Samantha's Smile

A loud metal clunk startles Justin, and as he reflexively opens his eyes the most blinding hot white light shines through. He closes his eyes immediately and rubs them furiously. It is more than slightly painful. He can faintly hear the bustle of pedestrians passing him, and maybe even the sound of snow geese in the distance. The ambient noise gradually becomes more distinct as his hearing seems to be returning. He tries to squint and can tell that he is outdoors on a sidewalk, although he cannot spot any recognizable landmarks. Everything is still just large dark objects some distance away.

He takes some stumbling steps forward along the walkway, bumping into other passersby along the way. Looking down, placing one foot in front of the other, Justin continues his way staggering along. His vision starts to clear noticeably, and the sky is no longer nearly as bright as before. He stops suddenly, as he realizes the Salisbury Cathedral looms just above him. The dramatic flying buttresses, ornate stained glass, and recently added tower form one of the most familiar sights in town. Justin stands at the west front doors, which explains the congestion surrounding him. He mentally plots his course home, which should only be seven kilometers away. It occurs to Justin at this moment that, although he knows where he is, he does not really know why he is there.

An important clue could be close at hand. Justin takes in the details around him: the cathedral’s west front doors, the busy crowd, the winter sun - and the metal clunk he first heard. What direction had he just come from? Is there anyone in this crowd that would recognize him? He stands motionless for a beat, panic starting to creep up on him. The cathedral, also a moral compass for the city, may help provide some much needed answers.

Justin passes beneath the Consecration Cross just above the doors, and enters the long nave within the cathedral. A woman flashes Justin a smile of familiarity.

"Hello, Mr. Younger. Are you here to see the Archdeacon again?”
Justin raises an eyebrow, “I am not sure if I’ll need to. Um... by chance do you have the time though?”
The woman looks at him quizzically, “It is now probably about 4:30. You sure seem obsessed with time lately. Are you alright?"
In his mind's eye, Justin sees a drop of blood. Startled, he takes a sharp breath, and then realizes the woman is still looking at him, waiting for an answer.
"I think I'll have seat for a moment. Thank you."

A drop of blood. It was falling to the floor. He saw it as plain as the people he now sits with. A drop of blood. A gentleman seats himself beside Justin, again with that smile of familiarity.

"Good afternoon Mr. Younger. I was not expecting to see you here so soon. You haven't gone home yet?"
"No." Justin responds, still not knowing with whom he's speaking. "Do I know you?"
The man continues, "I am Archdeacon Williams. I guess you have forgotten the last time we met. I’m not too surprised though. I was expecting you to return.” The Archdeacon looks around at the people walking amongst the aisles. “There are many people here on a Tuesday afternoon. Most, I think, have something troubling on their minds. Do you feel like something is bothering you?"
Justin sits silently. Archdeacon Williams rubs his chin in thought for a moment, "Perhaps we'd better speak outdoors. Would you come with me?"
Feeling somewhat irritated by the whole situation, Justin flatly refuses, "No, I'm not going with you." His voice begins to rise in anger, "I want to know what's going on here. Why is the Archdeacon expecting my visit, and why did I even come in here?" Justin gets up to exit and notices for the first time that others are starting to take notice of the scene. Archdeacon Williams puts his hand on Justin's chest, stopping him. He talks just low enough for Justin to hear, "You once mentioned a drop of blood. Does that seem familiar to you at all?"

Justin freezes. A drop of blood falling to the floor. It seems to fall forever.

Justin follows the Archdeacon outside. Walking along the pathway, Justin rubs his fingers together for warmth. Archdeacon Williams senses his discomfort, "I apologize about the chill, but I think you’ll find the fresh winter air will release some of your stress. Besides, it’s a shame to waste such a pleasant day. Please tell me about your day so far."
Justin lets out a sigh, "Well, I don't recall much of anything about today actually. I more or less walked into the cathedral out of confusion. Then..." he lets the statement trail off.
"The drop of blood again?" the Archdeacon fills in. "You've told me about this before. It seems to be a persistent memory that we need to explore."
Archdeacon Williams takes out a small sketch pad and pencil. On the open page is a half-completed drawing of a young woman beside a doorway.
"When was I last here?" Justin asks.
"Well, before I answer that, can you tell me what you remember about your sister?"
Justin ponders this for a moment, "Samantha lives on the other side of town. We had brunch just yesterday." He thinks a little harder, realizing that he can't remember anything past visiting her for brunch. After waiting a few seconds, Archdeacon Williams interrupts Justin's thoughts, "It still amazes me, this creation of our lord, the human mind. The mind can, for its own protection, choose to filter thoughts or memories. Yet the heart and soul still remember..."
Justin hears these words as if they were an echo, reverberating through the air. The words bounce off the trees, shaking loose the snow. They rattle in his ears and flow toward the back of his mind, and fall into an abyss. A drop of blood falling… falling forever.

In another time, in another place, the summer breeze is calm and the days are still long. Justin can faintly see a woman. He watches her in another room as she stops to grab a cup off a table and walks toward him. She moves with a grace and beauty that is easily recognizable. It is Samantha.

"I think you're taking this whole marriage thing a little too hard."
Justin can feel his face grow flush, "And I think you're taking it all a little too lightly. When is this happening?"
Samantha smiles, "Next week, actually." She looks for Justin to react. "I was so excited I couldn't wait much longer."
"What about... " he doesn't finish, pulling back the words that have never escaped his lips. He wants to grab her from the chair and shake some sense into her. Instead, Justin stands up, visibly rattled. She smiles at him again. He runs out the door and into the hallway, as it fades away to darkness.

Justin can faintly see a woman. He watches her in another room as she stops to grab a cup off a table and walks toward him. She moves with a grace and beauty that makes his heart swell with love for only her.

"I think you're taking this whole marriage thing a little too hard."
Justin can feel his face grow hotter, "And I think you're taking it all a little too lightly. I don't think you should do this."
Samantha smiles, "We're doing this next week, actually." She looks for Justin to react. "I was so excited I couldn't wait much longer."
"Did you ever think how I might feel?"
She doesn't respond. He wants to scratch the paint off the walls, crush every piece of furniture in his hands. Justin stands up fuming. She smiles at him again. He runs out the door and into the hallway, as it fades away to darkness.

Justin can faintly see a woman sway with a grace and beauty that makes him want to hold her in his pocket forever.

"I think you're taking this whole marriage thing a little too hard."
Justin can feel an overwhelming hostility, "You don't love me. You never did."
Samantha smiles, "It's happening next week, actually. I was so excited I couldn't wait much longer."
"You slipped away from me. I could plead forever and you would never love me the same way again."
She doesn't respond.
Justin grabs the scissors from the table, and cuts the ties that held him to her. He cuts and cuts and cuts and cuts... and a drop of blood falls to the floor.

Back beneath the grey December clouds, Justin wipes his cheek. There are no tears, just memories of them. "I couldn't believe that was me. I loved her. I still do."
"But it was you," Archdeacon Williams interjects, "and now you're trying your best to forget."
Justin realizes they’ve walked back to the cathedral, “It appears we’ve come full circle.”
Putting away his sketch pad, the Archdeacon nods his head solemnly and enters, followed by Justin. They both stand silent for a moment beneath the vaulted ceiling of the Salisbury Cathedral. The crowd is a bit thinner now than earlier. It is still daylight outside.

The Archdeacon takes a seat and breathes a heavy sigh, “We can stay here and discuss the recent events that have so troubled your mind. Perhaps I can help you learn more about who you are and why this tragedy happened.” Then he motions toward the west front doors, "Or you can walk through those doors, and leave behind your suffering. I can’t promise you though that either decision will bring you everlasting peace, but perhaps you might find some redemption in the here and now"

Justin slowly closes his eyes and tries hard to imagine his life without Samantha. The life he's living now. "I'm sorry, and goodbye." he whispers, as he walks to the doorway. The pain of not seeing Samantha's face, not hearing her laugh, not holding her hand... she'll never smile at him again. It's still too much to burden, too much to accept. That burden, and maybe even the guilt, feels lighter and easier to let go as he approaches the doors. The Archdeacon said he can leave behind the suffering. Wishing he could leave behind that and more, Justin passes beneath the Consecration Cross and outside to the falling snow. The heavy west front doors slowly close. The loud metal clunk startles him.