There Was Electricity in the Air

The room emitted a quiet patience which rubbed off on William as he waited for the arrival of other guests. Despite the gravity of the occasion, the space seemed to hum with a calm anticipation.

Warm amber light began to splash across high walls, filtering through windows positioned near the ceiling. He gazed up at the closest window and saw the morning sky unfurl in soft shades of blue, tinged with pink and orange.

To have the ceremony take place on such a stellar morning was something he was grateful for. It was an added blessing that nothing else could be seen through the windows that might pull his mind away from this gratitude.

William turned his attention to the elderly couple at the back row, cursing himself for not being certain of who they were. They sat like statues, leaning into each other with sweet dependence, more immersed in their own love than the purpose of attendance today. 

It had to be her grandparents…SURELY?

Once he noticed, it was difficult to take his mind off the fact that Mary’s presumed grandparents weren't looking his way. He was confident that they, like most of Mary's family, had always disliked him. 

The priest, who was currently nowhere to be seen, had pulled William aside earlier this morning, understanding his anxieties on the matter.

He was an elderly gentleman, clearly a veteran of the church, who spoke with an assurance that reinforced his experience “William, you must remember that in that room today, the emotions of others are irrelevant.”  

“You just wait and see their attitudes, they hate me, father!” William had protested.

The priest was unwavering as he absorbed these words, momentarily leaving William to wonder if the man was deaf. 

After giving William enough time to hear his own complaint fall flat, the priest responded “What you have come here for today, washes away all hate. God's grace will cleanse you of it. Now you embark on your next chapter, a journey that can only contain love and understanding, there is no space for the opinions of others.”

Thirty plus years of casual atheism meant nothing to him today, those words of reassurance were his only shield now. 

William turned his attention inwards. Last night's clean shave had left him victim to the brisk morning air. He had always found sanctuary behind his hair, a place to hide from months of harsh cold…and years of harsher criticism. 

Now he was exposed. Worse still, exposed on a day where all eyes would be fixated on him. At least Mary would be happy at this; His thick, unruly hair had routinely irked her. 

After enough complaints about his scruffy appearance, William had realized, even if all too late, that Mary was more frustrated by the fact he wouldn't tidy himself up for her, than the untidiness itself.

An approaching racket grabbed William’s attention…other guests at last. His chest constricted as the earlier calmness abandoned him, vulnerability taking its place. Oh how he hated not being in control. 

To make matters worse, this cheap cotton suit was laying far too heavily on his goose bump covered skin. What was a light irritation at first began to smother both his body and his reasoning. He braced himself for more of Mary's loved ones, armed with their acidic glares.

Before this sea of worries swept him away, a lighthouse flashed out at his consciousness, signaling one thought based entirely on reality: 

This day isn't about me at all…it's her day. Mary's day.

It actually worked! If only for a fleeting moment. Expectations began to evaporate, the room exhaled, hell… he even felt a timid smile creep onto his face.

That’s when the twisting of a small rusty latch could be heard, and before there was time to process it, louder screams of tired metal and aged wood announced themselves.

The noise from the beaten old doors burst across the room, snatching away the silence and Williams' last moment of refuge with it.

A pair of women breezed through before the doors had fully opened, they were intentional with each step. William recognized one to be Mary’s close friend.

Elanor? Edna? E something… ah, what does it matter? She no doubt hates me too.

The other rang absolutely no bells of resemblance. She walked a pace behind her friend, and was clearly battling harder to hold her anger down. He watched as E something and her companion took their seats two rows ahead of Mary's grandparents.

Behind the pair's confidence, seeds of turbulent emotion could be seen, but William had no doubts they would sit calmly and leave the seeds dry.

They took their seats without saying a word. He saw in their eyes a pounding reminder from his childhood, the looks were that of empty rejection. 

A cluster of other guests entered, the room was filling up fast. Amongst this wave of unimportant faces, Mary’s parents approached. The duo were dressed with sharp formality.

Private conversations across the room were stamped out by their silent presence, there was no need for words nor gestures. 

They passed the fourth row, the third. Without realizing, William had shuffled to sit rigidly upright. Her parents had always had this effect on him. Now they reached the second row of pews. Williams' eyes snapped wide with panic. 

Are they coming right at me?!

Finally at the first row, they stopped. Her mother looked distant, eyes heavy with defeat. She had been a huge factor in Mary’s past attempts at separation. 

On several occasions last year, he had watched Mary and her mother have intense conversations at a nearby cafe. William never risked getting close enough to hear what was being said, he didn't need to. Their topic was obvious.

“Just off to Pilates Will.”  Yea, right!  

What an expert he had become at reconnaissance; If not for that expertise, he was destined for the absolute failure and humiliation of Mary leaving him, the relationship torn from his grasp. 

The room appeared different now. How long had he indulged in those memories? All faces were attentive to him. William scanned the pews, still smirking from his day dreaming.

His stare collided with Mary’s father, whose eyes carried such complete hate, the rest of the room and its guests dissolved away. Williams' smirk had vaporized and he knew his mouth would never render another. He could only hide by looking straight down.

A burning sensation along his wrists asked for attention, indicating efforts made to pull free for some time. How long had this pain been there?

A voice speaking solemnly behind him suggested that the priest had arrived from the rear door. Final preparations were being made. 

William took two deep breaths, but before he could manage to raise his head again, an immediate darkness engulfed him. He coughed from the loose dust stirred up by the cloth bag.

Silent seconds passed that could be confused for minutes, depending on how deep in thought he had plummeted. 

The silence was broken by the bellowing voice of Mary’s father. “Do you even regret it?! YOU DEVIL SPAWN.”

A dampness formed atop the bag. William shuddered as the first drops of water seeped through the cloth and down his naked head.

“I do.”