Absolution(136)

A shape, covered in a pale sheet, at the far end of the garage caught his eye. His heart stopped.

It couldn’t be. Could it?

Even though his mind told him it was impossible, he found himself gravitating towards it just to be sure. He reached out and pulled the sheet away, doubling it back over itself to reveal the gleaming black body of his Ducati motorcycle. He backed away from it slowly, as if it were some kind of hologram that might disappear if he blinked.

“Jack?”

Callum’s voice in the doorway startled him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bike.

“I… I don’t understand,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Did you know about this?”

“Know about what?”

He dragged himself away from the bike and turned to Callum. Where to begin?

He cleared his throat. “I needed money, a couple of years back, and I asked him to sell it for me – he said he did. He sold it, sent me the money.”

Callum’s gaze flew from Jack to the bike and back again. “Then what the hell is it still doing here?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” Jack ran a hand through his hair, frowning at the bike. “I don’t understand, why did he say he sold it if he didn’t?”

Callum left the doorway and leant against the car, folding his arms. “Maybe he wanted you to have the bike and the money?”

That sounded like his father, alright. He leant back against the car beside Callum, deflated.

“You two spent a lot of time on that bike. Maybe he just wanted to make sure it would be waiting for you when you came home?”

The hollow ache in Jack’s chest intensified.

“He never gave up on you.”

Jack stared at the bike, sleek black body gleaming under the bright white light. The plan had been for him and Ally to take a cross-country trip, opening their eyes to the world outside of this town. The irony of it.

Be careful what you wish for.

“I’ll sell it.”

“Like hell!”

“I’ll sell it and pay you back for the loan.”

“Think again, dude,” Callum grunted. “Tom obviously wanted you to have it. He knew you loved it, that’s why he kept it. You can’t just get rid of it, that’s like insulting his memory.”

Jack’s heart seized, and he shook his head. “The trip across country – that was our dream, mine and hers.”

“So find another dream.”

He made a good point. Standing up straight, he walked over to the bike and pulled the sheet the rest of the way off, dropping it onto the garage floor. He ran his hand over the glossy paint.

It was like a beacon – a message from beyond the grave. His father hadn’t given up on him. Somehow he knew that one day, he would do the right thing.



Barney’s was busy. All the pool tables were taken and music blared out of the jukebox, even though it was barely five o’clock. Jack watched absentmindedly as Harry took order after order, the bar humming with the promise of the night ahead.

By contrast, their corner table was sombre, removed from the surrounding melee. A black cloud hung over them, heavy with grief. The lack of animated conversation and hijinks set them apart from the other tables.

There was a bottle of whisky in the centre of the table, a full glass beside it.

“For Tom,” Callum had said solemnly, setting the bottle down next to it.

Maggie had arranged for the beautiful wreath that they had lain on his father’s grave barely an hour earlier. They had all insisted that he have the honour of placing it himself, and it had taken all he had in him to do so. It felt final, like he had closed a chapter in his life. The disconcerting part was that he didn’t feel ready to say goodbye just yet. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for that.

Before long, one by one, they began to make their way home. Maggie left first, her eyes still red-rimmed as she hugged them all goodbye. Jane followed not long after. Jack squirmed in his chair, his ribs still tender as he tried to get comfortable. He glanced over at Ally. She gave him a half-hearted smile that he saw right through.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said over the music, indicating the door.

She nodded, reaching for her crutches as he stood up. He stretched, easing his cramped body, then put his hand on Callum’s shoulder, leaning down again. “You wanna blow this popsicle stand?”