Xavier and Earl
Earl began organizing the various pieces of jewelry by type and color for the third time, giving Xavier sidelong glances every so often. Xavier sat in a chair behind the counter, rocking back onto two legs of the chair and fingering a photograph. Whistling nonchalantly, Earl edged his way closer and closer to his friend. Xavier remained absorbed with his photo. As his whistling waned, Earl looked over Xavier's shoulder to see what had so fixated his friend's attention. After seeing the subject of the picture though, he shook his head slowly and walked back towards the shelves of digital cameras.
“She's out there, Earl,” Xavier said quietly, not looking up from the photograph.
“Xavier,” Earl began with a sigh.
“She is out there,” Xavier repeated, crinkling the corners of the photo.
“You've got to let her go, man,” continued his friend as he let the cameras be. “There's nothing more you can do.”
“But she's still waiting to be found!”
Kicking over the chair as he got up, Xavier shoved the picture in Earl's face.
“Look at her! You're just going to give up on her?!”
Earl pushed Xavier's hands away and tried to move past him towards the depths of the shop. Xavier grabbed his shoulder as he passed, turning him back towards the photo. As Earl attempted to move away, Xavier tightened his hold on his friend's shoulder.
“Look … at … her,” Xavier seethed.
“She's dead, Xav. Accept it!” Earl broke out, ripping away his shoulder and grabbing both of Xavier's shoulders in his turn. “You can't let your guilt control you like this. You're going to drive yourself insane. Some people have even already started discussing committing you to Rigby Range.”
He snatched the photo from Xavier's hand and turned it so Xavier was confronted by its image.
“Is this what Sarah would want? You obsessing over Jemma? Losing your hold on reality?”
Xavier stared at the photo, wellsprings forming in his eyes. With a quivering hand, he reached up and took the picture from Earl. Earl released both the photo and his friend's shoulder, moving to lean against the counter. Xavier held the picture in both hands as rivers ran down his face.
“Do you remember taking this picture?”
“'Course I do. It was a week before the accident.”
“We were having a picnic to celebrate Sarah getting into veterinary school. Jemma had helped me make a cake for her.”
A smile quivered across Xavier's face.
“She … she insisted that we write 'conga-rats' instead of 'congratulations' because it had animals in the name. Sarah just about died laughing when she saw it.”
“I remember you freaking out that you'd forgotten the napkins and utensils when it came time to eat it,” Earl added, a smile playing around his mouth.
“Yes,”laughed Xavier as he wiped his face with his shoulder. “I thought I'd ruined everything. But Sarah and Jemma … thy just looked at each other and grabbed handfuls of cake. Like mother, like daughter. They never saw a problem without finding a solution.”
Dropping one hand on the counter to support himself, Xavier covered his eyes with his other arm, his hand clutching the photograph. His breathing grew ragged. Earl watched his friend and dug around in his pocket.
“I can't lose her, Earl. I barely have Sarah and I promised her … I promised her I'd take care of Jemma until she woke up. How can I face her now? How can I say I lost the best thing that ever happened to her?”
Hearing a crackling sound, he removed his arm and looked toward his friend. Earl was holding out a peppermint. Xavier took the mint, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. Setting the photo on the counter, he tried to smooth out the corners. Earl wrapped his arm around Xavier's shoulders.
“You'll cross that bridge when you get there,” counseled Earl. “For now, just be there for Sarah. Focus on what you can do for those who are still here.”
Xavier nodded and continued smoothing the picture, pausing at times to stroke the faces of a smiling blonde young woman and a laughing brown-haired girl.
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