He had finally come to his decision as he pulled into the driveway on a late Friday afternoon in August of 1998. He’d known for months what he had wanted to do and had planned carefully for it. He parked the car well off to the left making sure not to block Steph’s car. She’d be leaving with the kids in about an hour, so he hurried in to help her finish loading the Tahoe. He would have bet his life savings that the car was certainly not loaded yet, he smiled grimly to himself. They were off to see her folks and he was off on a weekend fishing trip to Florida. She’d be back in about four days with about a week to spare before school started again. As Will had walked into the kitchen from the back door the noise of a flustered wife, a loud confused son and a complaining daughter hit his ears, like cymbals crashing. The normal noisy storm before the late and hurried departure to anywhere, let alone a four day trip two states away.
The running argument and loud jumbled conversation on that August afternoon as it trailed out of the house and into the car would be the the last time he would heard their voices. It would be the last time he would ever see them again. He waved to them as they pulled out and as usual they had been too preoccupied with who got the I-Pod first, to really notice. A brief honk down at the end of the block was done from habit with maybe a small amount of guilt for forgetting to actually say goodbye, but mostly just an afterthought. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault he said to himself, it’s just the way it is now. He watched the car turn the corner and continued to stare for a minute or two, his eyes glazed over and dull. His mind was dull as well, muddied and sluggish. Hell, he still loved her and she still loved him and they both adored the kids. So much history together, so many memories but it didn’t matter, he had made his decision and he wasn’t going to change his mind at this point.
Will Garrison finally turned back up the driveway and walked back into the kitchen, now quiet as a cemetery. He looked stoically around the familiar scene, taking one last sad mental picture of refrigerator magnets, pictures and a small plate on the counter with half of a cookie still on it. Standing there he still couldn’t believe it. He also couldn’t believe that later that evening, he would be dead. He was just sure of it.
He would die tragically in a small plane crash around 9:30 p.m. or so tonight. He would be piloting his pride and joy, the Cessna Skylane that he had bought and learned to fly about five years earlier. Sitting next to him tonight would be his life-long best friend Brett Colson. Brett, the firmly committed bachelor, whom Will lived vicariously through. They had gone on this yearly trip religiously and enjoyed it immensely. After picking Brett up and driving to the small regional airport, they would load the plane with luggage and fishing gear. As Will had filed the flight plan already, his plane would be fueled in advance and all they would have to do would be go through the standard pre-flight preparations and wait for clearance to take-off. While Brett had no license to fly and didn’t really understand all of the instrumentation and procedures he had become a helpful unofficial copilot so they would be ready to go fairly quick.
It was nearly 9:00 and they had been in that air almost an hour, and according to his calculations, Will knew he was very close to where he wanted to be. He looked down and tapped the fuel gauge with his forefinger, seemingly puzzled he switched over to auxiliary fuel and continued to stare at the gauge. Brett picked up on this and looked over at him questioningly.
Will continued to stare at the instrumentation but now had slowly unbuckled his harness and told Brett calmly, “Hold her steady for a second okay?”
“Sure Will, no problem”, Brad replied, curious but certainly not concerned. Will was capable, solid and steady as they come in virtually everything he did, in work, at home, or in life for that matter. He was a hard man, uncompromising in general, but decent and extremely confident. Brad had no doubt he had control of the situation, whatever that was.
Will turned and half stretched, half crawled between and behind them, Brett simply taking the yoke and keeping her relatively steady as he had been instructed.
“Okay, I got it” Will said twisting back around and coming back through the narrow space between them, taking the yoke again.
Expressionless, Will looked straight ahead out into the darkness and he could feel Brett looking at him expectantly for some explanation or next step. For a brief second, Will thought to himself that maybe this all didn’t have to happen, that it wasn’t really necessary. But it had broken him and it was too late for any of that, much too late, he concluded silently.
“We’re going down Brett” Will had said it as calmly and as matter of fact as if he had been commenting on the sunset earlier that evening.
“We’re go.....wha…..What did you say?” Brett asked, as he noticed in the glow of the instruments that Will was sitting a little awkwardly now.
The only answer was the changing sound of the plane as it began to steadily gain altitude. The stronger drone continued and the Cessna’s altitude needle just kept going higher.
Will looking straight out into the night suddenly said, “Before this happens Brett, do you have anything to tell me? Anything, to say to me? Anything at all? You’re my best friend, you’re like my brother”, and adding almost as an aside he finished with, “we don’t have much time left together bud.”
He didn’t look over at Brett, he just kept flying the Cessna and staring straight ahead. There was a long silence, pregnant and tense.
“Look, Will…..I don’t know what this is all about….is there something wrong with the plane or you? Brett stammered
There was no answer from his old friend.
“Will, I …..I don’t know what you’re thinking or what you’re feeling right now, tell me whats wrong“ Brett was picking his words carefully, talking low and even.
Still no answer came from the stone faced pilot. As Brett stared over at him in the darkness of the small, instrument lit cockpit, he thought he could make out a small package in the lap of his friend. He peered at it trying to distinguish it and realized seconds later what it was. A parachute.
Brett was stammering now as he began to realize that something was seriously wrong “Will, for God’s sake what’s wrong?! Whats got you….so damn….upset….is it the job, the - ”
“DON’T do this to me”, Will said cutting in. “Don’t, on top of everything else…..don’t” he said once again with quiet force. Another silence followed and Brett slowly turned to look out the side window and into the never ending darkness. The plane droned on steadily, it had leveled out just seconds earlier, reaching the desired altitude for Will. There had been no talk for at least a minute. A very long minute.
Brett, while still looking out at nothing and his mind racing finally broke the silence, “It wasn’t her fault, not her fault at all Will”, he said abruptly, “Hell man she still loves you……Steph never really cared for me….we just….we….”
“You tore my heart out pardner, just as sure as shooting me, you killed me” Will said as his voice raised and leveled out again. He continued, “You’ve got a decision to make Brett”, handing the parachute across to his friend, “You or I will survive this - but both of us will die in our own way.”
“Will?!….Jesus…..Will, what the hell are you talking about?!” Brett asked sounding very close to panic now and still not entirely believing that this was really happening.
“One of us will go down with this plane, which is almost out of fuel. The other will use that parachute and probably live, but face the consequences; hiding out, running away from everything and everybody we ever knew or just turning themselves in. You Brett, yeah my old buddy Brett, You will decide who does what”, Will said as he slowed the airspeed of the plane and this time he was staring evenly back at his former friend.
He was sure he knew what the decision would be as Brett contemplated the small parachute that now lay in his lap. Sure he was going to die like he’d thought he would all day.
“And Brett” Will said as a side comment almost “we don’t have much time, we’re far too high to try to bring this thing in safely and she’s gonna start coughing with no fuel in a second.
Brett finally looked up at Will from the paracute on his lap with a mixed expression of grief and a deep sadness. Mingled in that look and that face though was also a touch of honor. Yes, there was definitely a look of honor. Honor once had, lost and now regained, decided Will to himself as he looked hard at the best friend he would ever have.
Epilogue
The headlines and stories in the local Georgia papers had been tragic and sudden as they always are in plane crashes;
“Two prominent business leaders from the small town of Shackley, Georgia were killed late Friday night when their Cessna went down in the Florida Everglades. One body has been found and positively identified in the wreckage of the plane and the other has still had not been recovered”.
That second body, most likely never would be found, due to the almost impossible terrain and swamp around the wreckage. Or another reason. Regardless, an extensive search had been conducted. After the search was finally called off with no results and several weeks had passed by it was time for other tragedies, mysteries and scandals in the news. There were always plenty of those other stories to go around. Week after week and month after month the story faded, until finally it was just a vague memory for most.
Steph Garrison was never the same although she finally had to just accept what had happened and come to terms with it in a way. But that never took away the guilt, knowing what she knew, feeling the shame she felt. She had no one to confide in and no one to go to, but she had accepted that as her fate and her just reward. There was something else though, something that ate at her day and night, sometimes it was right in her face and other times it was controlled and well under the surface. It was always there though, always with her. She had already decided that this was something that would be with her until the day she died. It whispered to her on a wrong number call at night, tapped her softly on the shoulder in the grocery store, stared at her from two rows back at the movie theatre. It was in her rearview mirror as she was backing out of a mall parking place, standing and staring in the parking lot. Always with her, right behind her or around the corner, or down the street standing and staring.
She didn’t know if it was just a guilty conscience or something entirely different. She shuddered at the second reason. The body that had never been found was that of her husband, Will. She was just sure of the terrible result of the accident. Just positive they had both perished. Sure of it. On the other hand she knew Will like no one else, knew his strength and perseverance, knew how strong he was physically and in his personality. Knew his feelings towards right and wrong….
On this sunny day in early June, she sat at her daughter’s college graduation ceremony with a sense of tremendous pride and love but sadness as well. Will Jr. sat next to her looking at his sister on stage with a solemn and sincere look of his own. They had all grown closer as a result of the terrible ordeal that occurred some 7 years ago now. That was the one good thing that had come out of this nightmare, she smiled to herself and wiped a slow tear away. Meghan was walking off the stage now. Graceful and beautiful in her dark blue and gold robe, she had accepted her diploma as Steph had watched with trembling lips and big slow tears. As she recovered, smiling back at her son who looked at her with some concern, she felt it again.
Felt the eyes. Somewhere behind her. Eyes burning into her. After several minutes and another twenty or so names had been called, she couldn’t stand it anymore, simply couldn’t. As nonchalantly as possible she turned innocently around with a staged expectant look, as if looking for a relative, scanning the crowd behind her, eyebrows raised and a false grin on her face.
It was like looking for something you really don’t want to find, sweeping back and forth half heartedly, hoping not to see anyone you know. She was just about to turn around with a great deal of relief, when she saw the man. Same square shoulders, same posture, maybe a little lighter in build. Maybe. He was sitting in the very back row and was partially blocked by the seated crowd. This was an informal outside ceremony so his baseball cap and sunglasses were not unusual attire and he blended in easily with the rest of the crowd. Even with the glasses though, she could feel those eyes on her, feel them burning right through her with a hot hate. She scanned away and then did her best to casually turn back around. Steph Garrison sat frozen with fear and rooted so badly, she could hardly twist around to move her arm back around her son. She did manage to decide something though, despite all of this fear and trepidation. Afterward, before she would greet her daughter, she would follow him, get a better look and if she could really steel herself, personally confirm who he was.
As the ceremony was just about to conclude she stole one more glance to get a better bearing on where he was sitting. Her face fell though as people behind her gradually shifted and moved, giving a clearer look back to where he was. An empty chair stared back at her. Looking through the crowd afterward she had not found him either. Little did she know she would never find him, despite seeing or feeling him many more times in the years to come. Little did she know that a never opened, rotted parachute on Will Garrison’s skeleton was back in that Everglade swamp somewhere, destined never to be found, destined to forever plague her.
