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[Vignette 2/2011] Former Life, Former Love (Gabriel)


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An Apartment Building near Freedom College

February 18th, 2011

Carson Keefe hung up the phone, slowly setting it on the cradle. His expression was a combination of thoughtfulness and traces of sadness.

His mother had called and reported that Sarah O'Connor was marrying Brian McPhilips in three weeks. They were happy, and totally smitten with each other. Bevin Keefe, knowing how easily Carson could travel, had asked if he'd wanted to attend. He'd said he couldn't, that between teaching and his hero responsibilities, he just didn't have the time.

He hoped God would forgive him in time for that lie. After all, he'd made time for Stesha and Derrick's wedding. Granted, Sarah O'Connor hadn't saved his life after a pack of super-ghouls nearly gutted him, but wasn't it the principle of the thing? He'd certainly known Sarah longer and better.

“Bloody hell. Too scared to make it to my ex-girlfriend's wedding? Some mighty hero I am...”

He walked over to his radio, turning it on to one of his presets before going to fix himself something to drink. He needed to sit back and think things over a bit. He gave a morbid chuckle when he heard the DJ start the next song.

[groove]23394600[/groove]

He sat down, the steaming cup of Irish Coffee in his hands going almost forgotten as he delved into memory lane. Only his occasional sip showed he remembered it was even there.


January, 2009

“Think about it, Sarah! I know there's openings here, but I've done the research! Freedom College needs more people willing to help! Plus, I've found out they have mentoring opportunities. And you, you've got a business degree. There are so many companies in that city it's almost absurd! There's so much both of us could do!”

“No, Carson. I'm sorry, but no. I'm not telling you to stay; I can tell this is something you believe in. I can't stand in the way of that. But I won't go to America. I love it too much here in Ireland, and I just don't think I could stand living over there. It's too different. And what if I can't find work, then what? Who will I live with? Have you convinced anyone else to go over there? Or were you only going to ask me, since I'm your girlfriend?”

“I was going to start by asking you, but yes, I was going to ask the others. I'm sure that-”

“No. I talked with some of the others. No one else wants to go. I'm sorry, Carson. This is just the road life takes us down. I'm sure you'll be back occasionally to visit your parents, and maybe us. But...I think it's best that we end things now. You've still got time before you move. This will let us both recover.”

She turned to leave, and Carson stretched out his right hand, as if to grasp her and hold her in place.

“Sarah! Please! I wanted to ask-”

“Don't you finish that sentence, Carson Finbar Keefe. It won't change anything, but saying it out loud will just hurt us more. Better you just forget about us.”

Before he could speak, she ran off into the lengthening shadows of the evening, her feet leaving tracks in the light snow on the ground. Carson was left standing there, arm outstretched, even as his left hand had a death grip on the small velvet box.

“I...I would have told you, Sarah. My greatest secret, I would have shared with you...”

Tears running down his face, his arm dropping to his side. Slowly, he turned and walked home.


Present Day

Somehow, his cup was empty, and the radio was on some happy song about living like a cowboy or something. Carson walked over, turned the radio off, put his cup in the sink, and walked over to the small patio ledge of his apartment. It was a clear evening, with temperatures being at least tolerable. He stood there, watching the sunset, silent tears running down his face.

'I'm a hero, a teacher, and a mentor...I do good things and help people...But what's my reward? A silly personal auction? Pats on the back? Who cares about money...Lord, I just want someone to share this with. You said it is not good for Man to be alone...yet here I am, alone!'

The silence of the night was his only answer as he closed his eyes, walking inside and shutting the door. He needed to patrol in an hour or so; best to get the crying done now. Wouldn't do to let the hardened criminals see him cry.

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