One Headlight

Cameron Powers stood in the cemetery staring at the pine box that held his one and only love. The mourners standing on his left and his right covered in black. He tears his gaze from the minute grains in the pone and stares transfixed at the blood red sky as the sun rises in the east. The trees thick with fall leaved caught the blood from the sun and held it long after it faded crimson to tangerine to golden sunrise.

He hasn't listened to the preacher standing on the north side of her grave since he begun. The bible with gold glided pages clutched in his right hand, his left gesturing with every word, doesn't hold his attention, he didn't really know her. His gaze shifts to the woman his love called mother, the woman responsible for her life, her birth. He owed her everything but nothing at all at the same time. Her own mother didn't know that she sang off key in the shower or that she put fresh flowers on the table every morning or that she purred like a cat when she stretched and looked like an angel when she slept.

He couldn't help but think of the first time they met. They were six and she had her golden hair in pig tails and wore a bright red jumper. In the school yard at recess, he was playing with a bright blue ball by himself in a corner when his attention was caught by loud voices. He turned his head and saw Billy McGrudder and his gang of thugs formed a circle around her, he could barley see in. He walked closer, the ball gripped tightly in his small, dirt smeared hands. His eager, innocent eyes saw one of the bigger boys shove her; she almost fell, but managed to stay on her feet. The little boy knew it was wrong, what they were doing, and a sense of righteous indignation rose in him. "Stop that." He all but whispered, fear constricting his little throat.

It was enough. McGrudder grabbed the little girl and turned toward him, "What? Did you say something, loser?"

Cam looked at the little girl and saw the fear in her eyes, the tears staining her cheek and found his courage. "Stop that." He repeated in a much louder voice.

McGrudder laughed and shrugged it off. "Get lost loser before you get hurt."

"Let her go," he repeated, "Or else."