The Turning Point

The man stood motionless in the dusk, staring forward, lost in thought. Tomorrow would be the anniversary of that terrible day, so many years ago. He hated to think about it; and yet, somehow, he had come again to revisit the place—and its memories.

He looked up at the tree. Its branches hovered solemnly overhead, just as they had twenty years before. The tree was older and now grander with the passage of years, but it was still bent—no, deformed. The gash seemed to be staring up at him with a hideous grin, as if to tell him, “It was your fault. It never would have happened if it weren’t for you.”

He hated the sight of that old tree, and usually did all that he could to avoid driving by it. Why it had survived he could not see, unless to torment his memory. But the tree wasn’t the only reminder. He looked down at the scars on his arms...

He had made many wrong choices in his youth. After falling in with the wrong crowd, he began a life of petty crime. Petty, that is, until he decided to rob the bank. He knew that it would devastate his parents when they found out. He knew that his brother and sister—hard-working and law-abiding—would feel betrayed. What he did not know was that his brother was on duty that night.

As he held up the bank, the emergency call went out. His brother answered. The flashing lights appeared in his rearview mirror as he pulled away in his car. A high speed chase followed, and continued until, about three miles outside of town, he missed the bend in the road. His car careened into the tree. The police car pulled up behind as his own car became engulfed in flames. Memories of what followed were scattered... his brother walking into the blaze to pull him out... throwing him down on the ground... smothering the scorching flames... shielding him from the explosion...

The man shivered. The night was cold; the darkness, colder. No longer at the side of the road, he stood in the cemetery, weeping. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “I thought I would find you here,” his wife said. “The children were worried.” The man lifted his gaze from the gravestone in front of him. “You know why he did it,” she whispered. “He was at peace with God; and he knew that you were not.”