Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 11:13:55 -0700
From: B.E. Kelley <hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Peace Within Chapter 5

This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention.
Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The
author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story.
You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.

This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage
males.  It is intended for mature audiences only.  If you find this type of
material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material;
please proceed no further.

Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com

The Peace Within

Chapter 5

The morning of Patton's funeral, I got up early and polished my black dress
shoes.  I didn't wear them much and it seemed important to dress the part
today, I didn't want to look like a bum for my brother's final send off. I
actually worked up a sweat polishing those shoes and when I was done, the
finish was like a mirror, they would have made a drill sergeant.  With that
finished, I stripped naked and put on my bathrobe, then walked down the
hall for a shower.  I took a long hot shower, letting the water work the
kinks out of my body, then I combed my hair perfectly into place.  Back in
my room, I put on a white dress shirt with a black tie that had a pattern
made of tiny white polka dots.  I put on my black three button suit, gave
myself a cursory inspection in the mirror, then went down to the kitchen
and sat at the breakfast table to wait for everyone else.

I've barely spoken sense the night of the grief counseling session, in
fact, I've been shutting myself off, one little piece at a time.  I eat but
only enough to sustain the barest of functions, I sleep when I can but I've
grown restless and spend a lot of my time sitting against my headboard,
clutching Patton's jacket.  We've had visitors, the McCarthy's came by so
did Patton's girlfriend, Kelsey, and a bunch of other random people.  My
brother in-law Jeff is here, he brought my nephew Aiden with him.  Aiden
doesn't really understand what's going on, he's too young and he keeps
asking why everyone is crying and when Uncle Patton is coming home.  I
haven't spent much time around my nephew, his innocent questions hurt too
much.

Mom was the first one down to the kitchen, like me, she was already dressed
to face the day.  She asked if I was hungry but I just shook my head, no.
I couldn't eat today, my stomach was already in knots, I didn't want to
make it worse.  I sat at the breakfast table and stared out at the
backyard, Patton may have been the one that died, but I was the one acting
like a zombie.  Aside from Aiden, the rest of the family was quiet while
they pushed their breakfast around their plates and drank their coffee.  At
9:00am, it was time to go.

Patrick and I, rode with mom and dad, Whitney, Jeff and Aiden drove across
town to pick up grandpa at the rest home.  Patton's service was being held
at our church, St. James Episcopal, when we got there, the parking lot was
already filling up, but dad found a spot right in front.  We sat there in
silence for a few minutes, after he shut off the engine, then, he took moms
hand in his, gave it a squeeze and it was time to go.  I don't remember
walking from the car to the church, I just remember opening the door to the
Range Rover and suddenly being in the church vestibule.

Jeff and Whitney arrived with grandpa a few minutes after we did, I saw
them pull up but they must have taken him in through the side entrance
because they didn't walk past us.  There was a line in front of us, friends
and family from all over New England had come to pay their respects, mom,
dad, Patrick and I stood there and accepted their condolences.  I was glad
to see Lee and Henry McCarthy in the receiving line, I'd never liked them
much before but now they were a comfort.  Lee and Henry were Patton's best
friends, they were going to serve as pall bearers and I knew Patton would
be happy that they were a part of his send off.

Everything was going fine until Patton's girlfriend, Kelsey Miller, arrived
with her parents.  Kelsey wore a simple black dress with a gold cross
around her neck.  She hugged my parents, she and mom sniffled a little, and
then mom and dad started talking to her parents.  The Millers were about as
upset as you could be, they loved Patton, thought he was just the kind of
boy their daughter should be dating, if you could have seen them, you'd
have thought they'd lost a son of their own.  For a moment I felt a twinge
of happiness, at least my brother had known love in his life.

Things started to unravel when Kelsey got to me. She'd hugged mom and dad,
moved on to Patrick, hugged him and wiped a tear from his cheek, then she
hugged me.  The hug lingered long past the point of being comfortable and
when she did pull back, she held onto my shoulders and looked at my face as
if she were committing every square inch of it to memory.

"Patton, Patton?" said Kelsey, while she caressed my face with the tips of
her fingers, "Patton?"

She was losing it, the sight of me was too much for her.  Kelsey's heart
was broken, she'd truly loved my brother, she must have felt like I did,
like her heart had been ripped out.  Patton's death had hit her to hard,
seeing me just confused her and made things worse.

"Patton, is that you?" said Kelsey.

I started to freak out, I wasn't Patton but I would have given anything to
trade places with him.  He's the one who should be standing here, I should
be the one in the box, it would be so much simpler that way. I didn't have
anyone, if our places were switched, there wouldn't be some deranged girl
clutching at his lapels calling out my name.

"Oh Patton," Kelsey moaned, then she hugged me again and wouldn't let go.

"Dad, dad," I whined, I was on the verge of losing it and I didn't know
what to do, I just wanted my dad to make her go away.

Kelsey's parents grabbed her and it took considerable effort to pull us
apart.

"Patton!" Kelsey shouted.

"It's not him honey, it's Parker, it's not him," said Mrs. Miller.

Kelsey reached for me again but her dad stepped between us, while my dad
pulled me into his arms.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" shouted Kelsey, then she broke into uncontrollable
sobs.

"I wanna go home, dad, I wanna go home," I whined into my father's chest.

"Easy Parker, easy," dad soothed.

Mr. Miller got control of Kelsey and led her away, her mom stayed behind
and made their apologies.

"I'm so sorry," sniffled Mrs. Miller, "She just can't handle this, she
loved Patton so much, we all did."

"It's ok," said dad, still rubbing my back, "take her home and give her
something to help her sleep."

"I'm so sorry," said Mrs. Miller, she pated me on the back, I flinched,
thinking it might be Kelsey again, then she was gone.

I stood there, shaking in my dad's arms.  My mom took Patrick inside and
dad took me out to the parking lot to get some air.  He didn't' talk,
didn't say anything, he gave me the time I needed to compose myself.

"Ok, I'm ready now," I sighed, after a few minutes.

"Are you sure, we can take as long as you need," said dad.

"I wasn't prepared for that," I admitted.  I knew a lot of people were
having a hard time looking at me because of my resemblance to Patton, I
understood that, but I hadn't been prepared for anything like what happened
with Kelsey.

"She's just upset son, she didn't mean to scare you," said dad.

"Yeah, I know," I nodded, "I'm ready now."

Dad stayed right by my side, we walked down the center aisle and more than
a few conversations stopped so that people could look at me.  I was growing
tired of seeing the stricken look on their faces, whether I understood
their feelings or not, it was getting hard to take.  When we reached the
front pew, grandpa, my mom's dad, greeted me with his typical flair.

"Well hello there Sunny Jim," said grandpa, in his boisterous Scottish
brogue, "where's my Pally Boy?"

Grandpa was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease a couple of years ago.  He
didn't realize he was at a funeral, but at least he still recognized me.
He'd always called me Sunny Jim and Patton, Pally Boy.  It was just one of
his quirks.

"He's not coming," I croaked.

"Not coming, but he'll miss the wedding," said grandpa.

"Dad, we're not at a wedding, remember, Patton died, I told you about it,"
said mom, she was patient but you could tell she was about to crack.

"Oh, yes, yes I remember now," said grandpa, his happy smile quickly
turning to a look of anguish.

I sat next to my mom and dad, Patrick was on my left.  The ceremony started
with a bag piper playing Amazing Grace, in honor of the Scottish half of
our heritage.  The casket was brought in by three members of the football
team and three members of the baseball team, Lee and Henry were in front,
all of them wearing their varsity jackets instead of their suit coats.  We
stood as the casket went by and I felt my heart skip a beat.  When the
casket was in place, the pall bearers withdrew. Henry took a little longer
as he stopped and put his hand on the lid, sniffled back some tears, and
then was led away by Lee.

Reverend Michaels, the man who baptized us, officiated over the ceremony.
I wanted to listen to him but I couldn't hear any more about God's plan and
how he works in mysterious ways.  I didn't care anymore, whatever God's
reasons for taking Patton might be, I couldn't reconcile the fact that I
had the power to make things different.  I started thinking about Patton
and how much he meant to me.  I looked back over my life and all the best
and worst moments had been shared with him.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, it was like I was in a dream.
Patton was there, so was I, only we were 5 years old again.  I recognized
the setting, we were at grandma and grandpa's house and it was Christmas,
our parents were still in the "dress the twins alike," stage and we wore
matching green sweaters.  I wasn't even sure which one was me until grandma
opened her front door.

"Merry Christmas my little cutie pies," grandma smiled, "let's get you in
out of that snow!"

Grandma hugged us tight and then she took the coats and my parents followed
her into the living room, where we heard grandpa welcoming them.

"I'm the cute one," said Patton, while he knelt down to pet Sasha,
grandma's dachshund.

"What do you mean you're the cute one, we look the same," I argued,
reasonably.

"But I'm the cute one," said Patton.

"Na uh, I'm the cute," I fought back.

"No me," said Patton.

"I'm just as cute as you!" I replied.

"Oh yeah?" said Patton, then he picked his nose and wiped it on my cheek,
"I'm the cute one now cause you got a boogey on your face."

"MOMMMMMMMMMMMM!" I shouted.

I remember when that happened, the memory was clear as day, and I remember
being so furious with him, that was so gross.  I was so upset, I ran
screaming to my mom, she took me to the bathroom and cleaned my face, I
cried and cried.

"Why did he do that, it was so mean," I whined.

"He wasn't trying to be mean honey, he's your brother and he loves you,"
mom smiled.

"Yeah but..." I started to complain.

"You're brother just likes to be silly sometimes, I'm sure he didn't mean
to hurt your feelings, ok?" said mom.

"Yeah, ok," I whined.

When we walked back into the living room, Patton was standing in the
corner, having a time out.

"Patton, do you have something you want to say to your brother?" asked dad.

"I'm sorry Parker, I won't put boogies on you anymore," said Patton, then
he hugged me.

My parents loved that story, they delighted in telling it to people,
especially Patton's various girlfriends, when they came over.  I'd always
hated that story, I mean, he put a booger on me!  So you can imagine my
surprise when I burst out laughing, right in the middle of Reverend
Michaels' sermon.  The minister stopped talking and when I finally stopped
laughing, I opened my eyes to find a room full of mortified mourners
gawking at me.

"Parker!" mom exclaimed.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, "I don't know what came over me."

The minister saved me any further embarrassment by resuming his
sermon. Sitting there, remembering that Christmas from so many years ago,
it took away my pain, even if it was just for a moment.  I closed my eyes
again and let my mind wander. This time I pictured a baseball game from
seventh grade.

I was sitting in the bleachers next to grandpa, before his diagnoses, he
came to all our games.  I'd never been a baseball fan, I thought the game
was boring and I was only there because grandpa had picked me up after
school and hadn't taken me home yet.  I was reading a book, I think it was
"Where the Red Fern Grows," and I was really into it, when grandpa smacked
me on the back of the head.

"Pay attention Sunny Jim, it's the bottom of the ninth, games tied and
Pally Boy's at the plate," said Grandpa.

I rolled my eyes, dog eared my page and looked up.  Patton was standing
there in his grey uniform and blue socks.  He turned to look into the
bleachers and smiled when he saw me and grandpa.  Patton swung at the first
two pitches and missed, by the third, grandpa was leaning forward in his
seat.

"Settle down now Pally Boy, you can do it!" grandpa shouted.

Patton looked back again and nodded at grandpa, then I gave him a thumbs
up.  He shot me one of his mischievous winks and I just knew he'd missed
the first two pitches on purpose, the little shit was setting the crowd up
for something special.  Sure enough, Patton turned back to the pitcher and
when the third pitch got to the sweet spot, Patton knocked it deep into
left field.  The crowd went wild, Patton scored the last run and won the
game for his team, even I was excited.

"That's my brother, that's my brother!" I shouted.

When we got down to the field, Patton snuck up behind us and hugged me.

"I'm glad you made it kid, you're my good luck charm," said Patton.

"You knew you were going to hit that ball, you let the first two pitches go
on purpose," I exclaimed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Patton grinned, then took off his
cap and put it on my head.

Reverend Michaels was finished and now Henry McCarthy stepped up to the
pulpit.  He'd spoken to my mom, the morning after the disaster at First
Methodist, and asked if he could offer a eulogy.  Mom was happy to let
Henry say a few words, she'd wanted me to do it but accepted that I just
couldn't. Henry was very close to Patton and I thought it was fitting that
his best friend should speak.

"Patton was my best friend.  You could always count on him to be there for
you.  When I heard that he was dead, it was like part of me died too.  I
feel bad that I never got to tell him how much I cared about him, you grow
up being told that boys don't talk about their feelings, but I wish I did.
Patton died standing up to the people who killed so many of our friends and
classmates, he was such a brave guy, he knew he was probably going to get
it but his last thought was to try and protect someone else. Patton, you're
my hero," Henry sniffled.

I kind of lost track of the rest of Henry's speech, I was crying and there
was this pounding in my ears, it felt like my head was going to split open.
I still can't explain that feeling, I've never felt anything like that
before, but it felt like my head was going to split in half.  Before I knew
it, Henry was stepping down from the pulpit and hugging my parents.  I
assumed the service was about to end but then our school choir began to
fill the risers behind the casket.

Patton started singing in the choir when we were freshmen and I always
assumed that it was because he was after some girl.  We'd both had music
lessons when we were kids, I loved the piano but Patton hated it. I
remembered being five years old again, I was sitting at the piano, my feet
couldn't reach the floor and I was swinging my legs back and forth.

"Patton, it's time for your lesson," said old Mrs. Harper.

"I'm not playing anymore," said Patton.

"And why not?" asked Mrs. Harper.

"Because, piano is stupid, it's for girls!" Patton exclaimed.

"Is not," I shouted back.

"It's not stupid or for girls, Parker likes it," Mrs. Harper reasoned.

"Parker likes it because he's a girl, I bet he's even got little boobies,"
said Patton.

"I don't have boobies!" I shouted.

"Do to!" Patton retorted.

"Do not!" I fired back.

"Boys, that is enough of that talk," said Mrs. Harper.

Patton stuck his tongue out at me and I stuck mine out at him.

"Alright, that's enough, Patton, come sit next to your brother," said
Mrs. Harper.

"No!" said Patton, stubbornly, then he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Patton Westergaard, do you want me to call your mother?" asked
Mrs. Harper.

"Ok, ok, geez," Patton sighed.

That was the last time he ever had a piano lesson and he didn't express an
interest in music again until he joined the choir.  I shouldn't have been
surprised, he had a great voice.  When the choir was assembled, one of the
baritone's stepped forward and started to sing a song I knew well, grandpa
sang it to us when we were little and it was one of Patton's favorites.

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on
Loch Lomon', where me and my true love were ever wont to gae, On the
bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.



O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak the low road, An' I'll be in
Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again, On the
bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.



'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen, On the steep, steep side o'
Ben Lomon', Where in deep purple hue the Hieland hills we view, An' the
moon shine'en out in the gloamin'.



O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak the low road, An' I'll be in
Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again, On the
bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomon'.



The wee birdies sing and the wild flow'rs spring, And in sunshine the
waters are gleamin'; But the broken heart it kens nae second spring, Tho'
the waefu' may cease frae their greetin'



Patton loved that song, he'd picked it up from grandpa and I remember him
singing it to me when we were kids, he always sang it with such great joy.
I was always scared of thunder storms and when they struck, Patton would
climb into bed with me and sing me to sleep.  I couldn't believe what I was
hearing, I'd never read anything into those lyrics before but sitting
there, in the church, at his funeral, it was clear as day, the song was
about death! Someone's sweetheart wasn't coming home, just like Patton
wasn't coming home to me.

Grandpa knew it too, he saw through the fog of his Alzheimer's and wept
quietly between Patrick and Whitney.  When the song ended, the service came
to a close, there would be a brief graveside ceremony and that would be
that.  Before we left, everyone was supposed to file past the casket so
they could say their final goodbye.  Naturally the family went first, I
lingered behind mom, dad and Patrick, and when it was my turn, I stopped
and looked down at the casket.  This was the last time I would ever be in
the earthly presence of my twin and I couldn't face that, I missed him so
much.  I put my hand on the casket but that wasn't enough, I rested my
cheek against the cold, polished wood and started to cry.  It started deep
inside me, building in intensity until it came to the surface, I tried to
suppress it but I couldn't choke it back.  I felt dad put his hand on my
shoulder.

"Parker, he's gone son, it's time to let him go," said dad, then he tried
to pull me away, that's when it happened.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I wailed, it was a
deep, anguished yawp, a prime-evil expression of pain and suffering.

It was as if my heart split open and every hurt I'd ever experienced came
out at once.  I couldn't breathe, all I could do was make that God awful
sound, that pitiful cry.  In the end, I passed out in my father's arms, I
never made it to the graveside service, I didn't wake up until the next
day.