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Moving On

By Deborah Pierson Dill

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Bobby sat on the cold, hard steel bench in the holding cell of the Blithe County jail. He rested his elbows on his knees and pressed his balled fists to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut against the harsh, fluorescent lights overhead. The officer who processed him asked if he was ready to make his phone call, but he wasn’t. Who would he call, anyway? Not Audrey. He needed to think. He needed to sit here until the alcoholic fog lifted a little and he could sort out this mess.

What had just happened? What had he done? He had been arrested on charges of DWI and assault—his first arrest on either count, though certainly not his first offense. He unballed his fists and buried his face in his hands. What happened to all his great intentions to change, to stop drinking, to stop pushing Audrey around? He’d been doing so well these past few weeks. What happened this afternoon?

He released a heavy sigh and leaned back against the cinderblock wall, knowing.

The news of the fire at the Rhodes’ house had spread quickly. He heard about it on his lunch hour and had fought the urge to drive out and offer help right then. He wanted Audrey to call him, to need him. He expected her to. He spent the rest of the afternoon compulsively checking voicemail to make sure he hadn’t missed her call, getting angrier with each notification of no new messages. She never called. Why would she with Brent there?

By the time his shift at the feed store ended, he’d been so mad he wasn’t thinking straight anymore. He drove back to his mother’s house and delved into the case of beer in her fridge without giving a single thought to what he was doing. It had been his brother, Tommy, who tossed the match onto the fumes in his soul.

“You just gonna let it go?” Tommy had taunted him. “You know, I drove by there earlier. It looked like half the town was out there, with Brent Thomason taking charge. You just planning on letting him have her? After all the years you spent with her, are you just gonna sit by and let him take your place?”

Bobby raised a hand and dragged it across his chin. It hadn’t taken much at that point to rile him. The alcohol had done its work, like always.

“God, I’m….” He let the whispered words trail off. I’m what?

Worthless?

Useless?

Detestable?

Yes. He was all those things. He had never disputed that fact. And he tried so hard, but he couldn’t seem to break free from his old man’s way of living. It shouldn’t be so hard. He had decided to change, and now it should just be a matter of doing it. So why couldn’t he?

Countless times as a kid he’d cried himself to sleep after a beating, vowing that he would not turn into his father. That if he ever had a family, children, he would never lay a finger on them in anger. They would never have a reason to fear or hate him. All he ever aspired to be was the exact opposite of his father. Yet he turned out just like him, and no amount of effort on his part could ever change that.

“God, please….” He pressed his head back against the cold, cinderblock wall and looked heavenward, desperation nearly driving him onto his knees.

He had never been a praying man. He’d never seen the point. There was no way God would ever listen to him or take an interest. Not after all the vile things he’d done. But the simple phrase slipped out before he could lend a thought to it. And now that it was out there he couldn’t help feeling a tiny whisper of hope. Maybe something could change. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

“Please, God…” He ventured to reach out again. “Help me.”

He knew he’d be spending tonight in here, and he’d most likely face an arraignment tomorrow with a court-appointed attorney at his side. But that wasn’t what he petitioned God about now. Tomorrow he would plead guilty because he was. Hopefully, the judge would give him a fine or probation, or maybe both. His brother had been through this enough times that he knew what to expect.

But he was guilty of so much more than the charges landing him here tonight. And his heart and soul pled guilty to all of it, crying out now for forgiveness and healing even though it was the last thing he deserved.

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