The Father's Son

by Jim Sano

  “What happened?”

  David remained intense. “One of the players reached down, grabbed the resting ball, and raced to his own basket, laid the basket in, scoring two points for the other team.”

  That same boy exclaimed, “Is that legal? Can you really do that?”

  Tom said with a smile, “Not on our team!”

  David said, “Yes, it’s legal. Since this was a basket for the Bulls, the Warriors got to take the ball out again and scored again at their own basket. It didn’t take long for the Bulls to catch on, so they started to play defense to stop the Warriors from scoring baskets at their own hoop. Pretty soon each team played aggressive offense, except at the wrong basket and the opposing team played amazing defense to stop them from scoring for them. The fans went crazy and cheered louder on each play. The players on each bench were on their feet rooting for their team to play hard to lose the game.”

  Billy Maguire shouted, “What happened? Who won? I mean who lost the game?”

  “It was one of the best games ever played from a fan’s standpoint or one of the worst since no one officially scored an offensive point. The game went into triple overtime until the last play of the third overtime when the Warriors scored an amazing shot at their own basket from half-court just as the clock ran out.”

  The boys all sat with their mouths open, stunned by the story. David said, “It just shows you that basketball is a lot more fun when you aren’t worried about failing, and you just go out and give it your best. Some of you boys who are holding back, work on the things you are less confident about together and don’t be afraid to make mistakes. We’re here to learn together and not to criticize but to encourage each other. If we work together as a team, and we play as a team, you never know how many games you might win.”

  Billy said enthusiastically, “Or lose!” Everybody laughed as Tom told them that was all for today.

  As David and Tom were putting the balls in the bag. Tom whispered to David, “You’re a great coach at heart, but you may need to go to confession after each practice if you keep up these kinds of stories.” David laughed as he put the last ball in the bag, but Tom placed his hand under the ball to stop him. David knew what that meant, and he played to win all three games against Tom.

  Afterward, they walked over to Dempsey’s for a quick bite and cold beer. Dempsey greeted them at the door with a big smile on his rosy cheeks, “Good evening to you, boys. Now you know we have a high-class establishment here, and some patrons are even known to take a shower now and then before they come for the fine cuisine.”

  Tom glanced over his shoulder. “I think those patrons were just behind us. Now fetch up some grub and a few brewskies beer-tender before I bring the whole sweaty team in to smell up your fine establishment!”

  Dempsey laughed. “You are playing with fire, boys. I control the tap and if you don’t behave, I’ll be shutting you off and it’ll be Shirley Temples for the pair of you.” David and Tom dropped their heads in shame as they headed over to an open booth.

  As they settled their tired bones into their respective seats, David said, “The strangest thing happened today.”

  “Do you mean stranger than that story you told the boys today?”

  “Yes, stranger than that. Sister Helen stopped me at the door to the school again today. Just as I thought she was going to chastise me, she put her arms around me and hugged me!”

  Dempsey put down two cold beers as David finished, and without a word, walked back to the bar.

  “I would think you would know exactly why she was hugging you.”

  David shook his head. “No, I really don’t.”

  Tom’s facial expression showed a sense of surprise as he asked, “So you’re not the one who left a $20,000 donation for the school in an envelope marked ‘For dry nuns and appreciated friendship?’”

  David shook his head. “I wish I could take credit, but it wasn’t from me. Does that amount cover what is needed?”

  Tom appeared bewildered. “Well, that’s strange and an interesting mystery. It won’t cover close to what we need, but it certainly is a lot more than we had the day before. Huh. Well here’s to the generous soul,” he said, raising his glass to David’s. Tom laughed to himself. “I wish I could’ve been at that game you talked about with the boys today. It was a clever way to get the point across to the boys that are still a bit tentative. I’m glad you came back to coach. It’s a lot more fun with you there.”

  “I hope you know that my rates do go up after the first two sessions, but I’m sure that your rates for deciphering go up as well.”

  “Another message?”

  David slapped the card out on the table and turned it so that Tom could see the picture of the white building again.

  “Is this the same card as before?” Then he turned over the card to see the verse on the back and read the first line, “’Within these unmoving walls, know that for these many years I have voyaged on an odyssey to make it home to you and to let you know you have been loved.’ Do you know what it means?”

  David shook his head. “Not a clue.”

  “Let’s think a bit. The card was left for you, so it could possibly be referring to you, but it is hard to tell. ‘Within these unmoving walls,’ I wonder what the connection is to the picture on the front, if there is any. I assume that it’s not a building you’ve seen before?” David shook his head as Tom continued reading, “’As life was unfair to young Telemachus trying to become a man without the love and guidance he deserved, know that he had good reason to remain unwavering in trust as did his lonely mother at her loom.”

  David set his mug down. “Who is Telemachus?”

  “The son of Odysseus from Homer’s Odyssey. The first verse mentions voyaging on an odyssey, so I think it seems like a good possibility.”

  Tom took a swig of his beer while David stared at the writing. “Why would that story be meaningful to me?”

  “Is it?”

  “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never read it. I don’t even really know the story.”

  Tom sipped his beer, then set the mug aside. “Odysseus, the king of the Greek island of Ithaca, had been away at war in Troy. The story is about his struggle to get home to his wife, Penelope, and his son, Telemachus, who was only a year old when he left. Odysseus is strong, courageous, and confident, but most of all, he had a cunning intellect. He was a favorite of the goddess Athena, who tried to help him on his journey, but the god of the sea, Poseidon, put obstacles in his way at every turn. Odysseus has a conflict between his pride and desire for glory, and his desire to go home. His journey takes ten years on top of the ten years he was already at war, so Telemachus basically grows up without knowing his father.”

  “Ah! I remember seeing this book and the Iliad as a boy but never knew the stories. Does Odysseus end up getting home? What happens to the son and the mother?”

  “Odysseus has many adventures along the way while fighting against both Poseidon’s efforts and his own pride. Meanwhile, the house of Odysseus in Ithaca is full of suitors for the hand of Penelope and the power and riches that come with it as they have presumed Odysseus to be dead and Telemachus is not yet the man to stop them. Subsequently, Telemachus ventures out on a journey to find his father, and in the process learns to become a man and trust Athena’s guidance. At home, Penelope works to hold off the suitors because she has faith that her husband will return. Penelope is just as cunning as Odysseus. She promises to pick a husband once she has finished weaving a burial shroud for Odysseus, which she weaves by day and then undoes at night so that it will never be completed.”

  “What happens to the son?”

  “Telemachus returns home and as a man. Odysseus finally makes it back to Ithaca and disguises himself as an old beggar. By this time, Penelope has agreed to marry whichever man can string Odysseus’s bow and shoot the arrow through a line of twelve axes. When every one of the suitors fails to even string the bow, the old beggar is laughed at when he offers to
try. It becomes apparent to the suitors who the beggar is when he’s the only one strong enough to not only string the bow but skilled enough to execute the impossible shot through the line of axes. Odysseus and his son, with the help of a few trusted servants, then kill all the unfaithful suitors.”

  David stared wide-eyed at Tom. “Is that the end?”

  Tom shook his head. “When Penelope becomes aware that Odysseus is home, she is leery that the gods are playing a trick on her and asks a servant to move their wedding bed. Odysseus becomes upset saying that the bed has been built from the trunk of an olive tree around which the house was constructed and was immovable. Penelope now knows that this is truly Odysseus come home, and as the bed, their marriage was forever immovable. Odysseus then goes to visit his father, who has aged from worry and grief. His father recognizes Odysseus by the scar on his foot that he had given him as a boy, and Odysseus embraces and kisses the father he hasn’t seen for so many years.”

  Tom put his hand on the postcard and finished reading the message, “‘My hope is that your own journey is one that learns to trust your own weaver and that when you string the bow to remove your false suitors, you will know that I have faith in the son I have always loved.’ Huh. It sounds like a letter to a son who has had to grow up without the love and guidance of his father, and there’s been a good reason for that son to have trusted in the father’s love and desire to come home to him. He hopes that the son can trust his own ‘weaver’ and remove his ‘false suitors,’ and to know that the father believes in his son and has always loved him.”

  David sat there visibly breathing out.

  “There is really a lot in these three lines. Your own ‘weaver’ seems to make reference to your maker, God. Removing ‘false suitors’ could be talking about what we discussed the other day, what other ‘gods’ we put first at the center of our lives that don’t work. What stands out to me is the focus on trust, and that it may have seemed broken but in reality, never really was. Do you have any idea who this might be about?”

  David was feeling overcome by all the emotions going on as Tom talked through each line. He just shook his head.

  “Please forgive me for asking you another sensitive question, but you did say your dad is no longer alive, correct?”

  With more anger in his eyes than sadness, David snapped back, “He’s dead, and he is dead for a reason.”

  Tom nodded and reached over to pat David’s shoulder. “Sorry. There just seemed to be something there. Maybe it is from someone who knew your dad? I don’t know. I definitely don’t know what the picture on the front is about either.”

  David was quiet as they finished their burgers and beer. He told Tom that he needed to get up early in the morning and called it an early evening. He left the bar with Tom sitting by himself with the postcard of the white stone building on the table.

  David ambled back to his apartment, thinking of the Odyssey tale and how difficult it would’ve been for Telemachus and his mother for all those years. Why would someone have left that card on his refrigerator? Who would’ve known his father well enough to leave this for him after all these years? When he got home, he gave Trooper some attention and then sat down in his chair to think. He got up and went into his room, where the box from his mother’s house sat by the closet door. David set the box down on the bed, taking out pictures and letters until he noticed a very old book that looked familiar to him. He saw that it was a small leather-bound copy of Homer’s Odyssey, something he now remembered his father reading. As he opened the front cover, on the inside was a partially faded inscription: Gianni, I hope you enjoy the adventures and lessons as much as I have. Love Papa. He flipped through the old, thin pages until he got to the back cover where he found a news article yellowed by time. The headline of the June 28, 1972, article read:

  ‘Boston Native to be Executed in Virginia Tomorrow’

  David had read the article years ago that outlined the story of Giovanni Fidele involved in a $2 million Bank of Boston bank heist in downtown Boston with Mo Diavolo, Gino Cappelletti, and Johnny Maccillo. The operation had been apparently planned for months and went wrong when James Fidele, son of Gianni Fidele was shot and killed along with bank guard Peter Spiro. The armored truck driver testified that neither he nor the younger Fidele was involved or even aware of the robbery plans when they were confronted at the scene. The robbers were involved in a multi-state chase that ended in the shooting death of a state trooper, Sgt. Bernard Kincheloe just across the Virginia border. Fidele’s gun, fingerprint evidence, the testimony of eyewitnesses, and corroboration of Fidele’s accomplices about the shootings made a very clear case against the North End native, Giovanni Fidele, who would be executed in the electric chair on the morning of June 29, 1972. None of his family members could be reached for comment.

  David felt a rush of emotions flooding his body as he read the article to find clues. David had a computer installed in his study a few months ago that he used mainly for work emails and documents, but he had done very little internet surfing because he found it to be a frustratingly slow waste of time. However, he was filled with the need to look up executions in the state of Virginia to see if there was anything about his father’s death.

  After an hour of searching, the only thing he ran into were articles on the Supreme Court decision in the Furman vs. Georgia case, which was one of three cases on the death penalty that the Court was reviewing together. The Court’s decision held that a punishment that was “cruel and unusual” would violate the Eighth and Fourteenth Amendments. On June 29, 1972, the Supreme Court effectively voided most death penalty statutes and commuted the sentences of 629 death row inmates around the country and suspended the death penalty nationally. David was sitting in shock as he skimmed through more articles reporting the same Supreme Court decision. He felt panicked as he thought of his father being put to death just hours before the Court decision could have saved his life.

  David had never seen an article about his father’s actual death. His mother had never discussed his death and there was no funeral he was aware of. Their mother had moved them off stoically to survive in their new life with their new identities and no trail. The new Kelly preoccupation was to shield themselves to lessen the pain and blot out the reality of where they had come from. David sat motionless in his chair. He had no fantasies that his father had been saved by the too-late verdict, but he felt like he needed some sort of closure. At work, David had always taught his sales teams to account for and be ready for all possibilities. David could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as possibilities came to mind. He needed to move, and he took Trooper out for a walk, finding himself walking towards Tom’s, where he stood outside the rectory door for a few minutes before knocking.

  Tom came to the door wearing pants and a tee-shirt—half ready for bed.

  “I was feeling a bit restless after our conversation and then I found something at home. I’m really sorry to knock late at night.”

  Tom waved him in. “Don’t be silly. Come on in and bring your good-looking friend in too.” Tom fed Trooper a few treats while David took a seat at the kitchen table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  David shook his head. “No. No. I’m fine.”

  “So, tell me what you are thinking about.”

  David stood up again and paced before answering. “I was thinking about the last note and who could’ve sent it. I could wish it away, but it wouldn’t take away the fact that it certainly sounded like it was meant for me and from—” David’s voice trailed off. “No one knows me well enough or cares enough to leave these messages without there being something to it. My father presented himself as a man of integrity. Everyone knew his priorities in his life were his faith, his marriage, his family, and his morals. When I found out that everything about him was a sham, I felt shame and then a deserved disdain for him. His life wasn’t only a lie, but he killed my brother and destroyed our family. We had to work hard to move on and create a new life, s
o we’d never be vulnerable to someone like that again. My father’s been dead to me for over thirty years, but—” He handed the book and the newspaper clipping to Tom. “I have no proof that he’s actually dead.”

  Tom read through the article before laying it on the table in front of him. “Are you thinking that his execution had been impacted by this last-minute Supreme Court reprieve, and he has been behind these messages?”

  David, pacing, shook his head. “You know, I don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know if I even want to know.”

  Tom put his hand out for David to sit down. “What if you found out he was alive? What would you do?”

  *****

  David’s face became slightly contorted as he shook his head again. “I would be pissed. Dragging all this up again wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring Jimmy back. It wouldn’t bring my family back. It wouldn’t bring back all those years and I still wouldn’t have a father, not one I could trust, or love, or forgive.”

  Tom could see the anger in David’s eyes, and he knew anger was usually driven by fear. He also knew David’s reaction wouldn’t be the same if he were truly indifferent, which meant David had a reservoir of buried feelings for his dad, which Tom had suspected from early on. It was a signal that a very vulnerable core lay inside of all the success, confidence, and friendly but distant personality. Tom was aware David was at risk of becoming quickly overwhelmed by feelings he had carried inside.

  “David, I can’t know everything you are feeling, but I think there are probably a lot of conflicting thoughts going through your head right now. I do believe that, no matter what you find, you will be okay. I think the feeling of abandonment and loss of trust in someone you loved and trusted so much as an eight-year-old would be devastating to anyone. In addition, your mom deserted you emotionally, and that could only have made things more painful for you. My heart actually aches to think about how that must’ve felt, but I also get the sense that both of your parents affirmed you early on in your life, letting you know there is something uniquely good in you, because I can sense it.”