[October 2nd] [Perry Mason] Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, 1

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Do the Words I Say Ever Make It Through?, part 1
Day/Theme: October 2nd - Treading through the crimson leaves
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Mignon Germaine, Jimmy Anderson, important mentions of Lieutenant Anderson
Rating: T/PG-13

... This was actually supposed to be serene and peaceful, but I couldn't think of anything to carry the story through with that in mind. So instead it went heartbreaking and gah. It may or may not continue from a piece I wrote for August 24th. And it may or may not end up as part of an arc for the month....

Cross-posted to octoberwriting.


By Lucky_Ladybug

It was the middle of October and the leaves were thick on the ground. Hues of red, orange, and yellow crunched under Mignon’s feet as she walked quietly down the path. Newly falling leaves cascaded and spiraled down from the trees, dancing around her as they swirled to join their brothers on the ground. Mignon glanced to them and then up ahead at her destination.

It was almost strange, sometimes, how so much beauty could be found in places of despair and grief. But nature still thrived, even in a cemetery, and the cycle rolled on. The trees were preparing to hibernate now, yet within six months they would be reviving.

There was no such return from human death. But for anyone who believed that life continued in another realm, on another plane, the reminders of the existing trees might be a form of comfort. They had been for Mignon, after her Jack had tragically passed on.

Were they such for the mourner standing at the recent grave?

Mignon stepped off the walkway and approached the monument. She recognized the young man standing there, from the funeral and from several previous, albeit brief, meetings. “Officer Anderson?”

He jumped a mile. “Oh . . . Mrs. Germaine,” he said in surprise as he turned.

Mignon searched his saddened eyes. “It’s been several weeks,” she said. “How are you getting by?”

He gave a helpless shrug. “I’m just going from day to day. Somehow.” He stared at the name carved in the smooth stone. “Sometimes I don’t know how.”

Mignon bent and placed her flowers at the base of the stone before straightening and facing him again. “I understand,” she said quietly. “It’s never easy to determine how to go on after a loved one’s passing.”

He nodded. “Nobody really knows how to deal with it, I guess. Every time I’m around any of the others, there’s . . . there’s just this awful feeling of emptiness. Mr. Burger’s been more solemn and distant. Lieutenant Drumm, too. And Lieutenant Tragg . . .” He trailed off.

Mignon watched him, silently, expectantly. After a moment he gathered his thoughts and continued.

“This has really crushed him, Mrs. Germaine. His captain has recommended that Lieutenant Drumm start working more closely with him, but he . . . he won’t have any of it. He mostly works alone now, or sometimes with Sergeant Brice, but he refuses to take Lieutenant Drumm or anyone else under his wing the way he did Andy.”

“He lost a son,” Mignon said quietly. “He can’t be expected to feel that anyone else is a suitable replacement.”

“Of course not. It’s just . . .” He hesitated, again searching for the right words. “We’re all so worried about him, Mrs. Germaine. He’s closed himself off. Mr. Burger says this is how he was after his wife died. It took his niece Lucy to bring him out of that. But she can’t seem to do anything for him this time. I’m afraid that the only person who can help him now is Andy himself. And that’s impossible.”

“Not impossible, Officer Anderson,” Mignon corrected. “But unlikely. The dead cannot repair all of our grief. However . . .” She paused. “They are aware of us. And it pains them to see us suffer. Your cousin would no doubt go to Lieutenant Tragg if he could. Perhaps he is even trying, but cannot get through. Sometimes, grief is so strong that it blocks everything else, including the other side.”

A nod. “And I can’t blame him for that. I . . .” He clenched a shaking fist. “I lost more than a cousin. I lost a brother, a best friend.”

His voice caught in his throat. “Do you know Amory Fallon?”

“I’ve met him,” Mignon said slowly.

“I saw him on the street one day. I almost plowed into him. Then I just stopped and stared. I felt like I’d seen a ghost. He asked me what was wrong, but I . . . I couldn’t even answer.” He shook his head. “I was looking at Andy, only it wasn’t Andy and never could be Andy.”

Suddenly he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t be going on like this, burdening you with my problems. I’m sorry, Mrs. Germaine. Somehow it just all came out.”

“It has to, sometime,” Mignon told him.

He gazed listlessly at the headstone. “It’s just that I . . . I miss him. I miss him so much. And right now, I . . . I just can’t picture going on for years without him. Oh, don’t worry; I’m not thinking of killing myself. It’s just . . .”

“I know. It’s so hard to imagine life without him in it.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Andy was always there. He was my idol, my hero. If I had a problem, I went to him first of all. But now for the first time, he’s not here. I can’t go to him now or ever again. There’s just this huge rip out of my life where he was. And I can’t figure out how to put all the other pieces back together.”

Mignon was silent, gathering her words and whatever possible wisdom she could bestow on Andy’s heartbroken cousin.

“Sometimes I wonder if I ever gave myself the time to mourn Jack,” she spoke at last. “I had Larry to raise. I had to throw myself back into the working force to keep us going month after month. That was what I focused on. I was always painfully conscious of the fact that Jack wasn’t there, but there was rarely any time to properly grieve over his death.

“Grief is healthy and important. And I know how hollow that must sound now. But I believe that if you let it take its course, in time the wounds will begin to heal. Meanwhile, just managing to get from day to day is enough.”

He sighed. “That’s what I try to tell myself. And I go to Mama Norden’s almost every day, to try to help her get through her own grief. Oh, that poor woman. She lost first Otto and now Andy. As far as she’s concerned, they were both her sons.” He rested his hand on the top of the marker. “The only way she can console herself is by saying that now Otto and Andy are together again. They were close friends for so long. . . . Andy was so broken up when Otto was killed. . . .”

“And I’m sure they are together again,” Mignon said. “But Andy will never forget about you, or Mrs. Norden, or anyone else he loved who is still alive.”

“Oh, Mrs Germaine . . .” His eyes flickered with a pleading, desperate hope. “I know about your religion and a little bit about what you do. Is there any way you could . . . well, contact Andy? Maybe then Lieutenant Tragg could see him, and Mama Norden and I could . . .” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Say goodbye.”

Both kindness and sorrow filled Mignon’s eyes. “I might be able to, Officer Anderson,” she said, “but it isn’t necessary. Even if I could reach him, he would still be unable to communicate with you or Lieutenant Tragg if he has tried and failed already.

“We unfortunately can’t see the entire picture of life and death and beyond. And overall, there are very few people who have been able to come in contact with their departed loved ones, no matter how deeply they ache. But if that is what is needed for healing here, then I believe that somehow, it will happen.”

At last he drew a deep breath and nodded. “Alright then. I guess I’ll have to keep hoping . . . and praying. Thank you, Mrs. Germaine.”

She nodded as well, before turning to leave him to grief in private. Behind her, she could still hear him at the grave, kneeling amid the leaves, running his fingers through the carved letters.

“Andy . . . why did it have to be this way? I know we have to be prepared for this in the line of duty, but I wasn’t. I never could have been. And . . . all any of us really want is to have you back. Even though we never can.”

Mignon’s heart filled with sorrow and sympathy. She whispered a prayer for Lieutenant Anderson’s many mourning family members and friends as the multi-colored leaves slowly crackled under her feet.