Chapter Twenty Four

THE FIRST SECTION:

As soon as Coleman stepped out of the jailhouse he felt a bitter wind chill his bones. He took a look around him and at first thought that the world would be moving in slow motion and that everyone would be staring at him; condemning him for the worst of his sins. It did not necessarily delight him that his imagination did not hold true. Instead, he felt alone and walked down the street with his coat firmly wrapped around his chest by the strength of his hand on the lapel. Without picking up his head he listened to a street preacher shout out, “We are not in this alone if you only accept God and Christ as your savior!” An odd feeling of “bah” passed through his body as his heart told him that he stood no chance with God now or ever. To him, then, it was no use to even begin to try to relate to any higher power or level of spirituality. He was done for good and the sooner he began to accept it the better off he would be.

FOR FULL TEXT CLICK READ MORE BELOW

But soon even the thought of falling out from under God’s soft hands began to rattle his spirit. Not only had he lost his wife, but he had also lost his soul at the same time. There would be no time for forgiveness; his pale and sickly hand was all he could afford to focus on for it was all he had holding himself together. "I am not a man", he began to shout over and over again. Each repetition gathered a crowd, and each crowd stopped and stared at the man who was supposedly the future of Charlton’s business elite. But there were no questions of doubt passing through his ears at that moment. All he could think about was how he could have ever let the truly genuine slip under his nose and never notice its sweet scent of fulfillment that so many others could smell. The horror of losing a life was a feeling he never wanted to feel again now that he saw death walking down the path toward him. And no matter which direction he walked, the sight of death was ever inching nearer and was always directly in his line of way.

Coleman had been walking for hours, mindlessly through the streets. He had an entourage following him. Most followed out of ridicule, but a couple trailed from concern and one pursued with dutiful curiosity. The lonely man wandered through sections of town he would never have walked alone through. Whenever he walked through Marnie it was in the morning and evening rush hour crowd. It was never at night and never, ever alone. But his mindlessness took him not only down the main streets of Marnie, but through its narrow alleys as well. More than once the crowd following him had to fend off attackers. Coleman never noticed. Even when he passed the very warehouses that he had just sold to Richard, he kept his head buried in his chest and his eyes straight down at his shoe tips; his mouth muttering as quickly as his reputation soured across town. Finally he stopped and lifted his head. All the thinking of the world that he needed to do had suddenly ended and he looked around him to figure out where he was. To his surprise, he was standing in the courtyard just under the window of the mayor’s office. It looked different from the last time he was there. Then the flowers that surrounded the stone wall’s edge were in full bloom, and the small lawn that spread out from the door of the building to just over half way to the exterior entrance was green and well trimmed. But the courtyard seemed overgrown and untrimmed. The flower beds were muddy from the recent rain and patches of snow still rested in the shadowy corners. The bricks that formed the steps to the door were uneven from a difficult and snowy winter. And the table, the wooden table that suddenly widened his eyes was rotten from being left out during the winter. He stepped over to it and ran his hand across its coarse top. Little chunks of wood scraped off and stuck to his hand, which he gazed at before brushing them off.

“It needs work I know,” Richard said as he stepped into the courtyard. “I’ve been meaning to put it inside, but I just never found the time this winter.”

Coleman was surprised to see his father-in-law because he did not hear him come outside. He stared at Richard blankly.

“What is this crowd you have brought with you Coleman?” Richard said pointing to the group of people who had been following him across town. Coleman turned around and noticed for the first time the group that had watched his every step and heard his every word for the past several hours. He looked back at Richard with a look on his face that clearly stated he had no clue who they were or why they were there. Richard flicked his had toward the crowd and they dispersed without delay. A large murmur gathered steam but slowly faded away as the common traffic noise took its place.

“Do you know about this table Richard?” Coleman asked.

Richard shook his head and asked, “No, other than the fact that it is an old table that was built for me by a man who worked for me many years ago. He lived in Marnie. Good worker but he died young, too young. Fifty-six I think. That was a long time ago.”

Coleman again rubbed his hand along the top of the table. More chunks came off. He sat down and rested his arms on it and a stream of water ran toward his forearm when the tabled tilted under his weight. “I’d like to take this home with me if I can Richard,” he said without looking up. “It is a special piece for me. I’d like to finish it up.”

“I don’t mind,” Richard replied. “Take it home with you now if you like. It’s yours. Is your carriage around the corner? I did not see you ride up.”

“I didn’t ride. I walked,” Coleman said. “Is it heavy?”

“I think so,” Richard said. “It has been out all winter. Probably full of water. I doubt it will make much of a table anymore Coleman. Are you sure that you want to take it home?”

“Yes,” he answered, “it was where I asked Emily to marry me. It is also where I saw her for the first time as your daughter. Right here. Well, the table was over there then, on the other side of the courtyard, but she was sitting on this side of the table just as I am. I saw her from your office, upstairs. We were working on the final pier project, and she was down here reading in the sun. I remember being shocked when my father whispered in my ear that she was your daughter. Of all the years that I had lived here, worked with you and socialized with you, I never knew that Emily was your daughter. It amazed me.”

Richard smiled, “Yes that is surprising. But maybe not entirely. She was not one to socialize much. She really surprised me when she latched on to you the way she did. She had never done that before.”

Coleman did not respond. Instead he sat quietly and smiled, gazing off into space before a terribly frown overtook his joy. “When is the funeral Richard? Have you put the details out there yet?”

“I have,” Richard answered. “I sent them to your house this morning. I am sorry that you did not get them.”

“I have been away all day,” Coleman replied. “I am sure they will be there when arrive at home.”

Richard looked at Coleman’s wretched face and asked, “Are you alright Coleman? You look terrible.”

“I’m fine,” Coleman said as he stood up. “Can you send this over to my place as well? By tonight?”

“I can,” Richard said. “If I remember.”

“Never mind then,” Coleman snapped, “I will send someone over to get it right away.” He then walked out of the courtyard without saying goodbye.