Weeping Ground

by Subjective Reality

Dislcaimer: This story was written for entertainment purposes only and is not intended to infringe upon any rights held by any holders of the rights to The Magnificent Seven. No money was made from this story.

Please do not use or distribute without my permission.


His howling cries of rage echoed off the walls which stood as quiet observers well used to such displays. They were covered in the names of the dead, lost early and forgotten even earlier. Names written in various colors and script. Faceless souls given substance on walls surrounding what had become sacred ground. Locals came here solemnly mourning their way of life and the lives lost in it. It was called the weeping ground. The air seemed thicker here, sound more muted. The air was shaded by the walls of the buildings which created it. The air was crisp here even on the hottest day of summer. The narrow alleyways that led to the mystical square provided a walkway between the living and the dead. Rare was the occasion that the ground was littered or defaced. In a community where little was held in reverence, the weeping ground demanded it.

People often came to the ground seeking answers. The howling one found the answer of death--a finality he did not want to accept and one which the seeker embraced as his home. The walls seemed to vibrate in anticipation of another name, an ever-expanding universe. His piercing cries would not stop the expansion.

Josiah flinched as Vin kicked over a garbage can, swearing as he mindlessly picked up the trash and flung it from him. He hesitated to intervene knowing that such a lapse in control indicated a depth of hurt he couldn't reach. However, as Vin began to kick and pummel the wall. Josiah wrapped his arms around him and refused to let go as the body struggled and the head flayed. The howling rage continued to pour out until sobs wracked the body and Josiah allowed him to fall to his knees. The silence was deafening following the painful mourning which preceded it. Josiah looked on helplessly as Vin's body shuddered with his grief. He walked to the edge of the weeping ground and called for help. Any words he might offer would not soothe the anguish in the man before him but he knew someone who could reach him.

Chris hesitated at the edge of the ground. He hated this place, felt the black void of it pulling more lives. The sorrow was its own life here, thick with regret and pity. Chris knew from experience that the pity was as much for the living as for the dead. He shook the dark thoughts from him and focused on the figure of his friend. A man who he believed could never be broken was collapsed unto himself, pressed against the walls as if waiting for them to enfold him. It was the fear of seeing Vin's name emblazed on these damn walls that forced his feet forward. His friend might falter but he would not fail.

He laid his hand on the back of Vin's neck and slid down the wall beside him. He didn't utter a word, just allowed his presence to provide an anchor. Vin felt Chris' concern as clearly as if he had spoken it. He took several deep breaths and shut his eyes trying to gain some of the control for which he was notorious. He felt so full of pain that it took focus just to draw the next breath. His life had narrowed down to a suffocating grief for a boy who had never found life. He didn't know how to sort his feelings and gain control, and now with Chris present, he felt his reserve falter because he knew Chris was there to hold all the pieces together.

He opened his eyes and looked to see Chris patiently waiting for him, ready to offer whatever he needed. The only problem was he didn't know what that was. He had seen violence and waste and death more times than he could recall. In many ways he held himself remote from it, knowing such was part of life. But now he found himself leveled by the loss a boy he could not save. Not the first child he had lost, and God help him, it wouldn't be the last either. But this loss pulled at his core and left him drowning. He felt the heat of Chris' hand on the nape of his neck, felt his strength encircle him, and he held on to it knowing that it might be the only thing that gave him the strength to keep breathing.

Chris rubbed his thumb softly on Vin's neck, trying to soothe the trembling he felt. His resolve to help his friend strengthened as Vin looked at him and showed him nothing but despair. He would never let anything beat Vin, not death or these god forsaken walls that shouted the names of all the lives that had been lost. And so he and Vin sat and waited for Chris' presence to fortify him so that he could stand with the strength that had marked his life. He would not be broken.

Part 1
One Month Earlier

He watched the two men talking in the black Ram truck. The man with the long hair waved as he got out of the truck and went up the front steps of the apartment complex. He turned as he opened the door and shook his head as the man in the truck waited until he was safely inside. The man in the truck waited for another few minutes. The boy wasn't sure what he was waiting on but he eventually drove away. The boy turned and went to his apartment wishing he had someone who cared whether he made it home alright.

He and his mother had just moved here a week before. His mother was hiding from a dealer she had stolen from when she couldn't afford her next hit and the withdraw was killing her. Desperation gave birth to courage or stupidity depending on whether she got caught. The boy had learned very quickly when they arrived that it was different. The people on the streets around the apartment buildings were not selling drugs or guns or themselves. The children played hop scotch on the sidewalks and basketball in the alleyway between the two apartment buildings. The graffiti on the walls was artistic rather than defacing. The boy learned most of the tenants watched out for one another and didn't close their doors when a child expressed fear.

He felt the first stirrings of hope until he opened the door to the darkened apartment. He walked in the kitchen but there was no food there. He walked in the living room but it was vacant. He found his mother sprawled on a soiled mattress on the floor; the needle still inserted in her arm as she escaped their world. He closed the door and moved to the window in the living room so he could look out. He needed to find food.

His heart raced as he stepped out in the street. It was 11:30 at night and he knew that nothing good ever came from the streets at night. But his aching stomach reminded him that he only needed to go to the nearest trash cans and see what he might find. It was terrifying being in a new place. You didn't know who to look out for or where to hide.

He slipped into the alleyway where the children had been playing basketball and lifted the lid off the first trash can when he didn't see anyone. He was so focused on sorting through the trash that he didn't hear anyone come up behind him. He screamed as if struck when a soft voice reached his ears. He jerked around looking for an escape but the long-haired man was blocking the alleyway.

"It's okay," the man stated softly, arms held away from his body and hands up. He wasn't fooled. He darted around the man and ran back in his apartment building. He only found his breath when he slammed his door behind him and latched the lock. He slid down the door trying to hear if the man had followed. His fear caused his stomach to ache even more and he began to cry.

He awoke to the light streaming in the living room window. He stood cautiously and peeked out the door to confirm that there was no one there, his fear from the night before still weighing on him. He sighed at the empty hallway and was closing the door when he noticed several bags in front of it. He looked more carefully in the hallway before he opened the door wider and drug the bags in before slamming the door shut again. He frantically opened a loaf of bread in the bag and began eating. Once he was sated, he looked through the bags and found cans of soup and vegetables and juice. He was already trying to figure out how to open the cans when he spotted a can opener in the second bag.

He took the bags in the kitchen and opened a can of soup. They didn't have dishes so he carried the can to his mother's room. He froze when he stepped in the room. She was always so still when she slept that he feared she was dead. But he saw the slight rise and fall of her chest; her shirt draped over bones. He looked at her arm and shuddered at the pus and marred flesh. She often had a hard time finding a vein but was willing to look anywhere to get one. He ignored the swollen and discolored skin as he walked over to her.

"Mom, I've got something for you to eat," he whispered. Despite repeated efforts, he only received the slightest groan and then a finally a voice which told him to fuck off. He sat on the bed by her mattress and ate the soup while he watched her breath.

Part 2

It had been several weeks but the boy proved largely unapproachable. He was wary of kindness and sough refuge in the darkened apartment with his mother who had forgotten his presence.

"I don't know what else to do Josiah. I keep leavin' him food. The other kids tried to get 'im to play but he's holed up. I see 'im watchin' me but he spooks when I approach 'im."

"It seems to me you're doing all you can. It takes time to trust, you know that," Josiah replied.

"Yeah I do but there's something empty about Raymond," Vin replied quietly. They sat in silence before Vin's raspy voice broke it. "I wonder where those people are that was against abortion when the kids need 'em after they're born."

And Josiah suddenly knew why Vin was experiencing such a hard time with Raymond. Lord help them all, Raymond wasn't the first child any of them had seen struggling to survive and who was all but forgotten. In their own way, they each tried to help the children they knew. However, their job didn't allow a lot of down time and they were practical enough and selfish enough to know that they had to spend time enjoying life so that their spirits could be refueled. It was too difficult working a job that showed the underbelly of life and a justice system which was no better than a band aid over a gapping wound not to take time for yourself. They couldn't help every child they saw, and they knew that you were often legally limited in providing any help at all.

Vin's background had well-educated him on the shortcomings of the social services system and that such shortcomings could not be easily remedied. A lifetime of teaching himself to isolate his feelings and view the actions of others with a detached perspective served him well in sustaining his spirit in the rapid currents of his life. At the core of Vin's strength was the belief that life was a gift. Even as he struggled, he saw his life as an opportunity to hope and develop. As long as you could draw breath, you had a chance. And now one boy who was faltering in the currents of life was causing Vin to question the very genesis of the gift he held fiercely. Should a child be deprived of the gift before they struggled and suffered, before they were lost?

"That's a valid question. I suppose people are sometimes short-sighted or so focused on achieving one goal that they don't think of all the consequences," Josiah replied.

"How do they think that a woman who doesn't wanna have a baby is suddenly gonna care?"

"I think they hope that they might give the child up to a family who does want them. I think that they hope when they hold a miracle in their hands and realize the absolute power they have over that child, that they will find the road to being responsible."

"I reckon they oughta hang around a while to be sure it happens before they pat themselves on the back that another baby's been born."

"I guess that's true but I suspect that they think there is a social services system and people in the community that will serve that role."

"Well then they need to stroll the streets of Purgatorio and see how well that theory's workin' out," Vin exclaimed.

Josiah moved closer to Vin and put a hand on his shoulder. "We all wish we could protect the innocent. We've met people that we ache in our need to go back in time and make things right. But we're human and flawed and so people suffer and we try to make the suffering less. It doesn't right the wrongs but maybe it decreases the losses."

Vin pulled away angrily refusing to be mollified. "Damn it Josiah, don't you think I know that? I've seen the good and bad. But I see a kid like Raymond and you gotta wonder iff'in he wouldn't have been better off never to have known the emptiness he lives. That boy is like a ghost skirtin' along the edges of life, like he don't think he belongs. That ain't right and I can't fix it. I can't help 'im," Vin trailed off.

Josiah bowed his head knowing that he couldn't fix it either. But he vowed that the boy before him would remain in the midst of life and know joy and love. He couldn't change Vin's past but he could be a constant in his future.

Part 3

"Heard I might find you here," Vin said to Raymond. The boy sat in the middle of the weeping ground looking at the walls surrounding him. Vin felt some victory that the boy didn't immediately leave. However, the look the boy gave him made Vin feel like he was some alien that the boy couldn't figure out.

When the boy failed to respond verbally, Vin moved slightly forward and sat down leaving a wide breadth between them. "Okay if I sit here?"

The boy nodded slightly and continued sitting peacefully, breathing deeply of the air around them. Vin settled into the silence and allowed the thickness of the place to surround him. He looked at the names and remembered some faces and felt shame that others were no more than letters on a wall. You needed a scaffold or ladder to add names now. It was overwhelming to think of all the lost lives in this small community.

Vin startled when the boy spoke. "What did all these people do to get their names here?"

"Just lived here," Vin replied.

"All you do is live here and they put your name up there for all time?" the boy asked in awe.

"Yep, it's our way of remembering those who don't live here no longer."

"They must have done something special for people to want to put their names here."

Vin pondered the question and wondered how honest to be with the boy. He looked in the lonely eyes and knew that there was nothing he could say to the boy that he hadn't seen.

"I reckon everyone's special in some way. Tom Smyth was the owner of the corner drug store for twenty years. Alicia Gaines was the baby of Teresa that lives on the third floor of your building. Alicia was born with a heart defect and died five days after she was born. Juan Lopas was a thug that got killed by the police when he was robbing a store. Marie Hortes died quietly in her sleep after seeing seventy-one years on these streets. Reckon their names are up there because they lived here and looking at their names reminds us of the way of life here. Some of it's good and some of it's bad, but it’s life."

"They won't ever be forgotten," the boy said almost as an oath.

"Reckon not," Vin agreed.

They lapsed into silence again. Finally the late hour changed the cool air to cold. "Want to get something to eat?" Vin asked. "My treat."

But the boy was already shaking his head and rising. Vin stood as well and stepped slightly in front of the boy's path. "You need anything?" Vin asked and felt grief ripple through him at the pain such a question caused in the boy.

The boy's eyes filled with tears. It was too much, the peace of this place and the long-haired man offering him something that he couldn't grasp. Raymond shook his head and shuffled past Vin to go home. If his mother was back, he would eat a can of soup and watch her sleep. And if she wasn't, he could watch for her from the window. He knew what to expect at the apartment.

Part 4

"Want to grab some lunch?" Chris asked Vin. The other team members were out in the field and only the two of them were left. Vin looked up and saw Chris' concern for him and couldn't bring himself to turn down the offer even when he just wanted to close up in himself, so he nodded and grabbed his jacket.

"How's the report on the Jackson case coming?" Chris asked.

"Well hell Chris, iif'in you asked me to lunch to bust my balls 'bout work, you better be buyin'."

"Shit Tanner, iff'in you want me to cut you some slack on that report, you better be opening up your wallet. The moths need to get out and breath some time. You know I can't remember the last time you paid for anything," Chris responded.

Vin grinned as he hit the elevator button. "I reckon you're just jealous 'cause everybody wants my company so bad that they'll pay for it."

"Guess that makes you a gigolo."

"What's jello got to do with it?" Vin replied and both men laughed as they left for lunch. Vin felt the weight on him lift with the easy banter. Damned if he knew how he made it before he found this friendship. There was no pressure here. Chris never pretended to understand his feelings or to solve his problems. Chris just made himself available whenever Vin needed him. He always seemed to help Vin smile when he no longer thought he could. Vin had an anchor in life now, a constant when life was always changing. It was a security he had never known and could no longer imagine living without.

"I'm worried 'bout him. He's not goin' to school and his mama doesn't know what day it is much less how to care for 'im," Vin said to Chris as they drank their coffee after lunch.

"Drugs?"

"Yeah, heroin. She's in deep, looks like a walkin' skeleton. Stays in her place for a couple of days at a time and then goes down to 12th to earn her next fix."

"Is she bringing the Johns to her place?" Chris asked knowing that some children were in the next room as their mothers provided a service to a stream of nameless faces.

"Nah. She turns her tricks somewhere else. I reckon she's hidin' and has enough survival instincts to make sure no one knows where she's stayin'. She's gone a couple of days at a time. I suspect she's doin' specials to be able to buy a decent stash to hold her over for several days."

"Is she supporting the boy?"

"No. I've been leavin' Raymond food since I found 'im goin' through the trash. She paid enough for one month's rent. I checked around. They've been squatters in most places. Quits payin' and stays until they get kicked out."

"Are you going to call social services?" Chris asked. He knew from Vin's experiences with the state system that he was reluctant to do so. But he also knew his friend had done so in the past when a situation was such that a child was at risk and there was nothing he could do to help.

"I don't know, not yet. I've paid the rent so they can stay another month. I wanna wait and see if Raymond will open up. I called in a few favors and got his file. He was put in the foster care system three years ago. He keeps running away to get back to his mama. I don't see much point in sending 'im back if he's just gonna run again."

"You think that the mother is around for a while?" Chris asked knowing from Vin's description that she was probably dying, whether from AIDS or starvation or the drug she kept injecting into her system.

"Hard to say." And Chris nodded in understanding. They had seen people live year after year when their bodies had already begun to look dead.

"Want some help?" Chris asked.

"Not yet. Raymond's scared of most people. Kids can't even get close to 'im. He stays in the apartment most of the time but lately he's been goin' to the weeping ground."

"The weeping ground? Why?" Chris asked. He hated the place and couldn't imagine that a skittish kid would find any comfort there.

"Don't know. But he actually talked with me for a while there the other day. Maybe he feels comfortable there because it's quiet. He was curious how the names got there."

"You make anything of it?"

"I don't know but I'll keep tryin' to talk to him. Figure it out maybe. With enough time, maybe he'll start openin' up."

They finished their coffee and headed back to the office. They hadn't solved anything but Vin felt better for having talked through it.

Part 5

"I don't know why Dani didn't ask me," Vin groused as he and Josiah walked to the weeping ground.

"Well my young friend, I suspect that Ms. Copeland has her eye on me and you are too young. Besides I don't think that you have the entire market on helping people here," Josiah replied.

"Dani likes you?" Vin asked on wry amusement.

"You don't have to look so surprised. Some women understand the benefits of experience."

"I didn't know that women were into relics," Vin responded with a smile and moved away from Josiah's playful swat.

The light-hearted atmosphere dissipated when Josiah and Vin stepped into the cool air of the weeping ground. Raymond was clearly visible lying in the middle of the ground, eyes staring sightlessly at one of the walls, a small smile on his face. The buckets of paint fell unnoticed to the ground as Vin slowly approached the boy. He circled Raymond as if needing to see his death from all angles. Vin stretched out his hand to touch the boy but withdrew it before he made contact. And then as if his screams of rage could shatter the hold of death, Vin began to howl. It wasn't a human sound. It was a sound born in misery and revolt. The ground became the enemy and Vin attacked its cold walls and quiet ground. Only Josiah's strong arms enclosing him ceased his battle and then his body shook in its rage.

Time had no movement. His senses no longer functioned, eyesight blurry, sounds static, touch subdued to numbness. The suffocating grief dominated Vin's existence. His body felt overfull as if it could not take another breath. Nothing mattered except that one boy was no longer here. Well learned on how a needle could be used and allowed you to escape this world, Raymond made his escape leaving the long-haired man watching in bewilderment.

The warm touch of Chris' hand on his neck brought his senses surging to the surface. Chris' quiet concern and solid strength anchored him as he looked at the young boy's body surrounded by these walls and he began to weep. Vin didn't know how long his grief rocked him. He only knew he was suddenly empty and Raymond needed to be attended to. With a deep breath, he looked to his friend and felt his solid grasp as he was pulled to his feet, brought back to the land of the living.

Chris maintained contact with Vin knowing that Vin was finding comfort and strength from the physical anchor. He was not obvious in his contact. To the causal observer, Chris made only slight touches to Vin's shoulder or arm. To Vin, the touches bore the weight of his world and allowed him to stand strong. He walked over to Raymond and squatted beside him. This time when his hand reached out it did not stop. He ran his hand softly over the boy's face and realized this was the first time he had ever touched him. He dropped his head in anguish that his first touch would be to touch his cold skin rather than his warmth. Vin hoped that Raymond's spirit had moved beyond his fear.

The sound of voices in the alleyway and Josiah's large form blocking any attempts to gain entry brought Vin's focus away from the slightly smiling face. He looked over and saw that Josiah would not allow the police or coroner access until he knew Vin had completed what he was doing. Vin rose grateful for the slight touch he felt on his lower back, a silent signal of support. He nodded and walked over to Josiah and placed his hand on his shoulder in appreciation and kept walking. He walked aimlessly, only aware of other footsteps that paced his. A shadow which gave him shelter.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he stopped in front of Raymond's building. He walked steps he had climbed many times over the past month and stood in front of a door he had never been allowed through. He knocked even though he didn't expect an answer. When the knob turned under his hand he entered the apartment sickened by the smell and sight. The living room was bare of all furnishings, dark as the shade blocked out the light from outside. He walked to the kitchen and saw bags he had delivered, empty cans lying about. He kicked himself mentally when he noted that no utensils or pans were evident. He had left food for Raymond to eat like a dog. He hadn't remembered how bare it would be here.

He walked into the bedroom and wrinkled his nose at the smell of rot and urine. She was lying on a mattress, tattered and dirty, no linens or pillows. He shook her roughly and eventually she opened her eyes. It took her several minutes to realize that a man had woke her. She rose sluggishly and began to pull her shirt loose before his hand grasped her wrist in an iron grip.

"I came to tell you that Raymond is dead," Vin spoke softly. The softness did not hide his rage.

She ran her hand through dirty, tangled strands of hair as if trying to bring herself back to this place. She finally muttered "Who?" and it was Vin's undoing.

He grabbed the woman and slammed her against the wall. Her breath was knocked from her and her eyes finally opened in full. Vin felt an arm wrap around his middle and felt Chris whisper against his ear "Vin."

"Raymond was your son. A boy who came here every day thankful that you were alive. There won't be anyone to do that anymore," Vin said and pushed away from her. Chris released his hold, which had been one of support rather than restraint. Chris closed the door behind them shutting off her mindless mutterings.

Vin's steps were quick and purposeful. He took the steps up to his apartment two at a time, leaving the door open for Chris. He walked directly to his bedroom and grabbed a bag and began stuffing clothes in it. He looked up when Chris leaned against the door frame, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

"Feel like a hike in the mountains?" Vin asked knowing the answer before he saw the slight nod.

Vin settled himself in the black Ram truck and looked around him at the children and people and buildings. He sighed in relief that he had this and wished it for all those who might be looking on. He tried to remember that there was still hope, but he needed to be surrounded by nature to remind him of the strength of life. It became easier to grasp as they left the weeping ground further behind.

Epilogue

Vin climbed down from the scaffold and stepped back to look at his work. "Looks really good son," Josiah commented as he stood beside Vin.

"Yeah, I'll bet he'll love seeing his name in gold," JD added.

"I personally think that the inclusion of the sun with its rays reaching out adds a certain statement that the young man would find appropriate," Ezra commented as he viewed the half sun rounding off the top of the R and the stretched endings of the R and y. Raymond's name stood boldly in gold appearing to reach out. What he could not do in life, his name did for him here to be remembered for all time.

The other men nodded in agreement as they all looked at the new name which dominated one of the walls in the weeping ground. Raymond looked down and thought how wonderful it must be to have friends like the six men surrounding the long-haired man as they all looked at his name on the wall. It was enough to make you smile or weep.

End

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