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When Skies Have Fallen

Page 45

by Debbie McGowan


  ***

  Arty hadn’t spoken to his mother since, and the way he was feeling he never wanted to speak to her again. His desire to tell her he was homosexual was no longer about seeking her acceptance. He would not beg for it, apologise, nor justify his existence. She had discarded her own brother, in death as in life; Arty listened in solitude to the priest’s mumblings of ashes and dust as Private William Norris was finally laid to rest: no reversed arms, no salutes and no Last Post for this war hero, because he had died in battle, and it was the cruellest and bloodiest of all.

  That was three months ago, and Arty had returned to Dalton Place a changed man. All of his life he had been careful, diligent, like the caterpillar that feeds in preparation for what is to come, meticulously builds its cocoon and cautiously crawls inside. Sealed safely away from the world, the metamorphosis begins, and soon all that remains of the caterpillar is its core essence, the fundamental building blocks of the winged creature that will one day emerge and unfurl, patiently waiting those last few moments as its wings dry and begin to flutter. The transformation finally complete, the beauteous beast soars into the air, magnificent, victorious, and splendidly reckless in its singular, instinctive pursuit.

  Arty could not stop loving Jim, but he had done everything else Jim had asked. No letters, no visits, nothing but an eternal purgatory, and it was time to break his silence, although he was sensible enough to not throw all caution to the wind.

  As Joshua prepared for what would be the last prison visit, Arty made his request: “Please tell your brother I’ll be waiting for him.”

  “I will. But he already knows.”

  “Tell him anyway.”

  Joshua nodded and hugged Arty fondly. “I’ve got a proposal for you both. I’ll explain later.”

  * * * * *

 

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