Absolution Tuesday

           I walked along the busy sidewalk, my fingers tensing around the small object in my right pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice. Being right-handed, that was the safest place to keep it.  Hidden deep in my jacket pocket, my ungloved fingers traced along its rounded tip and along its smooth sides. It was a reassuring weight in my hand. Its cool smoothness had a calming effect. 

It had been raining for three days, but the skies had finally cleared up. The sun shone on my face like a spotlight as I was jostled along the sidewalk. It was like everyone knew the decision I had made and were judging me for it. I lifted my face, trying to absorb the sun’s warmth but I remained cold.  I pulled my knitted scarf tightly around my neck partially obscuring my face.

           I matched my steps to those around me, so as not to draw any more attention to myself.  Normally, I didn’t walk this fast, but blending in was better. My kitten heels hurt my feet at this speed, but I didn’t wince. I wondered how many blisters I would have after I made it to work. 

           A man in a red bow tie bumped into me unceremoniously at the crosswalk and muttered an insincere “Excuse me.” I stumbled but managed to keep my footing, although my left foot splashed into a water puddle.  

           I walked into the law firm at exactly 8 a.m., with my damp left foot.  

           “Early today?” the receptionist said, laughing.

           “What do you mean?” I peeled off my coat and scarf.

           “You’re always ten minutes late.” She handed me my messages as the telephone rang. “Hargadon, Hiller, and Bennett.”

           ‘Damn.’ I thought. I merely shrugged and walked to my office, giving her a fake smile. I double-checked my pocket.

           Last night when I bought it, the clerk asked, “Just one?” His eyebrows were knitted.

           “Yes. Just one. Is that possible?” I smiled, hoping he would help a clearly inexperienced purchaser.

           “No. We don’t sell them individually. You’ll have to purchase a whole box.”

           “Ok. Whatever I need to do. I just need one.”

           He turned to retrieve the box.  “That will be $26.49.”

           I pulled out my wallet to retrieve the required cash. He rang up my purchase, giving me back my change. 

           “I’ve never had anyone ask for just one.” He bagged my purchase and handed it to me. “What’s it for?” He looked me straight in the eye.

           “It’s not what it may sound like. It’s a gift for someone.”

I kept it on my desk beside my keys all day, at all times easily within reach. I kept stealing glances at it throughout the morning while working on paperwork, to make sure it was still there. Its metal surface was shiny, reflective.  Several times, I twisted it between my forefinger and thumb, watching the office lights dance across its surface. 

           In the afternoon, I went to family court for a custody hearing.  At the metal detector, I had to take it out of my pocket momentarily. The security officer glared at me over his glasses when he saw it among my pocket belongings. He wouldn’t let me take in into the courtroom, so I had to leave it outside at the security desk. I felt lighter without it in my pocket.

           My red Camry purred as I drove down the interstate that evening. I loved my car It wasn’t fancy, but it was pretty. I turned on the radio, and tried to find a station to listen to. I tried country, pop, rock, and talk radio. They all annoyed me. I pressed the “off’ button a little too hard.  The silence gave me time to think.

           “What am I doing? Am I really going to do this?” I said aloud, not expecting a response from the empty car. My hand automatically touched my pocket and felt it there, solid and real.  “Yes. Yes, I have to. I really don’t have a choice.”

           I reached my first stop just outside of town, slipping my car into an empty spot. I got out of the car carrying a bouquet of daisies.  I walked straight to my mother’s grave.  As always, I paused to read the familiar name and dates of birth and death. I kneeled and arranged the daisies in the granite vase.

           “Mom,” I put my hand back in my pocket and rubbed the smoothness.   “I am going to visit him today. I have made a decision and I need to let him know. I wanted to let you know first.  I hope you understand. It’s just something that I have to do.”

I wiped my tear-stained cheeks. “I love you, Mom. Always.”

           At my final stop, I left my car and walked towards the entrance. I walked through the wrought iron gates flanked by two cherubim statuary. I walked around a little until I found the him. I looked directly at him and said, “I need you to listen to me.” 

When he didn’t respond, I continued. “I’ve waited for thirty–six years to be able to do this. You took my mom away from me.  You took the only parent I had. You had no right to do that. You left me alone.”

He still said nothing.

“I realized that, while you acted intentionally, you probably didn’t understand what the fallout would be. You acted rashly without thought.  You didn’t realize what your actions would do to me and my family or you and yours.  Your life was destroyed too.” 

I took a deep breath. “There is no excuse for what you have done. But it’s time I move on. I can’t live in the past any longer. I forgive you.”

           No headstone marked the spot, only a white placard with his name and dates of birth and death. The soil had clearly been recently disturbed. I sat the bullet from my pocket on the ground beside the placard and left.