by Alex Howell
Clara again instructed, “Turn your back to us! You are not supposed to see us when you throw it! Turn around!”
With this, it finally sank in that she was supposed to turn and throw it from behind. As the air was charged with the anticipation of the onlookers, Raina then did as much, tossing the bouquet of flowers over her shoulders.
At first Clara seemed poised to catch it, as the bouquet came hurtling down right above her. As she raised her hand up and remembered Raina’s prediction that it would soon be ‘her going down the aisle’ she thought to herself ‘could it be?’
But just as she raised her hand to grab the flowers, the bouquet bounced right off the tips of her fingers causing it to fall right into the arms of the woman next to her. The lady looked like she was pushing 60. Clara could hear her mutter, “Again? I’ve only been married 5 times before.”
Nevertheless, the older woman ran off with her bouquet, back to her table as if she had just won a great prize as she joked and laughed with the other women she was seated with.
Raina seeing Clara’s disappointment meanwhile, stepped over to her and patted her on the shoulder as she consoled her, “Oh don’t worry—that’s just a bunch of superstition. You didn’t really believe in all that stuff, did you?”
Clara sighed, “No I guess not—but it still would have been nice to have gotten your flowers.”
The DJ then broke through their chatter to announce, “And now for the men… If I may have your attention. The bride is going to have her husband throw her garter to you eligible bachelors out there!”
On cue, a spotlight then lit up a chair in the center of the room, as the DJ instructed, “Alright Mr. Walker, if you could escort your bride to this chair over here, we’ve got a lot of men interested in obtaining a piece of her undergarments!”
Raina who—even without the suggestive intonations of a DJ—never really liked the tradition of a bride having her garter thrown, it just all seemed so chauvinistically barbaric and oppressive to her. The idea that a woman would be forced to throw something as personal as a garter to a throng of eager men seemed undeniably repulsive. Thinking as much she groaned, “Oh brother…”
Mason wasn’t too thrilled himself, but just going through the motions, he helped Raina sit down in the chair. After she sat down, Mason knelt down next to her, and seeing the embarrassment on her face promised, “Don’t worry, I’ll make this as easy as possible.”
Under the watchful eyes of the men who had gathered, Mason then took on of Raina’s feet in his hand and began to pull up her dress, exposing part of her lower leg. Seeing the dress raised, one of the men sounding half inebriated, slurred abrasively, “Ye-yeah!”
Mason finally feeling irked, looked over and shot daggers at the man. He wasn’t sure if it would make any difference, but he wanted to make his displeasure known.
Mason then as promised, shielded Raina from any further duress by slipping his hand up over her knee and—to the chagrin of some of the rowdy onlookers—managed to grab hold, and pull down her garter without having to lift the dress up any further. He then pulled the garter off her foot and gave her toes a gentle squeeze as he looked up at Raina and laughed softly, “Don’t worry—nobody saw a thing.”
Mason stood up with the garment in his hand, and for a second questioned why he was even taking part in such a silly ritual in the first place. But like most on their wedding day, not knowing what else to do, and not wanting to break with tradition, he just shrugged and continued to go through the motions.
And as the men clambered to get in place, he tossed the garter high up over their heads. It went down right in the middle of the crowd and at first it was like watching people in the stands at a baseball game scrambling to get a foul ball—and Mason couldn’t tell who had it.
But then suddenly he heard a familiar voice shout in triumph, “I got it! I got it!” the crowd then slowly cleared enough for Mason to see a grinning Kyle Garrison holding Raina’s garter in his hand as he again proclaimed, “I got! it I got the garter!”
Mason surprised looked to Raina who sighed, “Wow—just my luck.”
Kyle dressed in a grey pin stripe suit that seemed two sizes too big for his wiry frame, then trotted right over with his prize as he remarked to Mason, “Alright Mace—I guess that means you are coming to my wedding next right?”
Mason nodded, as he humored the young man, “Sure thing Kyle…”
Kyle then turned and began to walk away but to Raina’s shock, he actually paused and sniffed the garter, cheerfully remarking, “Hmm… smells like peppermint!” before stuffing it into his pocket and trotting back to his table.
Raina and Mason both stared at each other in disbelief as Raina exclaimed, “What the hell? Did he really just sniff my garter?”
Mason shook his head, “Yeah…And I don’t even want to know what else he might do with it later….”
At which Raina punched him in the arm and exclaimed, “Eww gross…. Mason! Don’t even put the thought in my mind!”
Kyle was the IT guy for Onyx and he was a bit of an oddity. He was kind of like an overgrown, awkward man child that routinely got on everyone’s nerves yet whose intellect was such a vital resource that the rest of the Onyx crew had no choice but to be long suffering with his antics.
But in reality, as much as he could grate on Mason and Raina’s nerves, they had both grown rather fond of the guy, for the most part accepting his foibles with open arms. Even when Kyle’s eccentric predilections verged on the weird and creepy, they liked him enough that they were usually able to look the other way.
After the garter toss had come and gone, the next thing they knew the DJ cut the lights and they heard the opening strains of the song that Mason and Raina chose for their slow dance. The DJ erupted, “Alright folks—get ready for an oldie but a goody! A blast from the remote past, ‘The Carpenters! We’ve Only Just Begun!’”
As the 1970’s pop crooner Karen Carpenter began to sing the first lines of the classic love song, “We’ve only just begun”, the D.J. again beckoned, “Alright Mr. and Mrs. Walker—the floor is yours! Come on down!”
Raina looked at the waiting dance floor and then back to Mason before shrugging, “I guess we don’t have much of a choice huh?”
The rest of the wedding guests then made room as Mason and Raina took center stage under the spotlight. As they held each other in their arms they began to sway back and forth as the Carpenters song from some 50 years prior continued to play, ‘We’ve only just begun… white lace and promises…. A kiss for luck and we’re on our way….’
As the couple contemplated the new life they were indeed just beginning together, it was certainly a touching moment. As Mason held Raina close, the next few minutes seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. And the next thing they knew, they were being ushered back into the banquet room and in front of a giant cake that had been placed on their table.
After the chef handed Mason and Raina each their own knife, Mason stated the obvious, “I guess they want us to cut the cake.”
But right when Mason put his knife to the icing, he looked across the room just in time to lock eyes with a man he had not seen in many years. His name was David Trenton. He had been in the SEALS with Mason when he had first signed up, and had left the SEALS some 15 years prior.
Mason didn’t even know if his old comrade was still alive, let alone have the wherewithal to invite him to his wedding. As such, he intuitively knew that his presence signified that something wasn’t quite right. Mason forced a smile and went ahead and went through the motions of cutting the cake, but as soon as the flashes of the wedding photographers subsided, he knew he had to figure out what is old associate wanted.
Putting the cake knife down he kissed Raina on the cheek before whispering in her ear, “Honey, I have to take care of something. I’ll be right back.”
Without even having to ask, Raina nodded, as she replied, “Sure baby—I’ll be here.”
Mason eternally grateful to have
such an understanding bride, quickly made his way through the crowd and on over to David Trenton. Upon his approach, David immediately put out his hand and clasped hold of Mason’s as he greeted him, “Mason! Congratulations!”
Mason unsure of what else to say, replied, “Thanks David… It’s been a long time.”
David then released Mason’s hand and sighed, “Yeah… sorry for crashing your wedding like this. It’s been so long I just didn’t know how else to contact you.”
It was at this point that Mathew Benton made his way over, after he noticed that Mason was in the middle of a somewhat animated conversation with someone. At first Matt didn’t recognize who Mason was speaking with. But upon stepping over, and standing next to Mason he too recognized this visage from their mutual past, as he exclaimed, “David Trenton! Is that you!”
David squinting his eyes in the glare of the banquet lights then recognized Benton as he too shouted back his greeting, “Well, well, well! If it’s not the ghost himself—Mathew Benton!”
Benton asked the obvious, “What are you doing here man?”
Trenton shook his head, “Yeah, like I was just telling Mason. Sorry for barging in on you guys like this. But I wouldn’t do it unless I had a good reason.”
David then looked Mason right in the eye and his brief expressions of mirth already subsided, pleaded, “I need help—immediately.”
4
A Cry for Justice
As he listened to what David had to say, Mason could hardly believe what he was hearing. He had just dropped the bombshell that his entire family had been kidnapped, tortured, and killed by terrorists. And that he himself was now being hunted by the killers.
How exactly does one respond when they just hear that their old friend’s entire family was massacred? Both Mason and Mathew Benton listened as David’s eyes filled with anguish, as he reported, “They’re all gone. They took everything from me.”
Mason numbly remarked, “I’m sorry David…. when did this happen?”
David looked away as he offered, “Three years ago.”
Benton unsure of what else to say asked, “Is there any kind of clue as to who may be behind this attack.”
David shook his head as his eyes darkened in a perfect storm of bitterness, sadness, and rage, “No—no, they were never found.”
After stating the nature of this cold case, David made a fist and savagely struck himself in the chest as if in an effort to both vent his anger, and to allow him to actualize some of the pain that he felt deep down inside of his soul. It was a pain that had been amplified many fold by the lack of any proper conclusion to what had happened to his family.
Gritting his teeth, he howled, “It’s bad enough to have your family whole destroyed, but to have their killers still on the loose… It’s unbearable! And it has continued to haunted me ever since.”
Mason again repeated, “I’m sorry David…. I wish there was something that I could do for you—but I don’t know where to start.”
After this, David took a deep breath and with a forcible effort, regained some of his composure, before looking at Benton and asking him, “Hey Benton... You’ve always been a bit of a Bible buff, right?”
Mathew Benton despite his rough and tumble exterior did indeed have an interest in scripture, and had at one time even toyed with the idea of signing on to become a chaplain.
Acknowledging as much, he shrugged, “Yeah… Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
David asked, “You remember the story of Cain and Abel?”
Benton replied, “Yes—yes I do.”
David nodded, “Very good. Do you remember what God said after Cain murdered Abel?”
Benton nodded, “I believe so yes….”
David then answered for him, “God declared that the very Earth cried out for the innocent blood of Abel that was spilled upon it.”
Looking Benton right in the eye, he told him, “That’s exactly how I feel.”
Lowering his smoldering gaze to the ground, he continued, “Everywhere I go I can feel the very ground upon which I walk crying out for vengeance on behalf of the family that was taken away from me and snuffed out.”
Benton’s reaction was similar to Mason’s as he struggled to find the words to console his friend. What can you say to someone that has endured so much tragedy? All Benton could muster was, “I’m sorry man…”
Mathew Benton was always more for action than apologetics however, and putting a hand on David’s shoulder he was quick to inform him, “Don’t worry David… We’re going to find these guys.”
David answered dejectedly, “I don’t know. It’s been three years…”
It had indeed been a long and harrowing three years for David Trenton. After leaving the SEALS some 15 years prior, David had decided to live the straight life with his family, setting down roots in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
Here he went back to college and earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting, and got a job as a CPA for local corporations. Both he and his wife had agreed that a job crunching numbers was most certainly a safer prospect than a job with the SEALS dodging bullets. They never imagined that the stable little world they had built for themselves would become ripped asunder in such an alarming fashion.
The trouble had actually begun after David was featured on a local news story about successful veterans in the local community. His face and story promoted in the local media was apparently enough to alert the terrorists that had been looking for him, of his location. He was then duly tracked down and targeted by the terrorist group.
Resulting in David coming home to find his front door kicked in and his wife and children missing. Shortly thereafter David began to receive anonymous calls and texts taunting him about his wife and kids that were being held hostage. He went to the police and tried to have them trace the calls, but it was no use—the assailants had done their homework and covered their tracks.
Once his family had been seized, the things that David Trenton had to endure were horrific beyond belief. And after going through all of this pain and suffering, about 72 hours later he would receive word that his wife and child were both confirmed to be dead.
After relating the circumstances of the tragedy, David again expressed his doubt of ever finding the perpetrators, as he bitterly stated, “After all this time, it’s hard for me to believe that I’ll ever have any closure or sense of justice, yet the earth does indeed still cry out for their spilled blood.”
Mathew Benton had been listening to the account rather intently and it was one that he could intuitively relate to since his own family had been tragically lost as a result of his work. When his family was massacred by terrorists while he was stationed in Afghanistan, Mathew felt that his life was over. It was only through the help of his friend Mason that he had been able to make it though.
This was help that he felt compelled to replicate for others whenever the opportunity presented itself. As such, offering aid to David Trenton, a fellow brother in arms was something that came quite naturally. Wishing to express his solidarity, Benton put a hand on David’s shoulder as he informed him, “Don’t worry David. The pain that you have expressed to us today has found an audience, and my ears are attuned enough to hear their cry.”
As David look toward Benton with the faintest glimmer of hope, Mathew Benton declared, “And you have more than my sympathy—you have my pledge to hunt down whoever is responsible for this outrage.”
5
The School of Hard Onyx
From their SEAL days Mason had always remembered David Trenton as a man of supreme confidence and it shook him to his core to see what he had been reduced to. With blood shot eyes and trembling hands, he looked like a man who hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years—not since his family had been decimated some 3 years prior.
He looked like a caged animal warily darting furtive glances to the exit of the banquet hall as if he were either contemplating a hasty retreat, or keeping a look out for potential infiltrators.
He showed all the classic symptoms of a person locked into a static state of nonstop hyper vigilance.
All of their hard times in the service had never provoked this kind of post traumatic response in David, but whatever had happened to his own personal family most certainly had. Mathew Benton was the one that could most easily sympathize with David since his own family had been killed by extremists while he was stationed abroad.
Indeed, it was only through the help of his buddy Mason Walker that he was able to pull through his own tragedy. But even throughout Benton’s own personal tragedy, the one thing that always stood as consolation was that his family’s attackers at least had the decency to kill their prey quickly.
But according to the horrid tale that David had told them, his wife and children had no such luck. They died a horribly slow and tortuous death. This was the sort of thing that could drive any man to the brink of insanity. C0nsidering the circumstances, Mason figured that it was really a wonder that David was holding up as well as he had.
And as David looked toward Mason, his former team leader, he pleaded once again, “Mason, you’ve got to help me. I’m at my wits end. I’ve expended all of my resources and I have nowhere else to turn.”
Mason’s response was immediate as he declared, “Of course, whatever you need David—you’ve got it.”
With a ragged breath, David painfully sighed, “Thank you.”
Lowering his gaze and looking at the ground David then added, “I don’t want to alarm you, but it goes deeper than just helping me find justice. I came here also to give you guys a heads up.”
David paused before continuing, “The people that have done this to me, have done this to others.”
Mason asked, “They have?”
David nodded, “And not only that—these others they have done this to, are all former navy SEALS.”
Prompting the intently listening Mathew Benton to voice his surprise, “What?! You’re kidding!”