Bruces time

The abandonment was total.  The ousting of his heart, soul and inner essence had been complete, no reverberation, no ripples, just nothingness and then stillness beyond even that, languishing for 11 years. This morning, this day of days Bruce’s brain felt bruised and his nerves frayed to tethers as his thoughts trod lightly, ever so lightly at the outer  fringes of that horrific memory, not daring to reach deeper, the pain was to great.  Since last night he had been pacing his cell ad nauseam, just thinking, trying not to think and thinking again, struggling to maintain a grip on his reality.  Was it true, was he actually going to walk out of there, or was this some joke that perverts and despots like him were subjected to.  He had come to except these labels and after many years of interminably painful self struggling, came even to believe his captors.  Society could not be that mistaken, the police, the attorneys, the families….the poor families, they had no choice, but to scorch him in the flames of hell.  All the evidence pointed to him and he had no defense or little recollection of that day, sporadic moments of memory at best.  Rebbecca had gone to visit her mother for a couple of days and he took advantage and invited friends over.  It quickly turned into a frat party, powerful memories of their youth confounded their judgment, they were young again – all vices incorporated.  It had been so long since he was able to let his hair down, it felt great. How could he be expected to remember, both days were a complete fog.  The police however had made things clear, very clear, everything pointed to him and all that remained was her missing body – he was guilty!  Yes he was a vile being with no humanity in his soul and needed to be put away, even killed.  Yet he was spared that ultimate fate and in time languishing in his six by eight cell, longed for it.  In his torments he had wished many times to be dead.  He tried many times to make that happen and each time he was saved by the very people who despised every breath he took.  He came to understand that that was his true ultimate punishment, a living soulless corpse, devoured slowly and relentlessly by maggots of guilt.  The death sentence was to good for him.

“Bruce… Bruce!”  came a distant voice, he slowly turned to face the guard, still caught up in his thoughts. “ It’s time to go buddy, Don’t you want to fix yourself up a little, you look like hell."

Bruce… buddy, he kept repeating these words in his head.  Only days ago he was the foulest son of a bitch that deserved to be tortured in the most gruesome way. Only that type of vengeance could begin to feed the desire for justice…but only begin, for he deserved even worse.  Now things had changed… how things had changed!  His response is awkward.

“Oh ..yeah…sure” he clumsily  tucked his shirt in and straightened his collar.  The clothes felt just as awkward as hearing himself referred to as buddy.  Oddly enough he remembered the day he bought the clothes, grey was never his colour but she was so damned pretty, the prettiest he had ever seen, he simply agreed.  Over time he came to appreciate Rebbecca’s taste in things and trusted her completely, fashion was never his strongest sense.  She always made him look good.  This rare reflection and glimpse into his past jolted him back shaking and wet with sweat.  Over the years he’d become good at forgetting…but now!

“Hey hey, that’s ok you look fine, lets get you out of here, you have a whole new world to look forward to….”  Eric paused realizing the immensity of what he had just said.  “Ah ..Listen Bruce,…there are a ton of reporters out there waiting for you, they’re going to crowd you, I mean really crowd you,” the guard knew his words would not help him out there.  “So take it easy, try not let it affect you.  I mean…it’ll be ok, if you want to talk to them, or just walk straight for the bus.  You don’t have to say a thing if you don’t want.” 

There was always something different about Bruce, thought Eric, not what he expected, didn’t fit the criminal profile, but he couldn’t go by his personal feelings, that would’ve be wrong.  He had a job to do, responsibilities…nothing would stand in it’s way.  This man... this monster, or so he thought, they all thought, deserved no mercy and they gave him none.  Eric felt empty and remorseful, his initial feelings were right and now he had been part of a system that had castigated and vilified this poor man for all those years.  Today it felt good using his name, it allowed a certain closeness that he never dared.  How do they begin to repay him,… how does he repay him.  The thought of the number of times he looked the other way allowing Bruce to be beaten recoiled in his gut,… he felt less human now.  Slowly he guides Bruce out of the cell.

There was no looking back for Bruce as he walked to the gates, there are no memories here, just cruel poison. He will learn to block out these years, never think about them again, except for three days ago, that memory will never be forgotten,  He will clutch onto it with all his might, it represented the truth that he had so long ago forgotten.  He had told them he was innocent, screamed it to the brink of insanity and when he was silenced he screamed within, in silent anguish with every fibre of his being.  Then he forgot the truth, there was no more truth just a despicable aberration of a man taking up space and money when he should be dead.  The guards were relentless with their denigration and he had come to agree with them, he should be dead.  No, no memories here, not for Bruce anyway, for the vile monster maybe but not for Bruce.  He will have to learn to reclaim his old memories and his name….Bruce.

It was a sunny day with the bluest sky he could remember.  It felt strange walking outside at this time of day, his hour of outdoor exercise and exposure always happened in the later part of the day, when all other inmates were back inside.  It was one way the system  protected him from harm. What a joke, protection for one hour, it did little for Bruce the other twenty three hours. At first it always felt like a minute nowhere close to an hour, it was just to painfully quick.  He would lose himself in those alone moments, daring to remember who he really was, swearing that they would never take away his innocent joyful memories.  Then long after his struggle his brief time with the sky and God last meaning, his sixty minutes became lost to truth and reason.  He eventually opened himself up to self loathing and humiliation, the sky and God mattered no more and soon he wouldn’t bother with it at all.  His anxiety swelled and his legs could barely hold him as Eric nudged him forward slowly.  He now stood at the final door that would present his new world, a world he wasn’t yet ready to embrace.

“Well, ah…” Eric was lost for words, “ I don’t know what to say…ah….take care of yourself Bruce…I really mean it” At that moment he felt a person, a living being, this man who had so broken him was recognizing his innocence. 

The torrent of reporters gushing down around them was immediate and heart- stopping.  Voices from all directions, some questions audible most not, Bruce was catatonic. 

“It’s Ok Bruce, come on I’ll walk with you”, Eric managed to pry Bruce from his comatose state and they headed for the bus. The questions continued to surround them like a deep mist, the cameras, the mikes the faces…lots of faces inches away, too many bodies, he lacked air and needed some right away.  He began pushing his way through the crowds, he wanted that bus more then he ever wanted anything in his life.  With a final squeeze through a couple of  reporters he lunges himself  through the open doors tripping on the steps and collapsing before the bus driver.

“Ok mister?”  Bruce could barely make his voice over the frenzied crowds at the doors. A warm concerned face looked down at him.  The doors quickly shut, Bruce felt relieved.  He gazed at the craziness this had become and out there he spotted Eric with a gentle smile, he was really free.  He quickly scanned the crowd randomly, yes there were lots of faces…but not hers.  You idiot, fool, Bruce debated, of course not hers, she has a new life now why would she be here! 
Bruce stood staring out the at the crowd, still jostling for position dangerously close as the bus begun pulling away, now his mind oblivious to their shouting as his past paid him another visit.. 

“Mr. Adams the people of this nation and we in the judiciary owe you a profound apology.  Nothing will reverse or alter the anguish you have suffered for our error.  We apologize to your family for the deception they were entreated to believe. This irreversible calamity of justice is what we fear in cases such as yours, and because of it we have to constantly be vigilant and raise the bar of proof.  May God guide you in your future endeavors…… you are a free man”

He had memorized the phrase till it was etched permanently in his mind.  That was his day, his day of justice…finally a free man and yet he felt empty a vast void at the pit of his stomach….she wasn’t there.  His lawyer promised he would let her know.

“Sorry sir…sir … you’ll have to take a seat please”  the bus driver slowed down as he addressed Bruce. 

Bruce still looked at the crowd now a short distance away, scattering in various directions scampering for their vehicles. What an odd heap of insects, he thought, so disorganized and yet strangely conducting themselves in the same shameless way as on the day he was believed to have been guilty.  He didn’t know what it meant, nor did he care, all he knew is that he was exhausted. He slowly made his way to the first row of seats and collapsed into one and as he did he was surprised that his focus turned immediately to how comfortable the seat felt.  It provided him with unexpected solace and tranquility, feelings so long unattainable he forgot their quiet vitality and vibrancy.  He sat trying not to have his mood disturbed, hanging on to the soothing emptiness that now engulfed him, the golden warmth of the sun cloaking his body.  He felt alone in the universe and it was magnificent, but as most things had in Bruce’s life it didn’t last, he was jolted back to that inescapable dungeon of thoughts. He was assaulted back to where there was no immunity from thinking, feeling and suffering.  Sleep was not an option, his mind incrementally infested his thoughts till they were hopeless to avoid.  There was no warning on that fateful day, no recognition of anything gone awry.  Sure there were lots of conversations going around about the poor missing girl, posters radio talk shows, television, next door neighbours but never a hint that it was him they would finally suspect and charge.  How did it ever get to that, he never even new the girl. He had seen her around walking with her friends to the local store when the weather allowed. A petite girl with dirty blond hair and dark brown steaks, he remembered it was always frayed and scraggly.  She seemed very mild and was never heard above the playful remarks of her… Stop it…Bruce clenched his jaws and squeezed his eyes tight  he dare not delve any deeper on this he thought, change topic, he closed his eyes even tighter…please God change topic!  His mind would only allow him a moments reprieve, then his thoughts went right back.

“Mr. Adams, Mr. Adams!” The voices permeated the exterior walls reaching Bruce violently.  He stood erect and turned his head to the front door, placed the wooden spatula down on the kitchen counter and then turned to Rebbecca, sitting at the kitchen table, staring back.  Something was happening and it wasn’t good, thought Bruce. 

“This is the police Mr. Adams, open your door and come out”  The police? Bruce looked at Rebbecca once again shrugging his shoulders confused.

“Go on Bruce, open the door.” Rebbecca gestured aggressively to Bruce to proceed with the order but there was no time, with a loud thud followed by the cracking of wood, the front door abated to the ramming pole and flew open, barely remaining on it’s hinges. 

Sweat beads began to roll down Bruce’s face as they had so many times before, each time he recounted what happened.  He shifted in his seat attempting to reposition not his body but his mind, but to no avail.  Oh that look on Rebbecca’s face as he lay face down, his head ground into the carpet.  She was unrecognizable with all the contortions on her face, her disbelief.  He could still smell the aged musty leather from the boot that held him down.  Rebbecca’s uncontrollable, guttural thrashes of begging for them to let him go were the last time he heard her voice. 

“Mr. Adams!” a firm voice came from somewhere in the room.  “You are under arrest for the murder of  Susanne Gyles...."

Bruce heard no more after that pronouncement, everything was blurred and muffled and the world could have come to an end for all he cared, for it had for him.  Over the years Bruce came to blaming himself for causing Rebbecca to be left alone.  That was why she never came to see him, not once.  She believed she had been living with a monster, how else could he explain why she never even attended the trial. Bruce came to know that she outright refused to testify as a character witness.  It was madness to the point of denial, so he convinced himself, it wouldn’t have been good for her to be seen supporting him.  He anguished over her absence, he would have liked to have had the chance to tell her he was innocent, look her in the eyes, he was certain she would have believed him then.  Ultimately he needed to forgive her, it was vital to his sanity and after all she was the mother of his daughter… the daughter he never knew he had till three days ago.

“Her name is Amy,” his lawyer said.  “She’s ten”. 

He didn’t know how to respond when he first heard, so he sat in silence, it was too big for him to comprehend. He had vanished and she appeared. Bruce also forgave Rebbecca for not letting him know he had a child. It would have placed an unnecessary burden on Amy, and would have served no purpose. Yes she was a good mother.  He only wished she hadn’t given up on him so quickly.  A last touch, a few words would have gone a long way.  How could someone with so much love and care for him ever believe he could have committed such an execrable crime?  He would never have abandoned her, of that he was absolutely sure of.  Bruce agonized at remembering the good times with Rebbecca,  but the day of his arrest and the hatred it spurned from the world wouldn’t release his thoughts… she was part of it, part of the total repudiation. His pain was so deep he could barely hold on to just breathing as sweet memories with Rebbecca were vanquished forever.  There is only one thing, one thought that he could clinch on to…Amy.  He must focus on Amy, his past cannot eliminate her, she wasn’t a part of it. He was free to dream and create any thoughts of his daughter. She had been born to him on the birth of his freedom.  On this he would build.

The old bus labored arduously along on what seemed an endless road and it suited him just fine.  The natural grinding of  the worn gears along with the rattling and shaking of the fatigued metal played a symphony of freedom to Bruce’s ears, he wanted it to last forever, no need for it to end, it felt like a journey to nowhere.  How would he begin to piece together his life.  He knew he would have to take it one step at a time or it would overwhelm him… so they told him.  In those tortured sleepless moments of pacing his cell these last few nights Bruce had made the decision that his first step would be to see Amy and this unnerved him, this first step overwhelmed him.  He knew he faced a daunting task and he wasn’t up to the challenge.  How much hatred did Amy have for him?  What did she know?….how much did Rebbecca tell her?  Bruce felt his throat tighten and his muscles tense.  Did she known of his new found freedom and that he was not a monster, that she had nothing to fear of him as he would never harm anyone let alone her.  Bruce shifted position again, leaned forward stretching his back.  He went into his inside jacket pocket and drew out a piece of paper.  He unfolded it slowly and stared at the address written in scratchy long hand.  He could not go through with it, impossible, it couldn’t work. She may not even know of his existence, it would be best he not go.  As though released from his emotional bonds, a calmness embraced him and he settled back into the warmth of the sun and finally found sleep. 

Sundays were rarely different at the Doyle’s household, they were for quiet and reflection, days that held no particular importance or pretension.  Sundays were family days and over the years friends and family alike came to appreciate not to visit or expect a visit from the Doyles on Sundays.  This of course was no reflection on the level of the Doyle's affection toward the people they loved and cared for, it simply set aside a day for themselves and all family and friends needed to understand and accept it….like it or not, most did not.  Card games, board games and discussions were all part of the repertoire on this the family day and Amy came to enjoy the interaction with her parents and the comforting solitude Sundays brought.  On this Bright Sunday afternoon the Doyles were engaged in a lengthy game of Backgammon, a favorite of Amy's, although oddly enough she rarely won.  She was contemplating her next move when she glanced up and through the window noticed a taxi parked outside their front yard.  Her distraction was long enough for her step father to comment,

“Today Amy, lets play… or are you afraid I’m going to win…is that why you’re stalling?” 

“ There’s a taxi outside our yard”  Amy said in a quiet disconcerting manner as she continued to stare outside. 

Rebbecca and Adam nervously looked at each other, holding their breath.  They had spoken to Amy when the news came to them.  It was the toughest thing Rebbecca ever had to do, explain to her child that her biological father was not lost to her and …oh God to tell Amy all that had occurred was emotionally draining.  She had intentionally not spoken of her betrayal of Bruce, and she had prayed that her daughter would not ask,  she looked over at Amy.  She still wasn’t quite sure how Amy was truly feeling.  She hides her emotions so very well she thought.  Rebbecca stood up and moved toward the window while Adam from his vantage point simply leaned back in his chair and looked out.  Rebbecca’s heart almost imploded the instant she recognized his face staring out the taxi at the house, he hadn’t spotted her yet, thank God.  She never imagined it to be this powerful, not after all these years and especially not after all the nurturing of the hatred she developed for him.  The news of his innocence and freedom  came without warning,  shattering  the cocoon she had built for herself painfully over the years.  Suddenly all she thought she had become vaporized leaving her true self exposed awaiting judgment.  God what was it all for, how could it have happened!  It took all her strength to be able to look at him and not turn away in shame, but for Amy’s sake she had to remain calm…very calm.  In spite of it all he looked good, healthy…her heart wouldn’t stop she felt like she was shaking violently, did Adam notice it, did she betray her feelings? Feelings she shouldn’t still have.  Rebbecca turned slowly away from the window and looked at Amy who was looking right back, her eyes begging for something from her mother. 

“Now remember Sweetie we spoke about this”  a slight detectable quiver in her voice unveiled the tension she now felt.  With deliberate effort and poise Rebbecca moved in toward Amy and sat down next to her, placing a gentle grip onto her daughters arms, intentionally avoiding looking at Adam.

“Sir is this the right place?” the impatient taxi driver adjusted his review mirror to get a better look at Bruce, who was just staring out motionless. “I can’t just sit here without charging you” Bruce remained silent “Sir what do you want to do” at this point the driver physically twisted himself around as far as he could go to look at Bruce.

“It’s the right place.” Bruce replied without removing his gaze from the house. 
“Thirty five twenty”  the driver issued, stretching out his hand.
“I think I want to go somewhere else” Bruce slumbered out the words

The driver turned to face the front again. “ Its your dime, where to?”

Rebbecca and Amy had made their way back to the window and as they looked out they saw the taxi pull away slowly. At that exact moment  Bruce’s gaze fell upon Amy’s and instant tears obscured his vision and she was lost.  He hurriedly tried wiping off the tears to clear his sight but the current was to strong.  He felt he was choking again, finding it hard to breath.

“Stop...stop” His words barely audible through the choking and deep erratic breathing.  The taxi came to an abrupt halt. 

With panicked reaction the driver blurted “Hey are you alright, your not going to die on me are you” 

They heard the screeching of tires and saw as the taxi came to a stop a short distance down the road.  Nothing happened for what seemed an eternity,  not a word was spoken, not a body moved, just spell bound, eyes fixed on the taxi.  Bruce eventually lumbered out of the car, Amy’s eyes widened in amazement, she had envisioned this scenario so many times in her mind, in her dreams.  Her father….. her real father coming home to her.  Rebbecca had told her since she was a child that her real father had disappeared…simply disappeared and nobody knew why or where, till three days ago when her mother disclosed the truth, the ugly truth.  The painful truth of knowing the suffering her father endured all those years. The devastating void she felt all the time, constant emptiness.  Sure there was Adam and he was…he is a wonderful father but she always wondered about him,  now that he was here what would she do.

Bruce felt the absence of reality as he slowly made his way back to the house.  He could not feel the ground beneath him, he knew he was moving, just didn’t know how.  Brain commands to the body’s mechanics had malfunctioned.  “Don’t be a fool, this will only turn out bad.  Who are you to come here and think you can just have your little girl.” His brain incited “Stop….Stop” His brain insisted, but to no avail as there was a mutiny underway and his heart now controlled his movement and it was powerful.  As he approached the front yard he had to quickly place his hands on his knees to brace himself as he slumped over.  His breath was short and loud, crying out for mercy with every exhale.  Amy…Amy his thoughts raced looping her name in his mind.  I have to go on, I have to know.

“Mommy What’s wrong with him?”  Amy felt a pang in her heart.  This man she had never known had instantly found a place in her heart, and she wanted to meet him so badly. 

“I don’t know sweetheart.”  But Rebbecca could just imagine how Bruce was feeling, cause she to felt the same weakness, the anxiety and the incredible anticipation of seeing him again. She fell victim to the same symptoms. 
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”  Will he…Will she?.  “Come on.” Rebbecca guided Amy toward the front door.

Pull yourself together! Come on pull it together!  This seemed a reasonable attempt at controlling himself.  He stood up straight looked toward the front door and began walking up the slated pathway that would lead him to Heaven… or Hell.  Once again  Bruce stopped in his tracks, why am I doing this, she’s happy, I’m just going to confuse her life…I really should go, I should think about her …not me!  It didn’t take much to persuade him.  At this very moment Bruce felt an ease come over him again, his nerves were calm, his breathing stable.  Yes this made sense, it’s the only way it can be…should be.  He felt clear headed, he could even smell the fragrances from the flowers around him.  Bruce gave a quick gaze in the direction of the window as he turned to walk, there was no one looking back,… just the way it should be he thought.  He had hardly taken a couple of steps when he heard a clicking of the knob as the door opened.  The sound exploded in his brain, echoing through his body at full volume, ravaging his momentary state of peace as he froze with death like stillness, no breath entered or left his lungs, he was petrified.  Here was the moment, this very moment, the moment of confronting everything he was, his life, his love, his soul – his very existence.  His past and his future was now squarely in front of him, to deal with.








 
















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