Free Drowning in the East River by Kimberly Pierce

repressed memories flooded back into his head. David ran a hand through his hair, and exhaled sharply. Glancing back up at the Father, he stood up. "My mother is in a better place. My brother is in a better place. Jessica is in a better place. How do you know they're in a better place, Father? Have you been there?”
     
    "You have to have faith in The Lord," the Father said, his voice adopting the soothing tone he used in his sermons.
     
    "The Holy Father wanted Jessica with him," Anna said, walking over to the Father's side. She was white knuckling her rosary beads as if they were the literal source of her strength. Her thumb and fore finger rolled and squeezed the tiny cross at the end of the strand. "We can take comfort in that." She looked up at the Father with a look of respect and admiration reserved for Sunday school pupils.
     
    "Well stated, Anna." The father chimed in. He placed a gentle hand on her forearm as he focused his attention back to David. "Fall back on your faith. It's all we have at times. There's no shame in that.”
     
    David put his hand out, jumping in awkwardly. "What kind of honest, loving God would take a mother away from her son?" He thought for a moment, glancing back at Thomas. "If he's such a kind and loving god, why would he put anyone through this? Thomas is two years old….”
     
    The look on Anna's face suggested she'd just been slapped in the face. "How dare you question the Father!" A stunned scoff escaped from her throat as she stared at him, her eyes frozen in horror at his blasphemy. "What on Earth has gotten into you, David?”
     
    "I'm sure the boy's just speaking out of grief," the Father said, once again turning to Anna. He spoke quickly, not allowing David a chance to reply. "His family's been members of my parish for about as long as the Conlon's have. It was such a shame about what happened to your father, David.”
     
    "Thank you, Father." David stared at the drink clasped in his hands. He could feel the muscles in his back quivering with tension. Spots floated lazily through his vision.
     
    Thomas started crying from his crib. The high-pitched wailing echoed through the tiny apartment.
     
    "How should I tell my son that his mother isn't coming back? How am I supposed to tell him that she bled to death? He's convinced that Jessica didn't love him anymore." David paused for a moment, biting his lip. His voice cracked as he continued. "Her last words to me were that she loved him, and I haven't the slightest idea how to tell him that.”
     
    "The child knows," Father Carlson said, looking toward the crib. A pained grimace flashed over his face as he turned back to David. He folded his hands peacefully in front of him. "The child will come to learn that his mother is watching over him from heaven.”
     
    David could feel all the eyes in the apartment boring into the back of his head. They were waiting for him to do something, expecting him to crack under the tragic circumstances. There was a pressure in the glances, daring him to do the right thing by his son, to not make a mistake and make things even worse.
     
    "Father..." David began.
     
    "Aren't you going to go to him?"Anna cut in, her voice sharp. Thomas was standing up, frantically rattling the bars, trying to break his way to freedom. Turning back to David, Anna raised a critical eyebrow. "Are you just going to let the child cry all night?”
     
    Outside the living room window, a drizzle had settled in over Manhattan. The background of the apartment seemed to fade into the fog, as David lost himself in the gloomy atmosphere outside the window.
     
    "Shouldn't you tend to your son?" Anna asked again, snapping David out of his haze.
     
    "What?" David asked, wiping his eyes as he shifted his glance back to Anna.
     
    "The baby," Anna said, putting emphasis on every syllable. She leaned forward at the waist, her hands on her hips. "Are you going to let the child cry all night?”
     
    Getting to his feet, David