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His Brother's Atonement

By Amy Lynn Walsh

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"Mom?  Why is that man over there staring at us?" Jayson whispered as he tugged at the bottom of Aubrey's jacket. 
​Aubrey looked in the direction her six-year-old son was pointing and drew in a shallow breath.  Seeing the tall man with dark, wavy hair peering over the park fence, she felt a rush of coldness wash over her like the brisk autumn air.  Her stomach churned.  Her legs felt weak.  ​"No!" she agonized in a whisper, as her eyes connected with deep-set, light-colored eyes that she would have known anywhere, "It can't be him.  He won't be released for several more years."
​When she felt Jayson throw his arms around her thighs and squeeze in fright, she felt courage build within her. "Hey, little man. It's okay.  I didn't mean to scare you. I am just talking to myself. Let's head home and see what Nana is making for supper." ​Aubrey resolutely turned her back to the man and reached for her son's hand. Then, determined to show no fear, she calmly led the way to their blue hatchback in the small parking lot on the other side of the only playground in their small town of Engelmann, Wyoming.  Now she was in full-on mommy mode.  Even if it is somehow possible that that man is Lucas Phillips, there is no way he would cause trouble with the other parents and children here as witnesses, Aubrey told herself. ​As she drove the few blocks back to her parents' home, where she and Jayson had their basement apartment, she made a point of making normal conversation. "Anything eventful happen in the Land of Kindergarten today?" ​"Benson spilled his chocolate milk on Layla's paper! So, she scribbled all over his scarecrow!" Jayson announced with zest. "She did it with black crayon.  No erasers for black crayon!" ​"Oh, dear!  What did Mrs. Wheeler do?" ​"She brought Benson and Layla up to her desk and whispered to them.  Then they worked together to clean up."  ​"That's good.  So, Benson and Layla are friends again?" ​"Yes.  During free time, I helped Benson start a new scarecrow for the contest!" ​"Aww, sweetie!  That was so nice of you!"  ​"Look at that pile of leaves Grampa is raking!" Jayson shouted as they pulled into the driveway. "Can I help him?" ​"I am sure he wouldn't mind!  Maybe he will even let you run and jump into them!"
​Jayson unbuckled quicker than Aubrey could tell him to remember his jacket.  He darted past Aubrey as soon as she opened his door.  Though she was still struggling to subdue her panic, Aubrey gave a half-smile.  It was good to see her son enjoying the same maple tree she had loved as a child, from the tire swing that dangled from its widest branch to the treehouse her father had made for her tenth birthday. Right now, the gigantic pile of red, yellow, and brown leaves that her father had raked up beneath it would be irresistible to any child. ​She grabbed her work bag and Jayson's backpack, then waved a greeting to her dad. "Is it okay if Jayson stays out here with you for a few minutes?" ​"Don’t be silly!” her dad called back and then gave Jayson a bearhug and swung him around while Jayson whooped and hollered, his legs outstretched. ​Aubrey walked into the Craftsman home her father and mother had lovingly refinished when Aubrey was a child.  The spicey smell of chili made her stomach growl.  Somehow the clinking of her mother washing silverware and the whirring of the fan above the stove was comforting.  The sounds reminded her of Dr. Henry teaching her the 54321 Method for dealing with panic attacks:  When you feel like you will give into fear, look for five things you can see, Aubrey.  Then focus on four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, one thing you can taste.  Change your channel.  And if you still aren’t coping, start all over again. ​ During those months before Jayson was born, Dr. Henry had been so helpful.  Aubrey had been so traumatized from the assault that she would wake up struggling to breathe in the middle of the night. She had been afraid to leave her parents’ house, even having to finish her college degree online. But slowly, her counseling sessions, the love of her parents, the prayers of her church congregation, and the passage of time had brought her to the point where Aubrey had wanted to resume living.  And when Aubrey held Jayson in her arms for the first time, she had finally been able to let go of her anger enough to thank God for the beautiful gift He had given her – the result of the darkest moment of her life. ​If it was Lucas Phillips at the park, Heavenly Father, then give me strength and courage to face what is to come.  Protect Jayson and all of us.  Help me to trust you, Aubrey prayed silently. ​“Honey, what’s wrong?” Aubrey’s mother, Natalie, hurriedly dried her hands and rushed over to where Aubrey was standing with her head slightly bent by the kitchen door.  ​“Lucas Phillips may have been at the park just now,” Aubrey’s voice trembled. ​Natalie’s eyes widened, her rosy cheeks paled, and she gasped. ​“I mean, it’s doubtful, right?  He must still be in prison.” ​“You haven’t gotten any emails from the Department of Corrections, have you?” Natalie asked. “If Phillips were out of prison, you would have been notified.” ​“It’s been a while since I checked my personal email,” Aubrey admitted.  She put Jayson’s backpack in the corner and retrieved her laptop from her messenger bag. “I’ll check right now.” ​Natalie followed Aubrey into the living room. They both sank onto the grey loveseat facing the sizeable electric fireplace Aubrey and her father had purchased for Natalie last Christmas.  ​Aubrey quickly switched from her work email to aubreyandersartist@gmail.com. “I should be checking regularly, I know.  But the last thing I feel like doing when I get home from work is getting back on the internet!”  ​“I understand.  And you do marvelously at turning off work and focusing on Jayson every night, honey.  No matter what, everything will be okay.” Natalie put her arm around Aubrey’s back and pulled her into her side. ​Feeling comforted by her mother’s embrace, Aubrey typed “Lucas Phillips” into the search bar of her Gmail.  She felt as though her heart was sinking into her stomach when she saw the subject line, “Change in Custody Status.” Why hadn’t she checked her email?  This email was sent over six months ago!  Lucas Phillips could have been watching us all this time!  He could have shown up at Jayson’s school and tried to take him!  He could have followed me during my morning jogs and…and…and done it again.  He could have... Aubrey began to take rapid, shallow breaths. ​“Sweetie!  It is going to be alright.” Natalie began to run her fingers through Aubrey’s light brown waves gently and soothingly. “Open up the email and see what it says.” ​This email from the Wyoming Department of Corrections is to inform you that there has been a change in custody status for offender Lucas Phillips, identified as number 82496185322; the email began.   ​Aubrey closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

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