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It was a glorious morning – even as early as it was. The rays of sun that had made their way through the blinds were scattered across the beige duvet and the white pillow on the right side of the bed. Outside, the garden was splashed with a vibrant green and tons of other colours coming from the tulips, the hydrangeas, the roses and the magnolia tree. There was a hint of dew on the tulips’ petals, making them even more glorious and silky.
Louis walked through the garden, making sure he followed the pebble path, scanning all the flowers and looking out for the best ones. He chose the white tulips and carried them inside. Then, he picked up a white string and tied them up, careful not to damage their stalk.
He got on the car and drove silently, the little bouquet meticulously placed on the passenger seat – Louis knew how he loved to see those little drops of dew sparkling like pearls on top of the smooth petals. It pained him. All of this made his heart shrink to the size of an undeveloped walnut and made his lungs want to give up and stop breathing.
He parked his car and picked up the bouquet before exiting the vehicle. He always hesitated before walking up to the silver gates, thinking that all of it was just a bad nightmare like the ones he used to have back in the days. But deep down he knew all of that was true, that a part of him was gone forever.
Louis slowly pushed the gate and walked to the spot he now knew by heart. There it was, the white cross that marked the spot where Harry’s lifeless body lay and rested in peace forever. Louis kneeled down and put the flower bouquet on top of the grass. He fixated the agonizing crucifix, like he always did whenever he came by.
‘Hi,’ Louis’ voice came out weak and on the verge of breaking, ‘The garden looks amazing. The flowers blossomed earlier this time and now it looks like a botanic garden, it’s incredible!’ He paused.
Louis always made sure to tell Harry how everything was going at home – he thought it would help him stay sane and maintain the bond they had, not to mention that it helped him hold back the tears and the thought of giving everything up.
‘Everything’s really dull at the house without you,’ A muffled chuckle erupted from the pit of Louis’ throat and with it came the first tear. It landed on Louis’ jeans and, subconsciously, he started patting the wet spot.
‘God, Harry. I miss you so much, why did you have to leave me like this?’ Louis’ eyes were swollen from holding back the tears and his head felt heavy from all the stress he had been through for the past 2 years.
He looked around the cemetery and, as always, there were about 6 people spread across the entire space and it made Louis wonder if the other relatives didn’t miss the ones buried in there and if Louis would end up like that and stop visiting Harry’s grave in years’ time.
No, he couldn’t.
‘Are you okay, son?’ An unfamiliar voice asked.
Louis focused his attention on the man standing next to him. He stood up and came face to face with the aged man who looked like he could use a good few hours of sleep. Louis shook his head, stuffing his hands on his jeans’ pockets.
‘They took one away from you too?’ The man asked looking at Harry’s grave.
Louis gave him a small nod, wiping away the rowdy tears that had escaped. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and focused his attention on the person next to him. The man exhaled deeply and looked at the clear blue sky, as if preparing himself for the upcoming moments.
‘My boy was 27 when they decided it was time for him to embrace the inevitable sleep. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time,’ The man talked as if Louis was a close relative, a hint of pain and anger behind his words, ‘He always put others first and I guess he felt obligated to rescue his mate – which he did, but he couldn’t save himself.’
Louis looked over at the man, who was now looking at his son’s grave, and felt a strange but deep connection to him. They shared the same unfortunate luck and even though they didn’t know each other’s names, Louis felt like he somehow could relate to this stranger.
‘Sorry to hear,’ Louis spoke, his words being carried out by the gentle wind surrounding them.
He was trying to gather strength to share Harry’s story, but he couldn’t. It was too personal to be shared with someone who was still a mere nameless man. At the same time, he felt like he was in some sort of debt with that man – he had heard his story and now it was time for him to deliver something equally painful. Maybe it would help him through his grief. He hadn’t properly told anyone about how things had happened – only both their parents knew the full picture – and talking to someone who had gone through the same didn’t seem like a bad idea.
‘Harry was 21 when I got the terrifying letter saying he had been killed in action,’ Louis paused kicking some dirt with his foot, ‘My heart just sank to the ground, you know, I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to. Everything happened so fast… One day he was waving goodbye, promising he’d return safe and sound and the other day I receive his blood soaked uniform.’
‘You two were married?’ The man turned to Louis squinting his eyes due to the light that came from the sun shining above them.
‘No. Not yet, at least,’ Louis felt heavy on the inside and was finding it hard to get the words out of his mouth, ‘I was planning on proposing when he returned from his mission, but that didn’t quite work out.’
The man didn’t comment and to be honest, Louis didn’t want him to. He just wanted someone who would listen to him and this man seemed pretty good at assessing whether he should or should not interfere.
‘It’s crazy, all of it – from the moment you receive the news up until the moment your find yourself living alone. I had always been against his decision of joining the army, but it was the first thing he did when he turned 18.’
‘I was the one who talked Tom into it. I was in the army for 25 years and managed to make it out alive. Tom had grown up listening to my stories about protecting the country and fighting the enemy and I guess it sparked an interest in him.’ The man filled Louis’ silence.
‘Thank you for your services sir.’ Louis did what he felt like would be the right thing to do.
The man seemed content, showing off a forced smile, ‘Tom was smart, he could’ve enrolled in any course. Could’ve become a doctor or a lawyer… but he had to follow my footsteps, and now there’s nothing left. I try to tell myself I’m not the reason that led up to this, but I find it hard to believe.’
‘It’s not your fault and I know this is the most cliché thing to say but, truly, it isn’t. Your son made his choice; you didn’t push him into joining the army. In fact, you might have helped him making the biggest decision in his life and besides, it’s not your fault that he died – like you said, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.’ Louis tried to comfort the man and relieve his pain.
Even though he was just a stranger that happened to be at the grave-yard, Louis knew how important and comforting it felt to hear those words coming from someone who had no obligation to do so.
The man nodded and it seemed like he was holding back his tears, ‘Thank you.’
Louis was lost for words, he was reliving the moment when he found out about Harry’s death in his head and it all seemed too much.
‘This is going to sound crazy,’ Louis started, gaining the man’s attention, ‘I used to see Harry at our house. After he died, I kept on seeing him sitting midst our flower garden, smiling at me. It wasn’t scary and it’s not that I can say I see ghosts, because he wasn’t a ghost; I don’t think so. He was a product of my imagination, I guess.’
‘My wife says the same. She says she feels our son’s presence around the house. At first I thought it was the despair talking, but then I slowly started to believe it.’ The man took a brief pause, ‘Sometimes I look at my grandson and I see Tom’s face. It’s a blessing to have a piece of him still with us, a true blessing.’
Louis lowered his head. There was nothing left from Harry; nothing that could give him the strength to carry on and nothing that would resemble their love. He took a deep breath and walked towards the bench standing a few feet from them. The man followed suit.
‘I just wish I had more time with him. When he went on the mission we didn’t even have a proper goodbye,’ Louis masked the sadness in his voice but his tears betrayed him, ‘I just wanted to let him know how much I love him.’
The man placed his hand on Louis’ back, trying to sooth him, ‘Son, he knows how much you love him. They might be gone as a physical being but their soul will always be here – hell, they’re probably listening to us!’
The man’s belief in an after-life brought calmness to Louis’ own soul. The conversation ended there after the man had gently patted Louis’ back and walked to his son’s resting spot, before leaving Louis’ sight.
Louis walked up to where Harry lay and whispered, ‘I love you so much, don’t ever forget that.’
He walked back to his car and drove home. He felt somewhat more relieved and lighter. Louis wanted to let go of all the bad memories and focus on the happy ones; focus on how Harry used to lightly hum a song when he was gardening or how Harry would nuzzle his head on Louis’ neck when they were watching TV.
Arriving home still felt weird, because Harry wasn’t there to greet him like he normally would. Inside, the silence that filled the house turned it cold and immense. The only sound was coming from the wall clock in the kitchen. Louis walked through the house and opened the backyard door; his eyes scanned the entire garden in a chance of maybe seeing the smiling love of his life sitting in the cute white bench in front of the daisies.
There was nothing there.
Louis stepped outside and made his way towards the bench. His fingers traced the chipped wood covered in white paint before he took a seat. He looked around, taking in the beauty that had resulted from Harry’s work.
‘We could put the gladiolus here… and the roses over there. Maybe the magnolia tree could stand here? Oh, and we would reserve this entire flower bed for the tulips. An explosion of color: white tulips, pink tulips, orange tulips… even green tulips! Let’s have it all Lou, let’s make this our little piece of heaven and watch the flowers grow and transform our backyard into a Monet painting!’
They did it and Harry was right, the garden looked beautiful. All of this beauty was making Louis’ head race with ideas. He hadn’t felt this inspired since before the dreaded day, but right now Louis felt like he hadn’t been properly looking at the garden; before, he had just shallowly observed it and now, all of the colors and grace that had resulted from Harry’s work seemed to flabbergast Louis.
He rushed inside and returned with his easel, a blank canvas, paints and brushes, stopping his pace on the staircase that led to the backyard because, yes, there he was. Sitting on the bench where they carved their initials, looking back at Louis and offering him a warming smile. Louis smiled back and set his material next to the form of Harry.
He picked up a brush and the good old feeling that he used to get when he was painting returned. It brought him peace and the fact that Harry was “there” delighted him. Louis started painting everything he saw, trying to capture all of the beauty surrounding him.
That would be his masterpiece.
Everything Louis loved would be captured in that painting: the garden and the smiling Harry. He felt happy and relaxed. Maybe that was his therapy – maybe painting his surroundings in the presence of his soul mate was what was going to take him off that constant sadness. Now, more than ever, Louis realized Harry was his muse.