Have Mercy

by Siobhán Béabhar

  "You've lived here how long again?" I snorted. I didn't wait for an answer. I escaped the room, making my way towards the stairs as the girls bickered behind me.

  I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I booted up my computer and checked my email for Jack's morning message. He had mentioned that he would email after his briefing, but there was an eight-hour difference between us. I thought the briefing would have been over by now and an email would be waiting for me.

  I left the table and made myself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell of vanilla roast. I had lifted my mug to my mouth when the front door flew open and Red appeared at the doorway. I set the cup on the counter and approached her, a wide smile on my face.

  Since moving in with John, Red had continued to visit us at the house. She had kept her key at my insistence. I told her that she was welcome back if things didn't work out between her and the Admiral.

  She looked sad as she stood in the foyer. Her body was tense as I raised my arms and embraced her. She didn't move. I stepped away, feeling a chill.

  She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room. Grabbing the remote, she turned on the small TV I had tucked away in a corner. "Sit," she ordered.

  I sunk down onto the couch. The blood left my head, causing a pounding sensation. I balled my hands into fists as I listened to her click through the channels. The anxiety built until she finally stopped, her hand falling to her side. Her steps were hurried as she came to sit beside me. "Mercy," she whispered, taking my chin in her hand.

  My gaze fell on the television. On the screen were the images of four men. In the bottom right hand corner was Jack. Underneath their images were the words: "HELICOPTER CRASH. All Four Soldiers feared dead, three bodies recovered."

  I waited for the tears to come, for the choking sensation in my throat, but it didn't happen. I just wanted to pound away the pain; maybe that would bring the tears.

  Through a fog I heard, "What happened?"

  Red wrapped her arms around me, rocking me gently. I sat with my hands tucked between my legs. I wanted to react, but I didn't know how.

  "Oh my God. It's Jack," someone said.

  There was a sob. My eyes searched out the sound, falling on Albertine. Tears streamed down her face. Her mouth opened and closed before she said, "I'm so sorry, Mercy."

  "Don't cry," I said, trying to soothe her. "It's going to be okay."

  Penelope hovered above us, looking down at Red. She placed her hand on my head, kneeling beside me. "Mercy," she said gently.

  "I'm okay," I told her.

  My friends' voices swirled around me. Their words were coming out in slow motion, and the expressions on their faces seemed exaggerated and clownish.

  I stood up. Red fell back, not expecting my sudden move. Penelope stood beside me, her hand on my shoulder. "I need to check my email," I announced to the room. I smiled again, wanting to reassure them.

  I re-entered the kitchen and sat back down at my computer. I refreshed my inbox, hoping to see a message from Jack. There was nothing. I hit the refresh button. Again. Again.

  The room was silent, except for the clicking of my mouse. I kept at it, hoping there was some delay in emails sent overseas. I couldn't keep refreshing the page, hoping for a new email. Wasn't that a definition of crazy, to repeat the same action over and over again, expecting a different result?

  The girls stood at the doorway as I continued to check my inbox. Finally, I shut the computer down and looked back at them. "I need to reboot."

  Red walked over and stood behind me. She placed her hands on the back of my chair. I fidgeted, feeling boxed in by her closeness.

  I logged back into my email. There was a new message, but it wasn't from Jack. It was another message about the empty room.

  Red rubbed my shoulders as I closed my computer. My head dropped into my hands. "He promised me," I whimpered. She didn't say anything as she offered me comfort.

  "Mercy," Melia said from the doorway. "I'll give my pastor a call. He'll come out and visit with you for a while."

  I lifted my face from my hands. "Why? I'm not in the mood for sex."

  "No. He'll pray with you."

  "Thank you, but that's okay," I said.

  "Are you sure?" she asked.

  "Positive. I'm just going up to my room for a while," I said, pushing away from the table. Red's hands tensed on my shoulders before they fell away.

  "Do you want me to come up with you?" Red asked.

  "No, that won't be necessary either."

  "I'll come up," she persisted.

  "I don't need you to come up. I don't need anyone right now," I said. I left the kitchen and entered the foyer. My feet faltered, holding me in place at the bottom of the steps. I felt the anger build as I stared at the stairway that Moses had built.

  "This is your fault." I could feel the others circling behind me, ready to spring into action if I started to harm myself. I ignored them, focusing on the beautiful stairway. "You were jealous, so you took him away. I have been faithful to you and to our family for a very long time. What did you expect from me? That I would continue to wait until I died so I could be with you and Mahala?"

  I fell to my knees, my nails scratching at the carved butterflies. "You left me here, alone; what else was I supposed to do?" I asked, ripping my nails out as I attacked the hard wood. Rage overwhelmed me as I thought about the nights I wasted, living on my memories of Moses. Finally, I had found someone to create new memories with and now he was gone too.

  "Someone get a towel," Red said as she sat down on the step, facing me. I continued to claw the wood. She placed her hands on top of mine, pushing them away from the steps.

  I pulled away, grasping my hands over my heart. "Don't touch me."

  "Baby, you're hurting yourself," she soothed, reaching out to me again.

  I stood up and took several steps away from her. "You're just as bad as them, you know."

  She shook her head and walked towards me. "Mercy...."

  "You left me just like they did. I thought that you were going to be here for me," I said to her.

  "I'm right here, Mercy. I'll always be right here for you," she said.

  My mind raced as I thought about Jack's words and how similar they were. I began to pound at my head, hoping to push his words from my mind.

  Melia rushed to me and forced my hands to my sides. Her arms locked around me, forcing my arms to remain where they were. "Shhh," she consoled me, her breath breezing through my hair.

  My knees gave out and I sank to the floor. Melia fell with me, my head tucked against her stomach. I fisted her shirt in my hand as the sobs began. I wept as she held me. I felt Albertine's hand on my head. Penelope had wrapped her arms around us, her head resting against Melia's. Red was the last to join the huddle. She sat behind me. I felt her hands tugging at me, rubbing my back and re-adjusting my clothing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  The morning of Jack's funeral, the girls dressed up and left the house early. I sat in the kitchen, looking over the emails and photos that Jack and I had shared the past few months. I had spent the last two weeks mourning his loss, feeling a new emptiness in my life.

  "Are you okay?" asked Penelope from the doorway. She wore a black sheath dress, her antique pearls draped around her neck. She was removing her earrings as she stepped into the kitchen.

  I smiled, hoping to reassure her. "I'm okay. How was the service?"

  "It was closed casket, but otherwise lovely. We met Jack's parents, his brother. They really are a nice family. They asked about you." She sat across from me and placed her hands on the table, sliding them over to me.

  I placed my hands into hers, feeling the warmth flow from her body into mine. "I don't think I would have made it out of there alive. I would have been the strange woman weeping hysterically."

  She said nothing in response. She looked down but continued to hold my hands, her thumbs rubbing circles on my palms. She squeezed before releasing my hands, h
er back relaxing against the chair. "You would have loved it, Mercy."

  I didn't believe her. It would have been another little piece of me dying. I didn't have many left, so I was rather protective of them.

  Melia and Albertine entered the house and walked into the kitchen. Albertine approached me, with no trace of her beautiful smile today. She sat beside me, tucking her hands into a ball. She didn't look at me. I could feel her disappointment.

  "I'll make us some coffee," Melia said, walking to the sink to fill the pot with water. She wore a black church suit, with a fitted jacket and trousers, and she had pulled out the church hat today. It was black mesh with dark, cloth flowers around the rim. It was ugly and tacky, but it fit my Melia perfectly.

  "You should have been there, Mercy," Albertine said. She lifted her eyes, her lips drooping at the corners.

  Rubbing my palms down my thighs, I licked my lips. I could feel my throat constricting, but I fought back the tightness. I took deep breaths, knowing I was ignoring her comment. I didn't mean to be rude, but if I spoke, I would unravel.

  Melia walked to the table and placed her hand on the back of Albertine's chair. She glanced down at me and noticed my nervous movements under the table. "Hush now, Albie. Right now is not the time for one of your lectures."

  "I don't understand it. She cared for Jack. This was her time to say goodbye and show her respects to his family. She owed him that, and she'll come to regret it." Albertine pressed her lips together. She said what she felt needed to be said. I was growing used to her disapproval. It had flowed like waves ever since I told them I wasn't going to attend the funeral.

  "She'll have another opportunity to say goodbye," Penelope said. She was looking at Melia, the two of them sharing a look.

  "Did Carol go home?" I asked.

  "No. She and John stopped somewhere to pick up lunch. They'll be swinging by soon," Melia said.

  "Oh." I was still getting used to not having Red around.

  Melia went about pouring the coffee, setting a cup down in front of me. I lifted the mug, smelling the bitterness of the brew. "I really need this."

  "You need a shower," Melia said, dumping spoonfuls of sugar into her own coffee cup. Penelope held her mug in between her hands. Her gaze focused on the flowers outside of the window. Albertine glanced down into her mug as she swirled its contents.

  "I'll finish this coffee and I'll hop into the shower," I said, blowing at the steam. We sat there, coffee mugs in hand, saying nothing.

  It was the longest that I had been out of my bedroom. For the last several days, the girls had brought trays up to my room, sitting with me as I cried my eyes out. That day, I grew tired of the cramped space. I needed to venture out.

  "Thank you." They all looked up at me, not sure why I was thanking them. I smiled. "I've been moping around the house, acting as if my life was over because Jack's gone. I've been selfish, but you guys were there for me, all throughout. I just realize...I guess you can say, I had it all wrong. All this time, I thought Jack was the catalyst in my life. The spark I needed to pull me out of my misery, but that wasn't true. It was you guys. It's always been you. If you hadn't entered my life, I would never have given him the chance. And now that he's gone, I know I won't ever be alone again because I have you. Thank you."

  It was the moment I had been waiting for. I couldn't believe how much I had missed it. Albertine turned to me, that beautiful, welcoming smile on her face. She held my hand, squeezing it as I sipped my coffee. She chuckled, tears gathering in her eyes. "I know what you mean. When I left the Sisterhood, I never imagined that I would find new sisters, but I did."

  "I can't be bothered with this horseshit," Melia muttered. But her eyes were misty, and a smile hovered on her lips. She returned to the fridge, grabbing a carton of cream to pour into her coffee.

  Penelope dragged her gaze away from the table. She looked at each of us before she said, "Arthur wants to get back together."

  I set my mug down on the table with a loud clunk.

  Penelope shook her hand in my direction. "Don't you ladies worry; I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay."

  "You aren't going back to him?" Albertine asked.

  "No. We had our chance. I love him, and I'll always love him, but I don't need him in my life any longer," she said, a smile curling her lips. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply. She nodded as if re-affirming to herself that she was making the right decision. "I'm not leaving you guys, certainly not for Arthur."

  The front door swung open. Red entered the foyer carrying a bag. She was followed by Craft, her happy husband. "We brought salads!"

  "Salad is a side dish. I sure as Hell hope there is meat in there," I barked.

  Red staggered. Her lashes fluttered as she grew accustomed to seeing me again. "Mercy?"

  "Yeah."

  "You're back?"

  "I didn't know I was gone."

  "You weren't exactly here," she said coming to the table. She sat down, throwing her arm against the back of her chair. Craft stood at the island, his eyebrows puckered as he frowned. There were only five seats at the table. He was the odd man out.

  "Grab the stool," Red ordered, pointing behind him. His face brightened as he caught sight of the stool. He dragged it across the floor, making a loud screeching sound. He sat down on the stool, several inches above the rest of us. He tucked his hands between his knees and he looked at us with a dopey expression.

  "You forgot the salads," Red said after he was comfortable. He glared at her, but she raised her eyebrows and cocked her head back to the island. He stood, like a chastened boy, and walked back to the island. He set about assembling our lunches.

  "Mercy's right. I'd like meat," Melia said.

  I waited, looking at Craft. No perverted comments. I glanced at Red. She smiled. I guess she held the reins in the relationship.

  "You okay, doll?" she asked, concern in her eyes.

  I took her hand. "I'm peachy."

  "You missed a beautiful service," she said.

  "Just beautiful," Craft said. He carried over the salads and placed them in front of us.

  "We'll need something to drink, Johnny."

  He clapped his hands together, looking around the kitchen. We all watched as he fumbled through the cabinets, searching for glasses. It amused us to see this man invade our space. "Water? Wine?"

  "Water's good," I said.

  "Why didn't you go?" Red asked.

  I licked my lips. I dreaded this conversation, but I needed them to understand. "I just think they are a waste of time."

  "Did you have other plans?" Melia quipped. As she stirred her coffee, the spoon clanked against the rim. Penelope shuddered at the sound.

  "I hate being alone," I said. "I thought I enjoyed it, but I hated it. Despised the emptiness. Every funeral I've gone to has left me empty inside."

  "I don't think anyone likes funerals, Mercy," Penelope said.

  "They aren't all bad. The Irish are known for some grand affairs," Red said, contradicting Penelope for old times' sake.

  "I thought we were talking about me?" I asked.

  "We are," said Penelope.

  "Go on," Red said.

  "Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt anything."

  "C'mon, Mercy, go on," Red prodded.

  I waited, giving them a chance to say something. They all sat, waiting for me to continue. Even Craft sat quietly, chomping on his salad.

  "Ever since Moses died, I've been alone," I admitted.

  "What about Caitlyn?" Albertine piped in.

  "Yeah, she seems a right pest," Melia added.

  "For fuck's sakes," I said.

  "Everybody just shut up!" Craft barked, the Admiral making an appearance. Silence fell over the table. He nodded, pleased. "Go on, gal."

  The corners of my lips tugged as I fought a smile. "Well, if I may continue? I was saying that Moses's death was hard on me. All that I had was that man and this house. When he left, it was just me and this mausoleu
m."

  Penelope's mouth opened, but she said nothing, allowing me to continue.

  "You ever wonder why this house is so large?" The sorrow flowed through me; the emptiness yawned before me. "When we first built this house, we had planned to fill the rooms, your rooms, with children. Not long after finishing this house, I had my daughter."

  "I didn't know you had a child, Mercy," Albertine said.

  "I don't. I mean, not any longer. She's dead. That's what I mean."

  "I'm sorry," Albertine said, her eyes softening with empathy.

  "She was stillborn. The complications of her birth left me with a slim chance of having any children. We tried for many years, but no miracles ever happened. Anyway, this house needed to be filled and until you guys came along, the only thing that filled it was me and my memories." I lifted my glass of water and took several gulps, hoping that one of them would say something. They all sat there, watching me, expecting me to continue.

  "That's it."

  "Really?" Melia asked.

  "Yeah," I said.

  "I was expecting something a bit grander," she said.

  "Melia!" Penelope snapped.

  "What? I can't be the only one that wonders why she's so bitter," she said.

  "If you had lost your daughter and your husband, wouldn't you be bitter?" Penelope returned.

  "Hold on now, lady. I lost my daughter in Iraq and my husband just a few years ago. She's not the only one who has lost family," she said. Melia pulled her chair closer to me, her eyes locking on my face. "Do you know what your problem is? Oh, I bet you know already, but I'm going to make it plain. You don't know how to survive."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me. They all died, but you didn't know how to carry on after their death. It's like you were guilty for living. I'm not. I thank God every morning for giving me another day. It's not your fault you're still here, Mercy," she said. She sat back in her chair, pleased with her pronouncement.

  "Melia," Penelope said, reaching across the table.

  "Yes, Penny?"

  "Now that's horseshit," she said, slapping the table. She pointed at me. "Mercy, don't listen to her."

  "I'm right!" Melia sputtered.