Henry's End (24 page)

“I know, right? I was thinking it will totally pay for the vacation and the rest we should put toward a down payment fund.”

“Down payment for what?”

Henry smiled, “At some point we might want to move.”

Quinn looked lost.

And Henry’s smile grew exponentially. “I don’t know, I was thinking a small backyard. Somewhere with enough room for one of those wooden playscapes that looks like a fort. Someplace where the schools are good.”

“Mr. Clark, where is this coming from?” Quinn’s smile was contagious.

Pointing a finger at Quinn, “Just know this, first we will be filling up pages in those passports with many stamps.”

“It sounds like we’re now in a position to do that.”

“Yes, we are,” Henry corroborated, “so let’s start working on it this weekend and figure out the details.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And I’ll need you home early on the twenty-third, that reception at The Marine Room starts at seven.”

“You’ve got it.” Quinn sat back down on the floor next to one of the bicycles and picked up the chain checker.

As Henry walked over to the sliding glass door, he turned around, “Oh and Quinn, one more thing.”

Quinn looked up, smiling, “There’s more?” he sassed.

“It’s black tie.”

“Seriously?” He looked pained.

Henry nodded, thinking about how handsome he was going to look. “I can’t wait to see you in a tux.”

Quinn was silent for a moment, his eyes walking all over Henry just as they did on the day they met. “I can’t wait to get you out of your tux.”

Standing in the bathroom, Henry struggled to get his cufflinks through the miniscule holes on the starched shirt cuffs and knew he was not going to have an easier time with his bowtie. Finally, he put the cufflinks down, he’d get Quinn to put them in for him and flip the fastening bar. He was definitely going to need Quinn to tie the bowtie that was hanging open around his neck, that was a given.

Running some mousse through his hair to tame it, he stood before the mirror and took some deep, cleansing breaths. Surprised that he was as nervous as he was, the importance of the night was really beginning to hit him. He was making a big statement tonight bringing his gay lover to the company’s awards banquet. He hoped in doing this, maybe other gay and lesbian staff members might feel more comfortable sharing joyous work occasions with their significant other at their side.

When the doorbell rang, he laughed and shook his head. Quinn was picking up their matching boutonnieres from the florist and he could just imagine him on the other side of the door balancing the two plastic containers holding the delicate flowers, afraid one would drop and get damaged if he tried to dig out the key in his pocket. It was so Quinn.

In his tux pants and shirt, with his bowtie hanging open, waiting for Quinn to tie it for him, Henry made his way across the apartment, smiling. “Two boutonnieres and a key is too much for you to…” He flung open the door, the rest of his sentence hung in mid-air. Unfinished.

Their faces and their eyes gave the complete story and he knew the answer to the question that he never needed to ask, but reflexively did. “Where’s Quinn?” Alarm in his first query. Anguish after that, “Where’s Quinn?” his voice reverberated down the hall.

Terry looked down, his shoulders heaving in heavy sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Henry looked from Derek to Willie, their eyes swollen with anguish. “What happened? Somebody please tell me what happened,” he begged, because this could not be happening. Quinn was coming home with boutonnieres, not in a body bag.

“What happened?” Henry was now on his couch surrounded by the officers, although he had no recollection of moving out of the doorway. “Wasn’t he wearing his vest?”

“He was,” Derek confirmed.

“Oh God, no.” Henry fought back the nausea. If he was wearing his vest…

“It was just a DV,” Terry began, his voice shell shocked as began to relay the details of what they thought was a routine domestic violence call. “We’d been to this address before, the guy was a hot head but it had never escalated to anything. He and his old lady just usually needed to calm down.”

“But what happened this time?” Henry looked from cop to cop wanting the story to change, for someone to give him an alternate ending. Tell him Quinn just didn’t want to wear a tux tonight.

“We got up on the porch and rang the bell. The door flew open and there was the guy, gun pointed and cocked. He got off his first,” Terry’s words choked in his throat, a new stream of tears making their way down his face, “and only, shot before either of us could draw our weapons.”

“Point blank?” Henry’s breathing was becoming rapid as the air in the room dissipated. He felt like he was on a mountain peak 15,000 feet up and he’d cycled too hard.

Willie got up and went into the kitchen, returning with a cold bottle of water for Henry.

“Yes.” Terry’s voice was barely a whisper.

“To the head?” He needed to know what happened to his wonderful Quinn.

Terry just nodded, unable to verbalize as he broke down, the vision of what happened clearly ripping his heart out and macerating it, a nightmare that would remain in his soul forever.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Henry envisioned Quinn’s last second and was glad he didn’t suffer.
His last second. How can any of this be real? Quinn gone? Just like that. How could that even be possible? Tonight we’re celebrating. He was going to be standing next to me, my beautiful partner in his classic black tux playing up the beauty of those pale blue eyes that make me melt every time I look into them. I’m not going to look into them again? Quinn can’t be dead.

“I’d give anything…” Terry looked Henry in the eyes.

Nodding, “I know you would. And Quinn knows that, too.”

Derek’s big arm was around his shoulder and he looked from man to man. Quinn wasn’t just a fallen comrade. He was their friend. Their brother.

“The guy? What happened to the guy?”

“Gone.” Terry’s eyes looked dead.

Henry just nodded, attempting to process. Quinn was not ever going to sit next to him on this couch again. How could that be? How could any of this be? “Jeanne and Katelyn? Do they know? Have they been told?” Henry panicked at the thought of their pain.

“The Captain wanted us to call him after we spoke to you. He and the chaplain are going to meet us there. He thought you’d be more comfortable hearing it from the three of us.” Derek explained.

Henry nodded, “I’m going with you.”

As he stood, the room spun from the motion and he stilled himself, employing his Yoga techniques to regain his equilibrium.

Reaching the door, he looked back. Everything looked the same. Nothing in the apartment was moved or different, nothing askew or awry. Except that he’d never see Quinn in their home again. He wasn’t going to fall asleep with Quinn’s legs tangled with his. Ever again. How could that be?

He sat in the row behind Jeanne and Katelyn in the church. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Jeanne feel uncomfortable in her house of worship, surrounded by her relatives and her priest. Knowing the Catholic Church’s view on homosexuality, he didn’t want to do anything to add to her stress.

Edwin sat on his left, his hand on top of Henry’s left hand. Schooner was on his right, his left arm slung over Henry’s shoulder. Next to Schooner was his wife, CJ, and beyond her sat Schooner’s parents, Dee and Gavin. Henry’s mother and sister didn’t make it down.

Staring straight ahead, preternaturally calm in an eerie sort of way, Henry was focused on something in the distance, though most likely not the priest’s words, as he conducted a High Mass. In Henry’s lap sat a small, black day pack, which he held tightly with both hands.

Edwin and Schooner were having an entire conversation around him, mouthing the words to one another as Henry sat oblivious to their exchange.

“What’s in the pack?” Edwin mouthed, his eyes darting to Henry’s lap.

Schooner shook his head, “I don’t know,” he mouthed back.

“He’s scaring me,” Edwin’s eyes shifted to Henry.

“I know.” Schooner rubbed Henry’s shoulder softly.

The ornate church was filled to capacity. Law enforcement from all over the state were in attendance, as were elected officials and far reaching members of the Callahan clan. The turnout to say goodbye to the fallen officer brought an odd comfort, as if hiding in ritual would bring some answers that would never actually come, but as long as the voices droned on, goodbye was still a breath away.

Henry was glad that it had been a closed casket wake because actually seeing Quinn lying in there was more than he knew he could handle. At least this way, he told himself, he could pretend his Quinn, who wrapped around him like the missing puzzle piece that completed a beautiful picture, was not lying there hard and stiff and lifeless in that box. He could pretend this whole surreal thing didn’t even involve his Quinn, until the first skirl of the bagpipes soared to the church’s vaulted rafters to accompany Quinn’s departure from the building. With the unmistakable opening notes of
Amazing Grace,
there was no pretending anymore.

Taking a deep gasping breath, Henry tried unsuccessfully to fight the tears, holding on tighter to the day pack.

Edwin squeezed his hand firmly, and Schooner looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to fight his own tears and stay strong for his friend, but as the pipes cut to the quick, there was no turning back from emotion or from the reason they were there.

With an honor guard of pallbearers carrying the coffin from the church, Jeanne and Katelyn fell in step behind it. Jeanne looked over at Henry, her eyes shrouded from the swelling of her lids. She appeared to be reaching out for him to join her, when a relative grabbed her hand, flanking her side, and pulling her into the rhythm as they followed the coffin. Edwin was having none of that, as he pulled Henry into the line to ensure he have his rightful place as they escorted Quinn from the building.

Exiting the dark church, the bright morning sunlight was blinding, but Henry’s eyes had adjusted enough to see them load the casket into the hearse. A low moan escaped his throat as the bright sun overhead cast harsh shadows on the undeniable truth.

From the steps, Henry could see Jeanne scanning the crowd before being escorted into the limo. She was followed by a rush of relatives Henry had never seen at family events over the last few years, who crushed into the long, black stretch limousine with her.
Who were these people?
He felt as if they were widening a gulf that was becoming impossible for him to get across, pulling Quinn even farther away from him.

Feeling Schooner’s arm around his shoulder, he looked at his friend blank-faced, not knowing what to do next as the hearse began to pull away, accompanied by a full police escort, with an impossibly long procession beginning to wind behind it.

“CJ is going back to Jeanne’s house with my parents. She’s been on the phone with caterers all week. You two will ride with me. Come on.”

Traffic was halted throughout the city for Quinn’s procession, and the route was lined with citizens waving American flags.

“Quinn would’ve liked this. He loved when people came out and cheered us on the route for the bike challenge. Except those were rainbow flags,” Henry noted.

“What an amazing turnout,” Edwin marveled, “and there must’ve been at least 500 people in the church. He was very well loved.”

Henry nodded, “Yeah, he was,” and he looked out the window at the line of people who came out to say goodbye to his love. “I hope we don’t miss the graveside service,” Henry was beginning to show agitation.

“I think we’re OK.” Schooner looked into the rearview mirror. “There are a load of cars behind us with their lights on and the police escort will wrap up after the last car and radio ahead.”

“They are not starting without you, don’t worry.” Sitting in the back seat, directly behind Henry, Edwin gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Lifting his sunglasses, Schooner peered into the rearview mirror to catch Edwin’s gaze. This situation was becoming more heartbreaking by the second for fear that Henry’s rightful place would not be recognized.