceiling lights and four gray plaster walls of his small, rented room. A spider scuttled over the tattered musty bedcover. Outside the window, the moon silhouetted trees against smoky blue darkness. Juan had dreamt again of the accident. Did he even deserve to sleep? If only he could go back.

Ten years ago.

A flash of lightning in his eyes, a swerve to the left, a crash so loud and shocking it reverberated inside him, from his head through his spine to his limbs.

To this day he could still hear its echo and feel its acidic burn.

Handcuffed, jailed, a guilty plea. His mother crying, his father, disillusioned beyond repair, absent from court, as was the victim’s family. Then ten years of incarcerated hell. Bitter cold, stifling heat, hunger, assaults. Which Juan had almost welcomed, the physical pain displacing his torturous guilt. Numb to whether he lived or died. Praying for Paul’s family his daily work.

He logged on to his screen to see if there was anything new in Maura’s life. Most of her stuff was private but he had seen she was married now with two cute kids. For some, a lot could happen in ten years. Good for her. She had always wanted to get married and start a family, but Juan had put her off, not near ready himself, causing contention between them. He genuinely hoped she was happy. Nothing new to see there.

Now Juan checked for a response to his message to Mrs. Sawyer, Paul’s mother, not that there would be. In fact, he would not be surprised if she’d blocked him, like vaccinating against a deadly virus. Yet, there was a message. But not from Mrs. Sawyer, from her daughter, Gabriella, Paul’s little sister. Juan remembered her as a quiet girl. But hadn’t he heard that Gabriella had also died a tragic death? The news had intensified the scorch of Juan’s guilt for the loss he had caused Paul’s family. Where had he heard it? Someone from home he met up with in prison? Or had he only dreamt it? Probably. Thank God, he thought, it wasn’t true; Gabriella had just privately messaged him. There it was on Facebook, clear as day.

“Juan, I forgive you. My brother loved you and would not have blamed you. You’ve paid your debt to society. I believe you when you say you would go back and change your actions if you could. If you truly want to, there is a way.”

As Juan read, his eyes filled with water he’d dammed up for a decade. It began to flow over his hewn cheekbones, down the sides of his square jaw, dampening his crumpled t-shirt. He had hoped and prayed for the day he would receive these words. In court Juan had choked up, swallowed his statement while trying to express his remorse. He hadn't contacted the Sawyer family from prison, but now Paul’s sister had heard his heart speak. Rereading her message, he wondered what she meant, If you truly want to, there is a way. The past could not be altered, he knew too well.

He wrote back.

“Thank you, Gabriella. Your message is a blessing, a comfort I’ve longed for but don’t deserve. If there is anything I can do to make amends to you and your family, please tell me what it is.”

Her response came quickly.

“Meet me at the old oak on Furrows at dawn.”

The old oak on Furrows. Those words conjured an image that chilled Juan’s blood. The ancient, gnarled beast that had not only claimed Paul’s life, but had destroyed Juan’s, and others’ who had lost their way along the unlit winding road.

By the time Juan arrived on his bicycle his body was heated and shaky, not just from the arduous ride, but from searing pain, born of memory, shame and regret. As he approached the sight he’d been dreading, the deadly tree, he saw Gabriella emerge from behind its craggy massive girth. The girl he remembered had grown so lovely, more beautiful than any creature he’d ever seen.

“I didn’t know if you would come,” she said. Her gold hair and translucent skin shone in the silvery dawn. Juan saw his beloved friend Paul in her tall, graceful build, fair color, wide eyes.

“I said I would, and that I would do anything to change the past. I meant what I said. I only wish I had the power,” Juan said, looking into Gabriella’s luminous grey gaze.

“But you do.”

“Gabriella,” Juan said, his voice breaking. “I’m so grateful for your forgiveness. What I did to your family was unforgivable. Paul was special, loved by so many. He deserved a bright future. But my wretched mistakes etched his unjust fate in stone.”

As Juan began to sob, Gabriella embraced him, wrapping him with her light fringed shawl that fluttered like wings in the wind. A delicate rose-petaled fragrance intoxicated his nostrils. Like a swaddled infant in its mother’s arms, Juan felt almost consoled. He wished he could remain this way always.

“It is alright,” she whispered, releasing him. “Stone can crack. You can be forgiven by all.”

“Even by Ellen? And her son? I remember how Paul was so excited when he told me Ellen was pregnant, that he would be a father. That night was supposed to be a celebration.” Juan covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “And your parents, how can they forgive me? Having to watch their grandson grow up without his father? I don’t blame them a bit if they don’t.”

“They will. When you change what you’ve done.”

“But that isn’t possible.”

“Yes, it is, I promise you. I’ve stood where you stand.”

“Where I stand?”

“Paulie, my sweet nephew, he’d been in my care...” Gabriella said, staring through the old oak, as if she’d forgotten it and Juan’s presence. “So small and helpless...that day he fell in the pool...I was responsible...and after losing Paul, they just couldn’t bear it ...” Like Juan, she shook off the memories. “Those were terrible years. But then I chose to go back and...” She looked again at Juan. “Now Paulie is a healthy nine-year-old boy. And I am here, with you, at peace.”

What was she saying?

Her face became serene and knowing, her next words fixtures.

“You can go back. Achieve serenity. But it will require sacrifice.”

“Anything, just tell me what I can do.”

“A life for a life. You must be willing to give up your life, and to trust me. If you are willing, then together we have the power.”

Juan did not understand, but still, he considered this enchanting being's offer. What if it were true, possible, for him to exchange places with Paul that night? He had told himself a hundred times he would have. Had his vows been null and void, the way his life seemed to be? Paul had had much more to live for than Juan. A future sports career, a child on the way, a whole town rooting for him. What had Juan had? An on again off again good time romance with Maura, which he had taken for granted, and a job roofing houses for his dad. And of course, a loving mother. Her, he could not dismiss. Her love, her letters, had gotten him through the worst times. But what had he brought her except heartache?

“Well?” Gabriella asked gently. “It is your decision. You have done your time. You have the right to move on. The choice isn’t easy, I know. Search your soul to find the answer. But if you choose to trust me, to return, to reconcile the past, know it will be your life that ends.”

“Ten years ago, I would have had the answer in an instant.”

“Yes, but the time wasn’t right, that isn’t how it works. It is easy to choose death while suffering in the heat of the moment, but this choice must be made as a sacrifice and come from a place of healing and trust.”

All those years in prison, wishing it had been him instead. But now Juan was finally free, with a chance to start over. Yet how was that fair and how free would he ever be? In the three months he’d been out, he felt lost and tormented. Alone. Forsaken by his shamed father, his mother caught in the middle. If he could free them all, could give Paul back to his family, to his son...

“I do trust you, and I am willing to make the sacrifice.”

With Juan’s words, Gabriella smiled an enlightening smile that haloed the entire field they stood in with an unearthly glow. Juan smelled a storm in the air, heard a loud rush ring in his ears, felt currents tingling his skin.

“That is what I needed to hear,” she said, spreading her flowing shawl out to her sides as wind and leaves and dust and rain suddenly whipped into a frothy, encompassing broth. “Now I’ve done my part. The rest is up to you.” Then she was gone.

Juan was behind the wheel of the old gray Camry that he bought in his senior year of high school. He was driving too fast on the dark road, in a rainstorm, after drinking too many beers, while Paul dozed in the seat beside him. Lightning struck the road ahead. Startled, blinded, Juan braked, sending the car skidding, speeding across the oncoming lane. It careened into the vacant field, barren, outside of the old oak standing in command. The Camry had its sights on the oak, was heading straight for it. Juan quickly sobered, jerked the wheel to the right. The vehicle swerved, nearly but not completely missing the wide, towering tree. The driver side of the car’s front end instantly folded into layers of steel, compressing the dashboard into the steering wheel, pinning it tight to Juan’s chest, as electricity split the oak, cracking its branches, its trunk, into sizzling, disintegrating splinters. As Paul fled the car, crying out Juan’s name, Juan took his last breath, then fell into a long-awaited, tranquil sleep.

It seemed like the entire town attended Juan’s funeral, including Juan’s girlfriend, Maura, Paul and Ellen, and the rest of Paul's family. They all wept with Mr. and Mrs. Tomas, grieving the loss of Juan's young life.

“Mr. Tomas,” Paul said, approaching Juan’s father at the cemetery, “I am so sorry. Juan was my best friend, was going to be the godfather of my baby.”

“He loved you. He was a good son, a hard worker, but he...” Mr. Tomas struggled to say more but broke into soft sobs.

“I don’t want to upset you, but I need to apologize to you, if you’ll hear me.”

“Paul, what do you have to apologize for? It was an accident, a terrible accident. And I know my son shouldn’t have been driving that night.”

“Yes, we should not have been on the road in that storm, and neither of us were in any shape to drive, especially me. But,” Paul hesitated, his voice quaking, “Juan did not want to drive home that night. He said we should sleep it off in the car, wait a few hours for the storm to pass. It was me who insisted; I had a workout scheduled with my trainer early the next morning. A damn workout! I gave him a hard time until he agreed to drive.”

Mr. Tomas said nothing, his face troubled, considering Paul’s confession. Then he looked into Paul’s pained eyes and took a deep breath, as if making a momentous decision. “Paul, don’t blame yourself. Juan made his choice. It is one we all must live with. There is nothing to do now except move ahead.”

“It’s hard. Juan saved my life. If he hadn’t responded quickly the way he did, driving towards that tree, we may have both died. I’m so sorry.” Paul hung his head.

Mr. Tomas patted Paul's arm.

“Paul, I take comfort knowing my son is at peace with the Lord and is watching over us. He was a believer. Julia, his mother, raised him that way. I wish you peace as well.”

“Thank you. I’ll always be grateful for Juan’s friendship. I hope you’ll allow me to be a part of your life, to consider you family, you and Mrs. Tomas.”

From that day, Paul did not let a week pass without checking in with Julia and Juan Tomas. When he stopped by their home, their faces lit up, knowing he brought stories of their son.

He told them of the time he and Juan were caught picking apples from Mr. Sullivan’s trees, how grouchy Mr. Sullivan had tried to pelt them with dropped fruit as they laughed and bolted. He shared how Juan became Gabriella’s crush when she was ten and Juan gave her an abandoned kitten he’d found. And he admitted that wherever Juan and Paul went, the girls always gave Juan the eye first, even Ellen, the day he and Juan met her at the park.

“But I told Juan, “Don’t even think about it, she’s mine,” Paul laughed.

“Oh, Paul,” Mrs. Tomas smiled, pouring Paul coffee, “I know my Juan was handsome, but you and Ellen were meant to be.”

“That is true,” he said, “but I wasn’t taking any chances!”

Paul’s stories brought laughs and cries, always warming the Tomas’s hearts.

Eight months after Juan passed, Paul and Ellen’s son, Paul Tomas Sawyer, Paulie, came into the world, to the joy of the Sawyer family, and to the thrill of his godparents, Julia and Juan Tomas.