Ashes to Ashes

The Captain’s “medical leave” was suspicious with a feel of relief and suspicion. John’s gratitude rush was a well-deserved break from the suffocating case and an opportunity for him to clear his head. However, he still felt some lingering doubts inside of him. Was this actually about his welfare or just a smart way of keeping him at arm’s length as they carried on with their investigations?

When he walked out into the sun, it seemed to be something strange that touched his skin. Then there were two weeks ahead of him. In those two weeks he would have to confront the ghosts that haunt him: all-too-real accidents that took away his wife, brutal murder of his coreligionist brother, and now increasing uncertainty regarding himself. He stroll aimlessly through familiar streets which echoed emptiness so deep.

Reaching a deserted park, John dropped onto a crumbling bench; its cold metal pierced through his flimsy jacket. Searching through his pockets, he found a crumpled cigarette box which somehow felt like a betrayal. He pressed it against the bench in vain trying to extinguish his burning questions.

All of a sudden he heard a voice which was familiar to him. “You look terrible John.” She stood beside him, her sharp eyes sweeping over his untidy appearance. He looked the other way, refusing to meet her eye.

“What do you want from me Stevie?”

“To talk”, she said in a firm voice. “Always trust me John.”

He paused, and words that the Captain had told him returned: "You better go. You know what he’s like." Is this another test? But if truth be told, there was a need for someone who could listen to his confessions. It was as though he sighed, with the weight of the secret threatening to strangle him.

“Okay Stevie,” he said hoarsely. “Speak.”

The sun set below the horizon throwing long dark shadows as John poured out emotions that had been tearing up inside him. He narrated about his sorrow, guilt and desperate act committed at the crime scene on how he planted cocaine on an innocent victim wanting them to believe it was his rival gang thus reducing pressure in their own neighborhood

Stevie listened carefully; a complex array of emotions played on her face when he stopped talking after a suspense filled silence followed suit; however, Stevie spoke surprisingly gently.

"John, I am aware that you acted wrongly," she said. "However, deep inside you remain a good person, who has lost his way. John, you require assistance and it is time to tell the truth."

Her utterances were like a candle in pitch darkness. There could still be a chance for survival or redemption if only… possibly…. John glanced at Stevie; there was a little flicker of hope in his eyes.

“Stevie! Stevie! he muttered. “Please help me.”