ABSENT GRACE by Arindam Kalita (India, 25)

Jason ambled up the trail with his brother Marc. While Marc led the way, Jason lagged behind.
With each step, his boots squeaked on the damp spring grass. Windflowers and sprouting ferns
encircled him with trees that had begun to bud, casting dappled morning sunlight through the
forest canopy.

The air was cool and crisp. A slight breeze ruffled his hair, carrying the freshness of
blooming flowers. It whispered tranquility to his soul. Jason closed his eyes and took a deep
breath, savoring the freshness that filled his lungs.

I can’t believe it’s been so long, Jason thought as his childhood memory of walking on
this trail with his siblings struck him.

“Come on! We don’t have all day!” Marc hollered, looking back at him.

“Would you cut me some slack? I’m doing my best,” Jason said.

Marc chuckled as he watched Jason struggling to keep up. “Looks like you gotta stay a
few more days to let the country air detox your body.”

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” Jason huffed. “There’s a couple dozen clients waiting
for me back in the city, and I’m the only one who can—”

“Please, don’t start with your banker stuff again. Can’t you take just one week off… for
old time’s sake?”

“I wish I could. You have no idea what mountains I had to move in order to make it here
for the wedding.” Jason flung his hands in the air. “I can’t just keep nestling in a remote village
when the firm is ready to pour me all the money in the world.”

Without another word, Marc turned away and continued up the hill.

Jason felt his stomach quiver.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean it that way,” Jason said.

But his brother continued to walk ahead of him in silence.

For the next few minutes, squirrels, rabbits, and a shy deer in the distance greeted them.
Jason didn’t miss capturing any of them with his camera.

Soon, they arrived at a clearing, where a vast lake stretched before them. A pair of ducks
created ripples on its surface. The lake was bathed in warm, golden light as the sun rose over the
distant mountains, glowing the trees in a brilliant green. The sky turned into a bright blue blanket
with clouds like cotton candy.

A deep brown wooden pier extended straight out into the lake, its planks worn smooth by
countless footsteps.

“So, what do you think?” Marc asked, studying Jason’s face.

“Wow,” Jason whispered, running his sleeve across his sweat-tinged brow. The view
transfixed his eyes as he was awestruck by its beauty.

“Just wow?”

“This is amazing… truly incredible. Just as I remember it.” Jason smiled. His heart
overflowed with nostalgia and a mixture of emotions.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Marc smiled back.

They plopped down onto the pier, removed their hiking boots, and immersed their feet in
the cool water. The wooden structure creaked softly beneath their weight, with water lapping
against the piling below. A large fish jumped to their right before concealing itself back in the
water.

Marc turned to Jason. “I know it was hard for you to get away, but I’m so glad you are
here… It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Jason patted him on the back. “I wouldn’t have missed your wedding for anything in the
world.”

Jason was happy his brother got to marry his high school sweetheart, the village
craftsman’s daughter. Marc has been constantly reminding Jason of the wedding for over a
month. He would have come anyway.

Marc sighed. “I wish Sarah were here today, like old days. She would have been so
happy.”

His voice broke when he mentioned the name, his eyes holding a world of sadness.

Jason gave a slight nod. “I know. Me too.”

The memory of their sister flooded Jason’s mind: how she used to sit next to him on this
pier and joke around. She had passed away years earlier from leukemia, but the pain of her loss
was still raw.

Things turned worse when his mother died of lung cancer shortly after. As Jason recalled
his time with them, a blanket of sorrow squeezed his heart.

Marc swallowed to push down the emotion in his voice. “So, are you enjoying the lake so
far?” He asked, trying to sound like the last couple of minutes of conversation hadn’t happened.

“Uh, yeah—sure,” Jason replied. As he stared at the lake, Sarah’s face flashed before
him. The emptiness she left in Jason’s heart burdened him heavily, suffocating him as he
struggled to keep his composure and hide the tears welling in his eyes.

“You remember what I said to you before I left home?” Jason asked a while later.

Marc stared at him for a moment before replying. “How could I ever forget that?”

Jason’s mind drifted back to the night when he rushed to Marc’s room with a backpack
full of clothes and a few essential items. He said to Marc, “Please, I’m begging you. Come with
me.”

And his brother replied, “I can’t leave Dad… not like this.”

Silence ensued as the air between them turned heavy.

“I truly admire your accomplishments, Jason,” Marc said. “At twenty-nine, you have
built quite a reputation for yourself and got the one thing we hadn’t had to save Sarah and
Mom.”

Another memory grabbed hold and pulled Jason’s to his fights with his father when he
blamed him for their deaths. His father, a traditional farmer with a decent income, suddenly fell
into financial collapse when the family needed money the most.

Jason’s sister and mother had died because his father couldn’t afford their medical
treatments, and that’s what induced Jason to leave and start fresh somewhere else.

“But, you know what, I’m still mad at you for never coming back.” Marc’s voice carried
an accusatory tone. “Not even for Dad’s funeral.”

Jason let out a deep sigh. “I just didn’t want to see him again… not even his dead face.
I’ve hated him my whole life after Mom’s and Sarah’s death… he was an asshole.”

“Can you please not call him that?”

“No. He deserves it. His recklessness tore our family apart: the drinking and gambling!
And don’t even get me started on how he ignored us after Mom’s death like we didn’t even
exist.”

“Yes, I agree,” Marc said. “It was hard for us, and he made mistakes. But you also need
to understand what he was going through‌.”

“Oh yeah, please tell me. I’m all ears—what was he going through then?” Jason chortled.

Marc gave him a compassionate look before speaking. “Dad was having disputes with the
landlord over land ownership, which was rightfully ours. And he had just lost—”

“Oh, stop it,” Jason grumbled. “Why are you still defending him after everything?”

“Because it wasn’t his fault, like the way you think it was, and you need to know the
whole truth.”

“What truth?”

“He ran up a huge debt the year Mom got sick.”

“What?” Jason narrowed his eyes.

“He used up most of our savings to buy the new profitable wheat,” Marc began with a
faraway look. “He believed it would fix our financial woes once and for all.”

Marc paused, gazing down at the water. His shoulders slumped, and he spoke in a dull
voice, “It would have been true if the blight hadn’t destroyed most of it… you remember the
northern blight, which was immune to fungicides? It was all over the news?”

Jason nodded weakly.

“So the crop failed, and he became completely broke,” Marc said.

Silence ensued.

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Jason muttered. His muscles went numb, and he felt dizzy,
wondering why his father or elder brother never told him about this. They probably did not want
him to worry, but things would have been different if he knew.

“Of course, Dad never told us anything about his work, remember?”

“Yeah…” Jason’s mind was transported back to how his father told him and Marc to
focus on their studies when they showed interest in farming or other earning opportunities.

“I overheard him mentioning it to Mr. Walter,” Marc said. “Dad sounded really depressed
telling him all that.”

“Mr. Walter? Our old neighbor?”

“Yes. You see now? There was a lot going on under the surface.”

Jason furrowed his brows.

Marc said softly, “Look, just because some scars are not easily tolerable doesn’t mean we
are meant to run away from them… we just have to learn to live with them. Whatever had
happened had happened. Come on, buddy. You can’t hate him forever. He’s gone now… You
gotta forgive him.”

A knot twisted in Jason’s chest, and his body went cold.

Jason drove to the cemetery the next morning and walked up to where his family was
buried. Rows of tombstones stood stoically, crafted from aged marble and weathered granite.
They bore the markings of countless years, etched with names, dates, and epitaphs. Each told a
unique story of a person’s life, serving as a poignant reminder of the transient nature of
existence.

Wearing a fedora and leaning heavily on a cane, a silver-haired old woman was leaving
the graveyard a few feet ahead of him. A gloomy expression filled her wrinkled face. Her eyes,
behind her oversized round glasses, were fixated on the ground.

Jason stopped when he arrived at his family’s resting place. He’d brought with him three
bouquets of blue Hydrangeas—his family’s favorite. His mother used to fill their backyard with
rows upon rows of this flower.

Jason put his nose to one bouquet and breathed in the fragrance before placing it on his
mother’s grave first, then his sister’s. He ran his fingers over their engraved words, and uttered
softly, “Love you, always…”

Their memories filled his heart with longing and sadness, wishing he had more time with
them.

He moved to his left and stood before his father’s grave. He stared at the words written
over his tombstone: “Loving Husband and Devoted Father-Forever Missed.”

The words caused a surge of uneasiness and anger to stir within him. He dropped the
flower on his father’s grave and walked away from there as fast as he could.

After a few feet, he abruptly halted and looked across the ground. He scooped up a small
stone, spun around, and flung it toward his father’s resting place.

“You heartless asshole,” Jason bellowed, dashing back toward the grave, fueled by a
whirlwind of emotions.

He stooped to snatch the flower from where he had left it. He threw the flower away, its
petals scattering on the ground.

“I hope you burn in hell.” Jason’s body seethed with fury. His breath came out in short,
rapid gasps.

As he kept glaring down, unbidden memories of the good times slipped through his mind.
The times when his father had been his role model and spend time with him, play with him, help
him with his homework. The tide of memories hit its crest, rising above its surface and bursting
through all barriers. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, and he crumbled to his knees.

“Why did you abandon us?” Jason’s voice cracked. “Why, Dad…? Mom’s death was
hard for us, too. But we needed you. And I wouldn’t have left if you had told me about the debt.”

A breeze swept through the surroundings, collecting the petals of the discarded bouquet
and brushing them over Jason’s face. Some of the petals fell on his father’s grave. A symphony
of birdsong and rustling leaves filled the atmosphere as if the earth tried to whisper consoling
words to ease his pain.

​Tears continued to stream down Jason’s face. Deep in his heart, he finally let himself
listen to a voice that asked him to embrace forgiveness.

“You know what, maybe it’s time,” Jason said, looking up with teary eyes, meeting the
expanse of the sky. “Maybe it’s time I forgive you… I don’t want to hold this grudge anymore.
And it won’t change a thing anyway… I hope you rest well wherever you are, Dad.”

Jason remained on the ground, crying. A wave of emotions washed over him, mingled
with a cathartic relief, cleansing him as he finally let it all go.




​Arindam Kalita belongs to a remote, impoverished village in Assam, India. He is a 25-year-old non-native English writer who identifies himself among marginalized voices. So far, his works have appeared in “CreepyPod” and “The Up and Coming”.