The Incident by K. E. Ward - HTML preview

EPILOGUE

Mark and Meg went to see Cory's grave together on a cold, wintry January day.  The sky was a dull blue, a perfect match for their somber mood.

Of course, they knew that Cory was not there; it was only the resting place of his outer shell, his earthly body.  The real Cory was soaring with the angels, of that they were certain.

Mark picked her up at her front door, where she had been waiting no more than five mintues.  He was wearing a blue suit with a striped tie and he looked perfectly groomed for the occasion.  Meg looked down at her purple dress and when she looked up, Mark was smiling at her.

"The dress is fine," he said, and held out his arm for her, as though they were going to a prom.

And so he escorted her to Eternity Hills, the cemetery where Cory was buried eight years ago.  As they approached, the wrought-iron gate in front with the gargoyles sitting on top was unmistakably that of the place in question.

Mark found a parking space, and together they walked towards the grounds.

Meg had not been there in two years; not since her father had insisted they celebrate Cory's fifteenth birthday by paying him a visit.  Mark, she knew, had never been there.  Not because he didn't want to, but because he would have felt unwelcome.

Once they had found the appropriate place, Meg placed her bouquet of white carnations in front of the headstone which read:

Corin Andrew Mitchell

1973-1982

That was all.  No epitaph; simply a name and dates.

She rose from her feet, and after a meaningful silence, she turned her head to Mark.  He was praying.  She wondered what he was praying about, and instead of asking him, she let him pray.

Following suit, she said a prayer herself:

Dear God, thank you for this opportunity to share my Cory with Mark.  Please keep my brother safe.

A long time passed.  "Are you ready to go?" Meg asked, gently tugging at Mark's sleeve.

He opened his eyes and nodded, reluctantly.  The visit seemed to mean a great deal to him.

They wove their way through the myriad of headstones, markers, and sarcophaguses.  While Meg was getting into the car, she noticed that there was a tear in Mark's eye.

"Are you alright?" she asked, once they had started driving.  She had not expected him to become so choked up during the visit to the cemetery.  A week ago, when they had agreed to go together, Meg had thought it would just be a quick visit.

"Saying good-bye, I suppose," he said.

She closed her eyes and nodded knowingly.  "It can take a person a long time before he or she is ready to say good-bye to a loved one."

But he shook his head.  "Not to Cory," he said.  "I've already done that."

She wrinkled her brow, surprised and perplexed.  "Then to whom?"

He looked over at her.  "I'm saying good-bye to my past.  All of my friends are gone, my life is different now, and I'm making a new beginning."

She looked at him, and felt the strangest sense of sadness in that moment as they neared her house.

Before she got out, she leaned over and kissed him.  "Now remember what I said," she told him.  "What happened with you and Cory doesn't matter to me; it never did.  I love you for the person that you are, and always could be, and will be.  I love you for you, and no accident could ever change that."

He caught her lips in a last kiss and said, "I know, and that's why I love you so much."

They were very close; their mouths almost touched.  Realizing that her breath was deepening and her pulse was quickening with desire, Meg turned and said hastily, "I'd better go."

He smiled understandingly at her and nodded.

It wasn't like nothing was ever going to happen between them again.  It was just the wrong time and place.  She got out of the car, nervously smiling at him.

He waved as she headed for her front door.

As she turned to watch him drive off, she saw a grown teenager with blond hair sitting in the passenger's seat with Mark.

She sucked in a breath, covering her mouth with a shaky hand.

Cory!  Cory!

But they had driven off.

They had gone.

The End.