THE SUN IS STILL WELL BELOW THE HORIZON. Snow is falling as Matthew O’Connor stares at the recently turned soil that surrounds the headstone that bears the name of his mother.
Louise O’Connor
March 3, 1937 - January 18, 2008
Beloved Wife and Mother
We miss you more than we could have ever known
Matthew turns his gaze across the darkened expanse of Sharon Memorial Cemetery. While the headlights of a few lonely cars making their way on Randolph Road towards Uptown Charlotte pierce the dark of the early morning, his surroundings are relatively undisturbed.
I know how much you loved the snow...and it’s snowing like crazy out here right now. It’s so cold. I hope you aren’t cold...wherever you are. I’m sorry...I miss you so much. Dad was the one who was supposed to go so quickly. What happened? You were supposed to be here. Damn it.
Matthew places his lips to his fingers and then presses them against the marker.
I miss you.
He turns and heads back toward his car, the snow-covered grass crunching beneath his feet.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now without you,” he announces to the cold early morning air. “I thought we were going to have all this time together...I thought Dad was the one who would be gone by now. Not that I wanted either of you to be gone...but he was always the stronger one...and you...well...I thought I was going to take care of you after Dad. Tell me how I’m going to look after Dad now?”
Matthew climbs into the driver’s seat of the old Mercedes-Benz his mother had driven for the past 20 years. The snow is collecting on the windshield rapidly, so he flicks on the wipers as he turns the key in the ignition. He reaches for the switch to turn on the headlights as he pushes on the gas pedal.
He shifts the gear into forward and reaches for the on button to turn on the radio. An old Patsy Cline tune that his mother always loved crackles through the weathered speakers.
Crazy...crazy for feeling so lonely...I’m crazy...crazy for feeling so blue. I knew... You’d love me as long as you wanted. And then someday...you’d leave me for...
He quickly turns the control switch to the off setting.
This was not how things were going to be.
Matthew drives the few blocks to his family’s Cotswold home, passing a few 18-wheelers on their early morning runs to Harris- Teeter. He’s only been gone for just under an hour, so he suspects his father will still be asleep. He cuts the headlights and engine, rolling softly in to the carport. It reminds him of his teenage years, when his parents would let him borrow the family car for an evening out. When he arrived past the designated time, he would always turn off the car lights and shut off the engine, shifting the car into neutral so he could coast down the drive quietly, in an effort to attract no undue attention. If he was lucky, Mom and Dad were already asleep and unaware that he had missed his curfew. This time, like so many others before, his father was waiting up for him.
Matthew slips the key into the door lock just off the carport quietly, turning the knob ever so delicately so as not to make any noise. His father is sitting on the sofa in the den by the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket.
“Where have you been?” he asks.
“I was hungry,” Matthew replies. “And I couldn’t sleep.”
“”There’s food here. So you went off driving in the middle of the night?”
“Dad...I wanted something right away...I didn’t feel like cooking.”
“You went to see your mom, too, right?”
“Well...I guess...yes...you’re right. I did drive by there. I miss her. I wanted to talk to her.”
“I miss her, too, Matthew. I always thought I’d be the first to go. I wasn’t expecting things to turn out this way. They just did...and I feel rotten. For her...and for you.”
Matthew pulls off his coat and tosses it on the chair by the sofa.
“It’s okay Dad,” he says. “You know I miss her like crazy. But we’ve still got each other...and I’ll always be here for you. Don’t ever feel that way.”
SAUL SITS PATIENTLY IN THE COLD NIGHT AIR, WAITING FOR CLARICE. The snow is falling heavily, but it doesn’t seem to be sticking anywhere except for the bus stop bench he’s sitting on. He scoops up a handful of the white crystalline stuff, crunches it tight in a ball and tosses it up into the air, watching it fall to the pavement and dissipate in to a pile of snowy powder.
Where are you Clarice? It’s been an hour.
Saul scrambles to his feet and heads toward Uptown. Just as he passes Bland Street he peers two round, faint headlights in the next block. He recognizes Marshall’s old royal blue Mercury Comet convertible trundling down Tryon Street with Clarice behind the wheel.
She waves at him, signaling that she’s going to turn around and pick him up on the left curb. The car sputters to a stop a few feet away as she cranks down the window.
“Saul,” Clarice calls out. “Come on, get in.”
“Clarice!” Saul shouts back. “Thank God! It’s so good to see you. Thanks for coming to get me.”
Saul climbs in to the old convertible, dusting the falling snow from his thin sport jacket.
“You’re going to freeze to death in that outfit,” Clarice jokes.
“I wasn’t expecting snow,” says Saul. “It was still warm when I went exploring.”
Saul looks deeply in to Clarice’s eyes, placing his hands behind her neck, pulling her in closer and locking her lips in a warm embrace. They kiss longingly for a moment before Clarice pushes him away.
“What the fuck happened to you?” she asks, an audible note of anger rising in her voice.
“You kicked me to the curb,” he says matter-of-factly. “I was angry and depressed, so I decided to go exploring the St. Peter’s Tunnel on my own.”
Clarice looks at Saul in disbelief.
“How the hell did you end up down here?” “Baby...I’m not really sure. I went in to the tunnel...and it collapsed behind me. I managed to find my way in to part of this old mine. It felt like it must have gone on for miles...eventually I met this guy who lives down there and he helped me find my way out. Somehow, I ended up here.”
“I was crazy fuckin’ worried about you. When your call dropped out I didn’t know where the hell you were. Then Marshall and I went to your place and saw that the tunnel had caved in. We were about to call the police when you finally called back again.”
“Thank God you came,” Saul says as he presses his lips against Clarice’s again. Clarice turns away abruptly.
“What is it baby?”
“Who was this man that helped you get out, Saul?”
“I’m not- not- sure,” he says haltingly. “An older guy. He said his name was Abraham Owens...but there was something kinda weird about him. It wasn’t just him that was old. His clothes seemed really old, too. Like...way outdated...he was dressed like he was from...I don’t know...from a long time ago.”
“Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
“No. He didn’t hurt me. He was just...kind of secretive about the whole mine thing. He said he didn’t want anybody to find him, so he made me wear a blindfold on the way out. It was...very strange.”
Clarice grasps Saul’s hands and pulls them tightly to her lips, kissing them softly. “You fucked up,” she says defiantly. “But I’m willing to forgive and forget and move forward. We on the same page?”
“Yeah…forever and always.”
~ David Moore
* A mixture of fact and fiction, Elmwood Park is a serial exclusive to Uptown.
To catch up on previous editions, go to the archives section of this website.
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