Make Me a Channel of Your Peace - 1. Story

Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace

by Nephylim

“To some death comes as an Angel of Mercy, to release them from suffering, to ease them into the last long sleep. Often, after illness it is said that death comes as ‘a blessing’. But, in the end death always comes as a thief in the night; unexpected, unwanted, unwelcomed.”

The minister looked out over the sea of faces. The Chapel of Rest was full to bursting and, raising his eyes further he could see that out in the courtyard there were more huddled figures, despite the fine rain that had been falling all morning, the kind of rain that settles in a soft mist and seeps through to your very soul. This man must have been popular. He hadn’t known him, not at all. There had been a time when he had known them all, at least by reputation if not personally, but the town had grown out of the village and now... He sighed before pressing on.

“We gather together as Christian people in the sure and certain knowledge that, to us death is not an ending but a resting place along the way.”

Something outside in the enclosed courtyard caught his eye. In the middle of all the huddled figures, wrapped in their winter coats, dark as crows there was... there was... someone. It was as though the crowd huddled deliberately around the edges of the courtyard, giving this one person a wide berth, as though they were sending a message, shutting him out. He stood, candle straight, eyes and chin lifted almost in challenge. For a moment the words failed him as he caught a look of... of...

“David, ‘Dai’ Davies was a strong and silent man. He was protective of his family, a real family man.” Again he faltered as something about that figure caught and held his attention, making him feel somehow uncomfortable. He was too far away for him to be able to see anything other than that it was a man, a tall man in dark trousers and white shirt... nothing unusual there at a funeral. But this man was unusual. He was unusual in that he had long dark hair, flowing loose around his shoulders, misted by the rain. He was unusual in the look on his face, which was not sorrowing but angry. He was unusual because of the way he seemed to wrap silence around himself, pushing everyone else away.

“David was a loving father to his children Emma, Jonathan and Kate, an attentive husband to his wife Lorna who sadly went before him leaving him to raise the children alone. He was a pillar of the community, always there with a helping hand for any who had need of it. He was a big man, a giant of a man but a gentle giant, a kind and loving man.” Why are some of the congregation shifting in their seats? Did he catch the odd uncomfortable look? This was strange.

“Although he was not regularly amongst the congregation at the chapel he was a chapel man at heart. His father was a minister and he was brought up in the ways of the chapel. As a boy...” He droned on, letting the words flow from his lips, words he had spoken in the same or similar form at services such as this for more than thirty years.

This time there was something different, and it had something to do with that figure in the garden. He didn’t even have a coat. Alright, it was early September and it wasn't that cold, but there was a biting wind and that rain was chilling. He was standing so straight, so still. It was unnerving, spooky even.

He let his eyes fall to the congregation. At the back the faces were as they always were, solemn, sad, some dabbing their eyes, all attentive, all focussed. But at the front the faces looked... different, almost as though they were embarrassed as well as sorrowing.

“Let us stand and sing hymn no 3 in your hymn books...

The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want;
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; He leadeth me
The quiet waters by.

My soul He doth restore again,
And me to walk doth make
Within the paths of righteousness,
E’en for His own name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk in death’s dark vale,
Yet will I fear no ill;
For Thou art with me, and Thy rod
And staff my comfort still.

My table Thou hast furnished me
In presence of my foes;
My head Thou dost with oil anoint,
And my cup overflows.

Goodness and mercy all my life
Shall surely follow me;
And in God’s house forevermore,
My dwelling place shall be.

The minister enjoyed singing and usually it gave him a lot of pleasure to let go and hear the voices, mostly timorous to be sure but occasionally, given the setting in the sleepy Welsh Valley, there would be a swell as members of this choir or that would take up the harmony and the room would pulse with the music. That did not happen today, although there were some fine tenors out there, but something equally extraordinary did.

Almost as soon as the organ laid down the first note, a voice picked it up. It was a male voice but sweet and pure, polished in its presentation, absolutely true in pitch and tone. He almost faltered himself and he noticed that some of the close family, at the very front, froze at the sound of it. No one looked around. No one turned their heads or even glanced at each other, but they all heard and it hit something in them because they closed down, drew slightly closer together, ignored the voice, ignored whatever it was that it evoked for them... or at least tried to.

It was not so easy, with all the people, the strong voices, the melodious tunefulness to pick out one person, to identify to whom the voice belonged but he didn’t have to because he knew.

***

They hadn’t believed he would actually go through with it. It had only been by chance he found out at all. There was no way any of those bastards would have told him. The last thing they wanted was to have him there, a reminder that their perfect little family was not so perfect after all.

He wouldn’t let anyone go with him, although they had all offered, some had begged. They’d gone anyway, of course, at least Adin and Sarah had, a deputation if you please. They lurked in the crowd, huddling in dark shapeless coats, hiding.

The scent of flowers was overpowering. There were so many. For some reason they hadn’t expected there to be so many. Wreathes lined the path leading into the courtyard outside the small Chapel of Rest. People spilled onto the road outside and they had to squeeze through steaming, damp bodies to get in. Lucky they were both small.

Keeping to the edges they worked their way around to the back of the courtyard, where they could see... everything. They could see through the door into the chapel. They could see the coffin, surmounted by a huge teardrop shaped wreath of white flowers. They could see the heads of the people... down at the front that would be ‘them’... the family. Emma would be made up to the nines in high heels and hiding behind a mask. She would probably have some man or other with her, giving her his arm and his body. Jonathan would be distinctly uncomfortable because he knew... he’d always known... and Katie... well Katie didn’t even believe... she’d never seen.

Their grandmother would be there, like a mother hen... shooing them all before her, clucking around them, broking no argument, allowing no word of disquiet... no room for acknowledging the truth.

They could see all that and, of course they could see Luke.

They really hadn’t expected him to come. He was so stubborn; always so stubborn. He had taken it into his head to go through with this madness and no one had the remotest chance of talking him out of it. That was probably why he had insisted on coming alone. Not that they would ever have allowed that.

He was standing in the middle of the courtyard, oblivious to everyone. Sometimes his eyes fixed on the coffin, and sometimes they rose to the mountain above the chapel. When he did that it seemed to his watching friends that he was frail, although he stood tall and strong, as if he were about to bend like a reed in the wind... bend and break.

Adin ached to go to him, to put his arms around him, to be there for him. Everyone else had someone to hold on to but it would be the worse thing he could do. Luke needed to do this on his own, besides it wouldn't be wise... given the circumstances.

He hated the way that everyone was avoiding Luke. He had as much right to be here as anyone; more than most. It almost broke his heart when they sang... when he sang. Luke was a singer, he'd always been a singer. Even though he wasn’t professional, he could have been. Maybe if none of this had happened... Yeah... maybe. Luke could have done anything he wanted.

Today he was just standing.

After the hymn they said The Lord’s Prayer... well at least they did. Luke didn’t and neither did Adin or Sarah. Luke had given up on religion a long time ago... after it had given up on him.

Frankly, Adin and Sarah were worried about Luke, all of his many friends were. He had been so silent since he found out, so silent and withdrawn. He was never the most gregarious person, but these last few days he was simply not there.

And he was not there now. He was present in body, but it was easy to see that mentally he was far away, and they could guess exactly where he was. It was not a good place.

The service wore on and eventually came to an end. Luke was looking up again. His eyes were over the roof of the chapel, up among the mountains. Following, Adin was surprised to see the shape of a bird circling above. It was too far away to see exactly what it was, but it looked like a crow.

When people began to file out of the chapel, Adin unconsciously moved closer to Luke, no longer caring if he saw them. Jonathan came to the door. Adin saw him stiffen when he saw Luke. For a moment he looked as if he was going to come over, to say something, but Emma was right behind and she pushed him out of the way, refusing even to look in Luke’s direction. Katie followed her lead and the look 'grandma hen' sent over was openly hostile.

The looks and whispered comments continued until both the chapel and the courtyard were empty. Luke remained immobile, staring, absent.

The minister was the last to leave. He stood in the doorway looking at Luke, a strange expression on his face. Someone called him but he ignored them. He walked slowly over to Luke and put a hand on his shoulder. Luke’s eyes snapped to him, but he said nothing, his face impassive.

“Are you okay son? You look... Did you know the deceased?”

Adin couldn't see Luke’s face, but he knew it would be showing his emotions clearly. He had such expressive eyes and they would be registering pain, confusion, sorrow, anger... all of them clear to see. The minister looked a little stunned, and Adin smiled, moving forwards.

***

The minister deliberately hung back at the end of the service. For the life of him he couldn’t have said why although, of course he knew. Curiosity had always been something of a fault, and he was more than curious about this situation.

The man was still in the yard, unmoved, unmoving. Almost everyone else had gone. There were only two people left, and by the looks on their faces, they knew him. Close to, he could see the man was younger than he'd thought, little more than a boy. The minister watched him for a moment. He was rapt, staring over the chapel to the mountains beyond. Emotions were flying across his face, chasing each other through his eyes.

The minister saw the family stall in the doorway, the older woman hustling them away. They knew him too. Who was he? Curioser and curioser. He couldn’t help but to be drawn to this boy, who seemed to wrap himself in a shroud of silence and loss, but there was something... something that told the minister his grief was different to the rest.

He couldn’t stand in the doorway forever, and he took a step forward. The closer he got, the more he could sense the pain. It was overwhelming. The boy was handsome, more than handsome. Some might call him beautiful and there was a sense of familiarity. Ah yes... he had the look of this family about him. A relative then; and not a popular one by the look of it. What had he done, this beautiful boy, to turn his family so badly against him?

The boy's dark blue eyes flickered, and for a moment the minister thought he was going to faint. He put a steadying hand on his shoulder and the boy brought the full force of his gaze onto him. It made him shiver - not only because the eyes were wide and beautiful, a curious shade of dark blue, ringed with black - but also because of the expressions they held, one after another – anger, fear, pain and sorrow and, over it all a deep confusion.

The two people who had remained - lurking, he thought with an inner smile - stepped forward protectively. They were young too, his friends perhaps. One of them, a boy, put his hand comfortingly on his arm and his eyes - which had been locked with the minister’s, filled with something that was almost challenge, almost anger, and, shockingly almost condemnation - widened slightly. The minister could feel it too, the tremors, through his hand. The boy must have been frozen. He was shivering so hard.

“Luke.” Then louder. “Luke.” The girl closed ranks on the other side. The boy – Luke, turned his head stiffly, looking deeply confused.

“I thought I told you not to come.” The voice matched the rest of him. It was soft, musical, beautiful. His was the voice heard during the ceremony.

“You have a very beautiful voice.” The words just slipped out as he thought them, making him feel foolish and embarrassed. Luke looked at him, his eyes blank, and said nothing.

“Come on mate... let’s get you home. You’ve had enough.”

“No. I’m going to the ‘crem’.”

“Luke, you’re crazy. Don’t do this to yourself.” The anguish in his voice was genuine making the minister’s curiosity rise a few notches. Luke shook his head stubbornly.

“And how do you think you are going to get there?”

“Drive.”

“You’re not driving anywhere in that state.”

“Watch me.” He shook himself free of all the hands, and took a step toward the gate, but then he swayed and would have fallen if his friend had not anticipated his move and remained glued to his side. A good friend then.

“Luke, this is madness. You’re going to make yourself ill. Why torture yourself? You’re not thinking they've miraculously changed, will welcome you back with open arms? Not even you are that insane.”

Luke didn’t respond. He tried to take another step, swayed again and sank to his knees, his head bowed, his body wracked with silent sobs. He looked somehow defeated. Instantly both of his friends were kneeling beside him, wrapping him in their arms, ignoring the rain, the puddles, everything but their friend’s distress. The minister felt he should do something, say something, but there was something about the little tableau that was intensely personal.

As he walked past, Luke rested his head on his friend’s shoulder and whispered. “Take me. Please.” The boy nodded and tightened his arms. “You know I will.”

“Minister!!” He looked up in surprised at the sharpness of tone in the voice that hailed him from the gate. It was the older woman, the one he had nicknamed ‘Mother Hen’. She had taken time off from clucking around her brood to glare at him. Her eyes flicked to the little group in the courtyard and back to his. They were hard, glinting steel and her mouth was set in a severe line.

“You’re holding everything up.”

“I have a duty to ALL my congregation, Mrs Davies. If things are held up for a few minutes so that someone in deep pain can be comforted, then so be it.”

She snorted. “Deep pain.” She sneered again, flicking her eyes to where Luke was climbing to his feet supported by his friends. “Don’t be fooled by that one. He has the face of an angel, and the heart of a demon. He’s devil’s spawn. I doubt he would know an honest feeling if it slapped him in the face.”

The minister thought of the emotions that had passed through the expressive blue eyes. He had no doubt at all that each and every one of them was genuine. His curiosity began to get the better of him.

“Who is he?”

“Trouble, Minister, that’s what he is, pure trouble. Now come on, everyone is waiting.”

As he turned away he looked back one more time and met Luke’s eyes. There was raw pain there. Had he heard what she’d said?

***

Adin watched Luke in the driving mirror. He'd wanted to sit in the back with him and let Sarah drive but Luke was in no mood for company. He hadn’t been for days. Adin couldn’t remember the last time he'd seen him smile... it certainly hadn’t been since he heard the news. He hadn’t slept since then either and barely ate, or spoke.

When they first got to know him Luke had carried a shadow in his heart, a darkness that seeped into everything he did. It had hurt him, torn him, eaten away at him from the inside out. It had damn near killed him. It had taken a lot of support from a lot of very good friends to chase that shadow away, not that it had ever completely left him but at least enough to allow him to have a more or less normal life. Now it was back and it was darker than ever. The old look was there in his eyes, the bleakness that spoke of wounds so deep they went right through to the soul. Adin couldn't bear to look into his eyes these days, even though they were so...

“Are you okay bro?”

Luke didn’t answer. Adin doubted he even heard. He was staring out of the window into the rain, which was now falling steadily. He was lost, far away and completely lost. Adin shivered. Last time, he was forced to stand by and watch the best friend he ever had almost completely destroy himself, spiritually, mentally and ultimately physically, and he was not about to do it again.

A light touch on his hand, where it rested on the gear stick, made him jump. Sarah was looking at him, smiling gently. She’d been there. She’d always been there. A wave of love and gratitude, so strong it almost took his breath away, swept over him. Petite and blonde with powder blue eyes Sarah looked like a porcelain doll, but she was much, much stronger than that. Sometimes Adin wondered whether any of them would have made it through the dark times without her strength, and even more than that, her perspective.

“It’ll be alright. He needs to do this. It isn’t a bad thing Adin. It’s hard but it will be healing in the end.”

He looked into the mirror again. Luke had closed his eyes, leaning his head back. Perhaps he was asleep. He looked open and vulnerable, and it made Adin’s heart constrict. Not a bad thing? Perhaps, but not a good thing either.

“I’m scared, Sarah.” He kept his voice low. “The last time he was like this we almost lost him.”

“Yes, we did. But he’s stronger now. It was all very raw then. He had no self esteem. He thought no one cared about him. He didn’t care about anyone, least of all himself. Last time he had nothing to live for... this time he has us.”

“Yeah.” He said it without conviction, logic pulling in one direction and gut wrenching fear in the other. “I still think it was a stupid idea to come here. He’s spent six years trying to recover from the rejection and now he’s putting his neck on the line to be rejected all over again.”

He looked up again, into the mirror. Luke hadn’t moved, he certainly seemed to be asleep now. He was exhausted. He looked it and yet... he was still as close to perfect as anyone Adin had ever seen.

“He’s been going down for a while Sarah. He’s been having those dreams again, screaming in the night. He... he’s switching off and there’s nothing I can do to reach him. From the day he heard about the funeral it’s got worse. It’s as if... as if something inside him that was slowly coming back to life died again that day.”

Sarah squeezed his hand, and he glanced over at her warm smile. “It’ll be alright, Adin. It’s just brought everything up again, that’s all. Now that it’s over, truly over, he can start to heal properly. We’re all here for him, for both of you.”

“I know. I love you, Sarah.”

“I know you do hun. I love you too, with all my heart.”

They lapsed into silence again as the car cut through the rain. They steamed slightly as the heaters warmed them, at least on the outside.

Adin took a different route to the rest of the cortege and they arrived at the crematorium before the hearse. There were a few people, dressed in black suits, hanging about in the car park, who didn’t even spare a glance for the small black car that slid into a space near the entrance.

Luke woke with a start when they stopped, and looked around, seeming to be confused. Sarah turned round and covered his hand with her own.

“You sure you’re up to this hun?” She was shocked how cold his hand was, but kept her concern to herself.

He glanced out of the window and shuddered then, without answering, climbed stiffly out of the car. Sarah and Adin exchanged glances and followed.

The rain had stopped although the sky was still heavy and black. Although it was early afternoon, it was dark and a chill wind bit into them making them shiver. Sarah and Adin pulled their coats tighter around themselves but Luke, despite being in his shirt sleeves did not seem to notice. Numbly he pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes and lit one with a hand that was visibly shaking. He leaned against the car drawing so deeply it made him cough.

Moment later the hearse and following black ‘family’ car drove slowly past the car park and through the gates, pulling up next to the ornate gothic building which housed the crematorium. All of the other cars diverted into the car park which filled rapidly.

Luke stood stiff and immobile while people spilled out, chatting and laughing. Many of them fell silent when they saw the pale figure leaning against the black car. No one approached, no one said anything directly to him but there were many dark looks and unheard mutters directed towards him as they all hurried away.

Unconsciously Adin and Sarah drew closer to him, noticing that although he feigned nonchalance he was visibly paler and the shake in his hand as he brought the cigarette to his lips was growing more and more pronounced.

“Come on. We’re only getting cold standing here.”

It was a very short walk from the car park, across the road to the gates of the crematorium, and from there the road climbed steeply to a small courtyard where the cars were parked. The space was packed with bodies which miraculously and apparently accidentally parted as they arrived at the edge of the crowd giving a clear view of the coffin being slid out of the hearse onto a metal trolley. The crowd closed again as they began to follow the trolley into the building.

Luke had frozen the moment he saw the coffin and he made no move towards the building. There was a closed look on his face as though he was a long way away, and again it was not a good place to be.

“Come on. If you really have to do this - and did I mention that I think you’re insane - but if you really want to let’s get it done and then get the hell out of here.”

Taking point at his elbow, with Sarah on the other side, equally purposeful, Adin steered Luke through the crowds and into the large, modern chapel. The coffin was already in place on the podium before the curtains. The minister was standing at the lectern and he had a special smile for the three young people as Adin elbowed his way into the last pew, right at the back.

Jonathan looked over his shoulder with an unreadable expression on his face. Adin had no idea if Luke saw, because almost immediately Mother Hen nudged his arm and made him turn around. The back of his head spoke volumes, as did those of his sisters, only the content of the books were very different.

Luke was shaking again, his eyes fixed on the coffin and Adin wondered for the umpteenth time what on earth had possessed Luke to come, and what he could possibly do to pick up the pieces afterwards. He glanced at Sarah who met his eyes, her own showing the same concern he felt. They both shifted slightly closer to Luke who was oblivious, but by the time the last notes of the organ died they were both convinced that it was only the closeness of their bodies that was keeping him upright.

***

“David ‘Dai’ Davies was many things to many people. A good and loving father to his children, a dutiful son, a diligent workmate and a good friend. It is heartening to see so many of his family and friends here today to acknowledge his life and to celebrate it.

“As Christians we know that this is not the end, that as Jesus died for our sins and rose again so, too will our dearly departed one day walk the paths of glory with his nearest and dearest at his side. This is not the end.

“David lived his life surrounded by the love of his family and friends. But there is a limit to how far that love can go and we have now reached that limit. There is no more. Now we must take that love and wrap ourselves in it, remembering the good times for in our memories our loved ones live on and are never truly apart from us.”

The minister noticed that the words he was speaking, which he had spoken so often to so many people, bringing them comfort in their darkest times were having strange effects on some of the congregation today. To Luke, for example, closely supported by his friends though he was, they seemed to be like bullets aimed for his heart and he winced at every one, his face growing paler and paler as his eyes grew wider and more bright.

To the close family at the front they seemed to cause varying degrees of discomfort. Emma stared fixedly ahead, her face set and grim. Katie dabbed at her eyes and leaned on her sister while Jonathan squirmed in his seat attempting to surreptitiously look over his shoulder when his grandmother and older sister were not looking. What was he looking at? What was he looking for?

As more words spilled forth the pain they were causing grew ever more evident until the minister began to grow alarmed and cut short what he was going to say, nodding to the organist to warm up for an early beginning on the hymn. He directed the mourners to the correct page in their hymnal and the notes of the organ floated over them as they shuffled to their feet.

Make me a channel of your peace,
Where there is hatred let me bring your love,
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord:
And where there's doubt, true faith in you.

Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there's despair in life let me bring hope.
Where there is darkness, only light,
And where there's sadness, ever joy.

O, Master, grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console.
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved, as to love with all my soul!

Make me a channel of your peace.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
In giving to all men that we receive,
And in dying that we're born to eternal life.

Again the minister was acutely aware of Luke’s voice, strong and pure, almost aggressive in its intensity. He was also acutely aware of the effect it had on the front row. Before the hymn was half over they had all stopped singing. Mrs Davies looked blackly angry, Katie lost, Emma grim and Jonathan... Jonathan was openly in tears for the first time.

Half way through the hymn Luke’s voice began to falter and on the last verse it cracked and died. Jonathan, Emma and Katie all turned their head and, when the last notes faded away and the minister directed everyone to sit, all four of them remained on their feet. For the first time he was struck by the resemblance between them.

Luke seemed to be unaware that everyone else had sat. He was rigid, his eyes fixed on the coffin, as if no one and nothing else existed. The other three were fixed on him.

Mrs Davies tried to get her three grandchildren to sit down but only Katie did so, bowing her head and sobbing into her handkerchief. Almost incandescent with rage Mrs Davies stood up and turned around. Shockingly her voice lashed out, startling everyone.

“Abomination! How dare you come here? Isn’t it enough that you tried to ruin his life... do you have to ruin his funeral too? And if you cared nothing for him, for your own dignity... what about the children? Couldn’t you have spared a thought for them? He was their father Luke. Couldn’t you have let them say goodbye with dignity?”

If Luke had been rigid before, he was now absolutely frozen, a look of pure horror on his face. His eyes, like those of a deer caught in headlights were fixed on Mrs Davies and he looked as though he could no more have moved or spoken than he could have grown wings and flown.

Emma tugged at her grandmother’s arm and Jonathan stared at Luke who was entirely unaware of his existence.

Shrugging off her granddaughter’s arm Mrs Davies took a step into the aisle. A man, from the other side of the aisle rose and came to her side but she shrugged him off too. The minister could feel the tension radiating from everywhere. Whatever was going on they all knew and the congregation was divided roughly in two between those who were transfixed on the angry woman and those who had eyes only for the lonely boy.

Adin and Sarah were also on their feet, both of them holding on to Luke for grim death, and glaring at Mrs Davies as though they could ward off her words with just those looks. Unfortunately, they could not.

“Go home Luke. Leave us be. Can’t you see you're not wanted here? He made that clear enough when he was alive. He hated you Luke, for what you did to him... he hated you and so do we. You are nothing to us. You are more dead than he is. How could you dare to come here? How could you show your face after what you did? You are an abomination, you are sick. It’s you who deserve to be dead, not him. Get out of here. I wish you were dead. I wish you had never lived. Get out... get out!” Her voice rose and her hand came up to point at him, clawed as though she wanted nothing more than to tear out his heart.

For a moment the chapel was filled with a heavy, shocked silence. The minister, whose eyes were fixed on Luke thought with sick horror that he was going to pass out, as he swayed under the terrible weight of the words and closed his eyes. But he did not, and when he opened his eyes they were clear and cold. He did not raise his voice. It was barely above a whisper but every single person present heard it.

“You are a hypocrite. You sang those words; those words about love, and consolation, and pardon. But they are not words you live by, that you have every lived by. There is no love, no compassion in your heart any more than there was in his. You say that I ruined his life... how exactly did I do that? By telling the truth? What good did that do me? You wouldn’t recognise truth if your life depended on it.

“He's the one who ruined lives -mine... theirs... My only regret is that I didn’t take them with me when I left. That I left them in that... pit of snakes to absorb your poison and become like you.

“I’m sorry Jon, Katie, Em. I thought I was protecting you but I was only making it worse in the end. I’m so sorry.” His eyes fixed on Mrs Davies. “You say you wish I were dead, that I had never been born, well, you’re not the only one. So do I.”

Almost flinging Sarah out of the way he stumbled into the aisle. He turned once, his eyes on the coffin again and said, very quietly. “Goodbye father. I hope you burn in hell,” then he ran for the door. No one tried to stop him, but there were more than one voice that called after him.

“Luke... wait!”

***

Adin tripped over Sarah as he tried to follow Luke. Then there were people everywhere. It seemed to take an age before he was free of them and yet Luke was still only a few yards away. There were many bodies milling about in the courtyard, around the cars. They had not been able to see what was going on inside and so had been unprepared when Luke burst out, reaching out automatically to try and restrain him as he barged blindly into them. Between this and the cars he careered into like a ball in a pin ball game he had only just managed to break into the open when Adin made it outside.

Desperately Adin pushed through the crowd but he knew he wouldn't reach Luke before he got to the gates, and once outside who knew where he would go. He was in an agony of helpless frustration when a dark figure literally flew overhead, not bothering to try and dodge the cars, instead leaping up onto and over them. Then all he saw was a streak of darkness burst into the driveway and pound after Luke, catching him entirely unawares with such force that he was knocked to the ground and they both tumbled over and over on the glistening tarmac.

By the time Adin reached them Jonathan had Luke in his arms and was sobbing over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Luke looked as though he'd had the air literally and figuratively knocked out of him and was just lying absolutely still staring up into his brother’s face. Jonathan’s hair had come loose and was flying around him, every bit as long and thick as Luke’s. His glasses had come off in the fall, and there was no mistaking now, they were brothers.

For a long moment Luke stared in complete shock, and then he suddenly threw his arms around Jonathan and the two embraced, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. Luke was also now repeating. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The gathering crowd, held back a little by Adin and Sarah were silent and still, shocked.

The silence was broken by the high pitched voice of Mrs Davies. “Jonathan! Get away from him. Get away from that boy... right NOW.”

Jonathan’s head went up as if yanked back by the hair and he tightened his hold on his brother. “That boy? That boy? That BOY is my brother. Thanks to you and... and that... thanks to you he was ripped out of my life six years ago. I was a child then and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t fight... not all of you. But I'm not a child any more. I am a MAN and I will not lose him again.”

Mrs Davies looked stunned and even took a half step backwards. It was left to Emma to stride forward and put her arm around her grandmother.

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that! After everything she's done for us.”

“Done? What has she done? What exactly has she done?” Jonathan took a deep breath and his voice went absolutely flat and cold. “Let me tell you what she’s done. Luke was right. She poisoned us, both of them did. Drip by drip they fed us poison until we didn’t know what was right and what was wrong anymore.

“We all ended up believing it was Luke’s fault, that he was the evil one. And we did believe it, all of us... we believed it even though we KNEW. We all KNEW. You knew Em... you saw, you heard. And you Katie... you were just a baby but you hid in your room with your head under the pillow. And you... YOU...”he almost spat at his grandmother. “You saw more than any of us... you saw the bruises, you cleaned up the blood... and you made excuses every time.

“Every time it was always Luke’s fault. He was evil... he was perverted... he was an abomination... he deserved it... every beating, every bruise, every...” he faltered and Emma took the opportunity to stride forwards and everyone gasped as she delivered a resounding slap to his face.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you speak to her like that! Don’t you stand up for him! You know what he is. You know what he did. He almost tore our family apart.”

For a moment Jon was speechless, staring at his sister in wide eyed horror. Then he laughed. “She got you good, didn’t she? What? Do you have selective amnesia now? Are you going to tell me that you didn’t see what happened? That you didn’t hear the... the..? Don’t you remember Emma, how you used to take Katie up to your room and hide? Don’t you remember creeping out onto the landing, looking down through the bars... too scared to move... too scared to breathe?”

“Shut up Jonathan.”

“That’s what he said. Shut up Jonathan. Go to your room. Look after your sisters. This has nothing to do with you. Shut up or you’ll be next.”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan Davies. Shut your mouth and get over here with your family. This is a funeral; your father’s funeral and I demand you show him some respect.”

“Respect? Tell me... grandmother... exactly how much respect does my father deserve? How much respect is deserved by a man who beats his own son to a bloody pulp, and throws him out of the house just because...” he was brought up short by a cold hand on his lips. He looked down at Luke who shook his head wearily then slowly got to his knees, breaking his brother’s hold.

“Don’t Jon. It’s over. You have no idea how...” He closed his eyes for a moment and then pressed on. “It’s amazing that you would... that you are... but it’s not your fight. It never was. It’s okay. It’s over now.”

“Not my fight? Damn right it’s my fight. Do you have ANY idea how much I've hurt all these years? When it happened I was twelve years old. I hero worshipped you, my big brother. You were everything to me and you were... you looked after me, all of us. You took care of us in every way and what did we do for you... we let you down! We let him... we let him do that to you... over and over. We hid our faces and... what’s ever worse... after... we... we let them lie. We let everyone believe it was you. When you tried to tell the truth, when you tried to save yourself we turned our backs on you and we never even realised you were trying to save US.”

Suddenly Jonathan got to his feet and stood facing his sister and grandmother. They cringed at the look on his face. Then he raised his eyes to the sombre, shocked crowd.

“My brother Luke is the bravest man I ever met.”

“Jonathan... don’t...”

He ignored her. “My father deceived you. He deceived you all. He was NOT a good man. He was NOT a good father and a loving husband. He beat my mother and when she got ill and frail he took it out on us instead... or at least he would have if it hadn’t been for Luke.”

“Jonathan! Shut up. What are you doing? How dare you say such things? You’re as bad as he is.”

“Shut up, Grandma.” Mrs Davies stared in shock at her granddaughter. Emma still looked grim, but now there was something else, shame maybe. “He’s right. It’s time. We’ve let Luke be the whipping boy for far too long... in far too many senses of the word.”

She came to stand by Jonathan and put her arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry Jon, for everything. It was my fault. I was the oldest and I should have protected you, all of you but the truth is I was scared. I was terrified of him, of my own father.

“Jonathan’s right. I heard. I saw. I knew what was going on. I knew that he was hitting my mother and then, when Luke tried to protect her... he hit Luke too. Whenever he started to get angry, especially after Mother died, whenever it looked as though he was going to go off on one of us, Luke stepped in and took it... and we let him. Over and over we let him. We ran away and we hid and we listened to...” She shuddered and closed her eyes for a moment to regain her composure.

“Not only did we allow it to happen, allow Luke to take all our pain, our...” she swallowed, “but when he finally tried to do something about it... to save not just himself but all of us... we turned on him. We were still scared. We were more scared of our father than we were loyal to our brother. We lied. We said it had never happened, that Luke was the one to blame. We kept up the deception all these years... because we were afraid.”

“Emma, not you too?! What’s got into you?” Mrs Davies turned to Luke and, before anyone could stop her she swung back her handbag and hit him full in the face, sending him sprawling onto the floor. He just lay there in shock, staring at her as she stood over him screaming, completely out of control.

“Are you happy now? You’ve accomplished it at last. You’ve destroyed your family, you evil creature. Your lies have perverted even the pure of heart. You destroyed your father with those lies. You destroyed him! He was never the same after you left. You tore the heart out of him with those vile things you said.”

“Mrs Davies... please.” The minister took her gently by the arm but she was too far gone to notice or to care and continued to scream obscenities at Luke who simply stared at her, completely dazed by the venom in her words.

“Mrs Davies... I must insist.” She rounded on him and would surely have hit him if she had not realised at the last minute who he was.

“You don’t understand, Minister. The boy is pure evil. He has always been the viper in our breast. He pollutes everything and everyone he comes into contact with. The things he said about his father... they were vile... vile. He is unclean, an abomination.”

“Please Mrs Davies. This is not appropriate.”

“Not appropriate? If only you knew what he brought into our home, a good Christian home. He was... he was...” she pointed a shaking finger at Luke who cringed back, away from the awful heat of her anger and hatred. Turning to face the minister, a look of twisted triumph on her face she delivered her coup de gras. “He was found in the arms of another... man.”

If she had expected the minister to react she was sadly mistaken. He shook his head sadly and raised his eyes to the crowd who were shocked to a man. Some of the women were weeping and many of them turned their faces away, burning with shame.

***

The minister was truly shocked, more shocked than he could ever remember being in all his long career. He could barely take it in. He looked at them, one by one. Luke had closed his eyes, unable to bear the look on his grandmother’s face, and turned his head away. He was crying quietly, and as the minister watched, he turned slowly onto his side and curled into a tight ball, as though he could shut them all out. Adin was on his knees, unnoticed and he bent forwards putting his arm around Luke, shielding him with his body. A good friend indeed, and more perhaps.

Emma had her arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and he was weeping into hers, his anger dead, drowned by sorrow and shame. Katie was staring at her grandmother a pleading look in her eyes and Mrs Davies... Mrs Davies was looking at him with triumph in her eyes, triumph and expectation... a certainty in her own self righteousness that made him feel physically sick.

“This has gone far enough. This is a funeral and not soap opera. It is a solemn and serious occasion. It is entirely inappropriate to discuss these matters at this time.” Even as he said it he felt a stab of guilt, a shame of his own. Was he doing the same thing they had done? Was he just sweeping it all under the carpet again? Was he condemning those poor children to a life of regret and sorrow, shutting them away from their only chance for closure, of redemption?

“Please...”

He was drawn to the soft, plaintive voice and smiled gently at the pretty little girl who stared up at him with great big blue eyes that were stunned, shocked, confused, hurt.

“Please... is... is she right? Is he evil? Is Luke damned? Did he... was it his fault, only..?” Tears were bubbling over and the minister was stunned into silence by the suffering that had been caused to this child. She was barely twelve even now. His mind raced, searching for the words to reassure her.

“Katie!”

One thing he could do and that was give the poor child space to speak her mind. He silenced the grandmother with a look and a firm grip on her arm.

“I’m sorry. I know you said... only I need... I really need...”

“That’s alright child. Wasn’t it Jesus himself who said ‘Suffer the children to come unto me’?”

“I remember. I don’t want to. I hid in my room and put a pillow on my head but I couldn’t... I still heard. And then... then he came... he always came and he held me and told me it was going to be alright. He promised he would take care of me. He was the only one. He played games with me and held my hand on the way to school. He made the bullies leave me alone and he... he made me feel safe. He was the only one who made me feel safe. He’s the only one who has ever made me feel safe.

“And then... and then they said he was bad. They said he was damned, that he was going to burn in hell. They shouted at him and they hurt him and then they shouted at us and told us that if we told anyone what had happened we would burn in hell too.

“He... he told me... he told me to be brave, that if I was brave everything would be alright. He said that no matter what happened he would always love me. I was scared. I was scared of everything. I was even scared of him. He was... he was... he tried to...” For a moment she was overcome with sobbing but quickly brought herself back under control. Every eye was on her. Even Luke had turned his head to look at her and she turned, as if in a trance, to look at him. After that there was no one in existence except the two of them.

“Now I know what you meant. I know what you meant that night. When you said I had to do whatever it took to keep me safe, even if it meant doing a bad thing. I know what you meant when you said that you loved me but sometimes love isn’t enough. I didn’t then. I was only six. I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand anything. All I understood was that suddenly you weren’t there anymore.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you had to be because if you weren’t you'd come for me, right? You wouldn’t have left me there, all alone. Then when Grandma came and told us you'd done a bad thing, that you'd sinned against god and that you deserved to be punished I... I didn’t know what to think, what to believe.

“She told us that... that Daddy had tried to help you, to ‘straighten you out’ but you... you were too bad, too sick. She told us the things he did to you were not just punishments but done in love to try and make you see your sin. She told us that the only way we could help you was to make you face up to what you'd done. She made us lie. When the men came to talk to us she told us what we had to say and... and I was scared because you weren’t there, so I said them, we all did.

“I believed them. I believed them that you were bad Luke. In my heart I loved you but I hated you for leaving me alone with them and it was easier to believe them.”

She turned back to the Minister, her eyes tormented, pleading. “Were they right? Were they right that he deserved it, that the things they did to him were right? Is he...” She couldn’t continue but she had said enough. The minister, thinking deeply and carefully took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. He was speaking to her but his words were for them all.

“No one deserves to be hurt by those who are supposed to be taking care of them. No one deserves to be brutalised and beaten. No one deserves to be betrayed by those they trust the most. Most of all, no one deserves to be punished for the way they were born.

“Your brother is not evil Katie, he is not damned and he did not deserve what happened to him. There is no doubt at all in my heart about that. There are those, within our religion who believe that homosexuality is wrong, that it goes against the teachings of the bible. It is not for me to say that they are wrong, although this does not accord with my own interpretations.

“Belief is a very personal thing. I cannot condemn anyone for what they believe. It is their absolute right. However, to believe something is one thing, to impose that belief on others, to act in violence on the strength of it... that is another thing altogether. That is not acceptable and never could be.

“You are not to be blamed for this, none of you. You were children and you were in a desperate situation. There was nothing you could have done. If you had fought you would have been hurt too. Luke is a special person, a very wise soul. He was absolutely right when he told you that you had to do whatever needed to be done to keep yourself safe. And you did it.” He raised his eyes. “You all did it. That is all a child could do. Keep strong, keep safe until you are grown and able to fight your battles.”

His eyes swept the faces, each one in so much pain. “This deceit, this web of lies has been kept alive for far too long. The guilt and pain it has caused is too deep to be unravelled by anything I could say here and now. But know this... The Lord our God is a merciful God. He has infinite forgiveness. As the words we have just sung have told us... it is in forgiving that we are forgiven, in loving that we are loved, in showing compassion that we find mercy.

“The past is passed. The future is yours to shape. Let it start now. In forgiveness and compassion.”

He turned and held out his hands. One to Luke and one towards Emma and Jonathan. Luke and Adin exchanged looks that spoke more loudly to them than anyone else, as without a word being spoken Adin smiled, a shaky smiled and nodded once. He released Luke and stood. Somewhat hesitantly, Luke took the outstretched hand and climbed stiffly to his feet. Although he almost flinched at the icy coldness of the hand in his, the minister held on tight, speaking more with one look, one smile than he could have with a thousand words. He saw something behind those inscrutable eyes crumble, and he squeezed the hand as Luke stumbled, pouring strength into the trembling body.

In almost the same moment Emma took his other hand, Jonathan still clinging to her, his eyes fixed on his brother, dazed and hesitant but hopeful. Between them Katie looked small and confused but, even so she was the first to move. In a sudden burst of action she flung herself on Luke, almost knocking him over, and clung to him, her arms around his waist. The minister hardly needed to bring his hands together because suddenly they were all moving and, sandwiching Katie between them, they embraced in silence.

Mrs Davies, unfortunately, was not able to remain silent.

“How can you let this happen? How can you condone what he has done? You are supposed to be a man of God. You are supposed to be the channel for His word. You cannot suggest that He would forgive, that He would condone...”

The Minister smiled at her, a gentle smile that cut through her anger and caused her to shudder and fall silent.

“The Good Lord is a merciful Father, which is more than your son was Mrs Davies. These children have done nothing wrong, none of them. Do you really think that God would condone a child being beaten and abused? A family torn apart? Children forced to lie through fear?”

Desperately she raised her eyes to the crowd, searching for support. Eyes dropped, faces turned away. No one would look directly at her.

“Will... you knew. You knew what he was like, how difficult he was. You knew that he drove Dai to this, that he was the one who ripped the family apart.” Will shook his head and turned away. Many of them were turning away now, drifting down the road towards the gates.

“Bronwen. Surely you...” Bronwen glared at her then pointedly walked around her to stand behind Luke, touching his shoulder gently, beginning to cluck a how cold he was. She called over her husband in the way that only a Welsh woman can, demanded he took off his coat, and then wrapped it around Luke’s shoulders.

She was the first of many. Before long the entire crowd, that of it which was left as almost half had dispersed and were already leaving the car park, were clustered around the children, leaving Mrs Davies and the Minister alone.

“But... but I...”

“Faith without mercy is cold, unforgiving and sterile, fruitless as barren soil. Belief without compassion is blind. Knowledge without wisdom can never bring true understanding. To follow a religious conviction, blind to its consequences and closed to all good feelings of compassion, love and consolation... that is the true evil. You have been living a lie for many years. You believed it, that I wholly accept. You were as deceived as anyone, but deceived you were. You are right, in that the deceiver’s influence is evident in this... but his hand was not your grandson... it was you.”

Feeling infinitely sad the minister turned away and walked back into the chapel. As he did so the sun burst out from the clouds, lighting up the stained glass window, catching and holding his attention. The image of Jesus, surrounded by children, one with their hand in his, one with his hand on their head, seemed to smile down at him and he could almost imagine that, for a brief instant a smile played on the serene, joyous face.

© 2009 Nephylim

Story Discussion