Jonathan's Hope

by Hirschi, Hans M.

  Inside the room where the actual visit would take place was a small table and two chairs. Behind him, the door closed and locked. On the other side of the room was another door, undoubtedly the one leading to the prison tract. The door from which his father would emerge.

  He could hear the footsteps approach, more than one person walking towards the door. He heard keys go into the lock and turning then the door opened before he saw the motion. In came a guard and behind him his father. In the corridor, a second guard stood waiting. The guard led Jonathan’s father to the table where he sat down quietly. The guard stood back by the door and waited, cautioning, “Fifteen minutes, guys. Fifteen minutes.”

  He looked old. Unshaved, pale, bloodshot eyes, hair unkempt, in the prison jumpsuit. So completely unlike the three piece suit, neatly shaved face and the perfectly combed hair Jonathan had been used to throughout his childhood. Before him sat a man he recognized, but didn’t know.

  “Hello, son,” he started, looking at Jonathan. “Thank you for coming by.”

  Jonathan looked at this man, looked him in the eyes, trying to discern any redeeming qualities, anything that might lead him to want to forgive him for all the things he had done to him and his mother. He saw nothing except an odd expression on his face, but he couldn’t decipher it, couldn’t say what it was.

  “I’m glad you came, son. This means a lot to me. I wanted, I needed to say this to you, away from everyone else, because I was hoping you would understand. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I have done to you and your mother. I love you.” He paused, taking a deep breath, looking to the table, as if he was pondering what to say next.

  “I understand that you’ll never be able to forgive me for what I’ve done, but please understand that I never stopped loving you. You were the most precious gift that was ever given to me.”

  He started crying at these last words, dropping his head into his cuffed hands. Jonathan was momentarily at a loss for words, but then he caught himself, and asked, “Why, dad? Why?”

  His father didn’t reply. Instead, he got up and walked to the door, and the guard let him out.

  The meeting was over, and it hadn’t been at all what Jonathan had expected. There was no hatred, no urge to get up and strangle his tormentor, none of that. His father had not tried to reassert his control either, unable, broken as he was. Yet, as Jonathan looked back, replaying the encounter before his inner eyes, there was a different man from the one he had grown up with. His face looked so different from what he saw all those years at home. Though, on the outside, the only thing changing over the years were the added wrinkles here or there and the graying temples. Yet today, this face, these eyes, they looked so different. Jonathan tried to think of what they reminded him of, but he couldn’t find the word.

  He got up and rejoined Dan and the lawyers back in the visitor’s lounge. No, that was not the meeting he had expected. Not at all. He still didn’t know why. It was just as Dennis had predicted. Maybe his father didn’t know either.

  The next morning, Jonathan woke to his cell phone buzzing. It was Parker.

  “Son, I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, but your father is dead.”

  Chapter 21

  “HE HUNG HIMSELF in his cell last night. Since he wasn’t a convicted criminal but only in custody, they’re afforded more comforts, if you will. Sadly, some of the inmates use those comforts, like sheets, to do stupid things. No one saw this coming. Your father was not under supervision for being suicidal. I’m sorry, son. I know you don’t need another loss at this stage, and I’m sorry you never got the answers you were looking for.” Parker stopped, realizing he had just said too much. “Sorry, Dennis told me about your conversation the other night. Is Daniel up?”

  “No, he’s still asleep. I’m okay, Parker. I really am. I almost expected him to do something like this. I had the weirdest feeling about it all day yesterday. It was as if he only wanted to say goodbye, you know? His face, when he saw me, it was so peaceful, so...” Jonathan was still trying to find the right word. Benevolent, that’s it.

  “He looked so at peace with himself, so benevolent, it was eerie. I’ve never seen that expression on him before. It took me a day to put a word on it.”

  “Something else, son. He left you a note. The police will bring it by your house later today. You may want to brace yourself, though. It could be the ‘why’ you’ve been looking for... Make sure Dan’s nearby.” He hung up, leaving Jonathan alone with his thoughts.

  Next to him, Dan was still asleep. Jonathan turned over, looking at the man next to him. Should I wake him? Should I just let him sleep? He was thinking about the strange sensation of being told that his father had killed himself, and the fact that it had neither surprised nor shocked him. Or maybe, this is what being in shock is all about? Jonathan felt absolutely nothing.

  He had absorbed the news, taken it in, but what did he feel? He climbed out of bed, trying to be as quiet about it as possible. He didn’t want to wake Dan. All the fuss over the past weeks were taking a toll on his man, leaving him strained and exhausted. Jonathan walked out to the kitchen, needing some of his brew, his coffee, to start his day. He needed to think.

  Is this what it means to suffer from sensory overload? Am I losing my mind? So much has happened to me in these past months. I lost myself, found a loving partner, lost my mom, and now my father. Is it just too much to process, have I no feelings left? Why am I not upset at his death? Why am I not crying? Or laughing? Why am I not feeling anything?

  His brooding didn’t provide any answers. Instead, he turned on his laptop, catching up with the latest news, drawn to it like the proverbial fly. Naturally, the news of his father’s death was on the front page of every paper.

  Prominent city attorney accused of abusing son and wife, found dead in holding cell.

  Well, he wasn’t that prominent, Jonathan thought, but I guess it makes for a better headline. He tried to read the article, but was interrupted by the buzzer from the intercom.

  “Mr. Bates?” the bell man downstairs was calling. “There are two police officers here to see you. May I send them up?”

  “Sure. I’ve been expecting them. Thanks, Pete.”

  He hung up the phone and steeled himself for what was to come. He knew he had a couple of minutes before the doorbell to their condo would ring, delivering his father’s final words. With it, would he find hope, despair, knowledge, closure?

  Dan walked into the kitchen, coming up behind Jonathan, hugging him, kissing his neck. “Morning, beautiful. What’s up?”

  “My dad hung himself in his cell last night,” Jonathan responded, a matter of fact statement that sent cold shivers down Dan’s back.

  “He what?” Dan yelled, clearly in shock. He grabbed Jonathan and held him so tight it left him breathless for a second or two. “Oh, baby, are you okay? I’m so sorry, so sorry...” he continued, kissing Jonathan’s forehead, rocking him in his arms, desperate to console him.

  “Dan,” Jonathan said, “air. I can’t breathe...” Immediately, Dan released his hard grip, but did not let go completely. “Thanks, but I’m fine, really. The police are on their way up with his farewell note. Parker said it might contain some answers...” Jonathan trailed, his voice still very cool, too cool for Dan’s comfort. “How are you holding up, Jon?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

  “Fine, for now. You know, it’s odd. I don’t feel anything really. I’ve lost both my parents in the last four months, and I feel empty. No grief, no relief, nothing,” Jonathan said. “I’m not sure this makes sense.”

  “It does in a way.” Dan looked worried. “Give it time. When you’re ready, you’ll be able to grieve your parents, just don’t rush it.” The doorbell rang, and Jonathan got out of Dan’s arms to answer it with Dan following him.

  “Mr. Bates?” one of the officers asked. “My deepest condolences for your loss. My colleague and I, uh, we have something for you. It seems your father left you a letter. It was lying
on the desk in his cell but he had no envelope to put it in. The prison warden read it, standard procedure, that’s how we knew it was for you...” The officer didn’t finish his sentence, he’d said enough. He handed Jonathan a white envelope with the seal of the prison on it. Jonathan took the letter and thanked the officers for bringing it by. Dan stood right behind him, ready, just in case. Jonathan felt strong, he felt oddly strong.

  The officers left and the two lovers returned to the kitchen. Jonathan held the letter in his hand as if it were a priceless jewel. “Well?” Dan asked. “Are you going to read it? Do you want me to read it to you?”

  Carefully, Jonathan opened the envelope and pulled out the note, written on a small piece of paper. He read it out loud.

  Son,

  I’ve made so many mistakes in my life that there is no atonement for me, no hope. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I hurt your mother. I only hope that someday you’ll be able to forgive me.

  I know I have no right to ask, but would you consider doing your father a favor? Please visit the grave of Rick Johnsson, the first person ever to be hurt because of me. Leave a red rose on his grave and tell him I never forgot.

  Thank you,

  Dad

  The note contained the address of a graveyard in a city out west, where Jonathan’s dad had once studied. He had never spoken much about college, just that he’d graduated from that particular college in that town.

  No answers, just more questions...

  Jonathan handed the note to Dan, who read it again and again. It made no sense.

  “I’m sorry, Jon,” he finally said. Jonathan was standing at one of the large windows overlooking the central business district, the hustle and bustle of life going on below them, far away from their own chaos.

  “Don’t worry, Dan. I’ll be fine. I just hope that we’ll see the end of this, sooner rather than later. I want to get back to building our life, not living other people’s.” Jonathan’s voice was suddenly filled with sadness. Dan hugged him tenderly from behind, wrapping his arms around the man that had rocked every single foundation of his life. He nuzzled his nose through Jon’s long hair, breathing in the scent that so quickly had become a part of his being. He never wanted to miss that scent again, no matter what.

  “Did Parker say anything else?” Dan asked, covering Jonathan’s neck and shoulders with tender pecks. “No, not really, but maybe we should go over there later today. Find out what’s next? Maybe he can help us track this Rick Johnsson?”

  “I can do that,” Dan replied. “After all, why would you be with a reporter otherwise?” He chuckled, pulling him into an even closer embrace. Jonathan laughed for the first time that day, and Dan took that as a good sign, allowing his hands to trail down Jonathan’s t-shirt to his sweat pants. Good sign, he thought to himself, as he felt Jonathan’s erection. He immediately dragged his man back to bed for some much needed love making.

  After breakfast, they called Parker and made an appointment for that afternoon. Dan took the initiative and started looking for some information about the enigmatic Rick Johnsson. Sadly, his search came up empty. There was nothing to be found online, so they would just have to fly out there and learn on site. Dan was sure there would be college records and maybe something in a local newspaper. There would even be microfilms or maybe old papers that might reveal clues as to what might have happened and how Jonathan’s dad was involved.

  Over lunch, they talked about a service for Jonathan’s father once the body was released to them. Dan had no doubt that this might take a while, given the trial and the circumstance of his death. Jonathan wanted to make sure that his father was buried next to his mom. Despite what he had done to her, he knew she loved her husband, and would have wanted him buried next to her, if possible. It all seemed a bit odd to Jonathan. Five months ago, his parents had all but condemned him to death when they abandoned him in the forest. Now, he was planning the burial of his second parent.

  Jonathan thought of Mary, and the other people he had known in school and wondered just how they would react to such news. How they would have dealt with such blows.

  Mary.

  Jonathan thought about Mary often. He thought about contacting her since the second Dan gave him his laptop and he had gotten online. But something had stopped him, and in the end, he just never got around to it. Even now, four months later, he still hadn’t contacted his best friend. Maybe it’s time...

  Chapter 22

  PARKER WAS UNUSUALLY somber that afternoon when Dan and Jonathan walked into his office. “Hey, guys,” he said, walking up to greet them. They exchanged the friendly hugs that had become so familiar between them in the months since their first meeting.

  They all sat down on the couch in the corner of Parker’s large office. His assistant came in with coffee and tea. “So, I just got off the phone with the DA. The trial has been cancelled. With your father dead, there is no point in going on with it. Given his written confession, it would have been a formality anyway. From what I gathered from his lawyer, he hadn’t been interested in any plea bargain and he would’ve been looking at fifteen to twenty years. I also briefly spoke to your grandparents this morning. They are still planning to come to town to help you with the funeral preparations. Have you given any thought to that? I don’t want to scare you, but I got the distinct impression that your grandmother has some very specific ideas.”

  Jonathan looked up at Parker. “Such as?”

  “Well,” their older friend continued, “apparently she wants to take the body back to their home town and bury him there.”

  “Can they do that?” Jonathan asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t seen any last will, and this is a highly unusual situation. With both parents deceased, an adult child and the grandparents still alive, there really is no legal precedent here. I’ll need to speak to your father’s lawyer, his old firm, see if there is a will. There is a certain likelihood for that, particularly given the fact that he was a lawyer himself. But if there is nothing, I would strongly suggest that you try and find common ground with your grandparents. If nothing else, at least consider a future relationship with your grandparents.”

  Dan cut in. “Well, Parker, we had been hoping for a small ceremony here, just the immediate family, to avoid the press, and to bury him next to his wife.”

  “Let me see what I can find out first, okay, guys?” Parker sighed. “We’ll need to be patient. Jonathan, your grandparents arrive tomorrow morning on the first flight in. Do you want me to arrange a pick-up? Accommodations? I take it you haven’t seen them in a while?”

  Jonathan gave Dan a pleading look, realizing that the situation was about to spiral out of control. That his life was once again going to take a turn for the unexpected. Dan was his only focal point in the room. “You know what, Parker, that’s very kind of you, but they’re family. We’ll take care of it, right, Jon?” Dan said, smiling, trying to reassure Jonathan that he would keep things under control.

  The phone was ringing and Parker picked it up. Jonathan and Dan could hear that he was talking to another lawyer, the lingo and the infliction in Parker’s voice so very different than when he was speaking to his friends. When he hung up, he looked over at his friends, troubled. “That was odd. Does Trinity College ring a bell with you guys?” Jonathan paled hearing the name of the college where his father had graduated. Noting the distress in Jon’s face, Dan replied. “Kind of. I first heard about it this morning. Apparently Jon’s dad graduated from their law school. He even knows someone who is buried in the town there. In his note, he asked Jonathan to visit that guy’s grave.”

  “Rick Johnsson?” Parker asked evenly. Jonathan was barely able to sit still. “How do you know that name?” he asked.

  “That was your dad’s former employer on the phone. Seems there is a will. Unbeknownst that his parents were still alive, they called me, knowing I represent you. Apparently, your father left very detailed instructions about his burial. The good t
hing is you won’t have to worry about dealing with your grandparents. However, he did specifically request not to be buried here in town, but rather next to this Rick Johnsson. I don’t know what to make of this.”

  Dan interjected, “Well, I tried to find that guy this morning, but found no trace. I guess we’ll just have to go out there, or maybe I’ll make a call to the local newspaper, see what I can dig up.”

  Parker nodded slightly. “Jonathan, I know this is not easy for you, but uh, have you ever noticed anything indicating that your father may have been gay? I just don’t know how else this makes any sense.”

  Jonathan sat quietly on the couch, contemplating the news that had been dispensed. The air had become stiff and he found it hard to breathe. “Guys, I need to get some fresh air. I need to think. I, uh, Dan, please don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid. I just really need to get some air, walk, okay? I’ve got my phone with me, so you can text me. I’ll see you tonight...” Jonathan got up and left the office without waiting for Dan to reply.

  Dan was worried, but Parker told him to leave him be. “Dan, you can’t protect him all the time. He will be fine, trust him. Why don’t we try to help Jonathan by finding out what we can about this Rick Johnsson, shall we?” Parker put his hand on Dan’s shoulder, kneading it gently. “He just needs to get his thoughts straightened out, okay?”

  Dan nodded. Jonathan had come so far in those past months, their relationship had grown so much, and Jon said that he’d be fine, he’d be back. He just needed some time alone to think. I can give him that space. I’ll be fine.

  Jonathan left the building almost running, desperate for fresh air. He started walking through the streets of the city, that place to which he’d re-familiarized himself over the past months. Once his home, it was now just a place he knew well, but didn’t really feel he belonged in.