The Lost Truth

by T. K. Chapin

  Before the sliding doors at the entrance had time to open entirely, I dashed through and began scanning the store for the two of them. She has some nerve! Lifting my head, I searched the aisles of the store until I came to aisle fourteen. Gail was standing there looking at the cases of soda like nothing had happened.

  “Gail!” I shouted with a sharp tone as I made a beeline toward her.

  Startled, she dropped the case of soda in her hands and it burst open, launching cans out of the case and down the aisle. Stepping around them, I approached her with my anger hot and my eyebrows furrowed.

  “Hi, Clay.” Her voice weighed with annoyance as she began picking up the cans.

  “What were you thinking? Taking her from me like that? I didn’t know what was going on. Someone just took her from the beach! That’s all I knew.”

  Placing the last stray can into the case, she stood up. “Really? That concerns you? What about downing liquor in front of her? Huh? What about that?” She shook her head. “You left her by the shore and swam clear out to the middle of the lake. You think I’m the bad parent here?” She laughed.

  She must have called her. I went red with embarrassment as Gail called me out. Looking over Gail’s shoulder, I asked, “Where is she now?”

  “She’s in the car.”

  Fear gripped me by the throat. “No, she’s not in there.”

  “What? I just left her out there five minutes ago.”

  Turning around, I dashed down the aisle and to the front of the store at customer service. I recognized the girl behind the counter. It was Kelsey, one of the ten people who worked at the grocery store. She had been there ever since she graduated high school a few years ago. “Kelsey. Can you get on your speaker intercom thingy and see if my daughter is in here? She’s missing.”

  She nodded quickly and yanked the PA microphone to her lips. “Cindy to the front of the store, please, your father is waiting. Cindy to the front of the store, please, your father is waiting.”

  Gail walked up behind me as Kelsey turned and got onto her walkie-talkie and sent out a code twenty-two.

  Gail thumbed through her purse. “I didn’t see her in the candy aisle either. She wanted me to get her some Sour Patch Kids. Figured maybe she took matters into her own hands.” Pulling her cellphone out, she began dialing 911.

  “Wait. They might find her,” I insisted, putting my hand on hers.

  She looked up at me and tears welled in her eyes. “This isn’t the first time, Clay. You don’t understand.”

  “What’s that mean?” I asked, taking a step back.

  “She ran away a couple of months ago. She made it about two miles from the house and then stayed under the Elmonton Bridge for two days.”

  “What? She was missing two days and you didn’t tell me?” My eyes lifted and I scanned the store as a whole to see if she was heading up to the front.

  “I didn’t want to worry you . . .”

  “She’s my daughter, Gail! It’s my job to worry!”

  Gail stepped closer and grabbed onto my shirt as she buried her face into my chest and began crying. “I know . . .” her words dripped with remorse.

  Bringing my arms up around Gail, I hugged her. Kelsey caught my attention with a clearing of her throat, and I released from Gail to go over to the counter.

  “They found her. She’s on the boardwalk. She wandered down by the gift shop.” The gift shop?

  “Thank you.” Taking Gail by the hand, we dashed out of the store. We met Cindy on the boardwalk just outside. Her chin was dipped, and the Nez Perce Indian who we had met the other day at the farmer’s market stood next to her with his hand on her shoulder.

  “Your daughter was admiring the dream catchers in my friend’s gift shop. This one has the spirit of the eagle within her.”

  I reached my hand out to Cindy, but she sidestepped and went into Gail’s arms. Wrapping her arms around her, she looked up at her mother and said, “I want to go home.”

  Crushed, my heart unraveled like a ball of twine. She didn’t want to stay with me anymore. Gail put her arms around Cindy and lifted her up. “I think it’s best if I take her home.”

  Leaning in, I kissed Cindy’s cheek. “I love you, princess.”

  That was it.

  We parted ways.

  When I arrived back at Janice’s house, I grabbed the case of whiskey from the bed of the truck and took it around back to the shed. Coming around the corner of the house too quickly, my shirt snagged on a loose nail. Ugh. How’s that even possible? I jerked my body in an attempt to un-snag it.

  Riiiiip.

  Frustrated, I set the case down and took the shirt off and threw it in the grass beside the house. Coming over to the shed, I saw the calico cat making its way up the porch steps, almost to Kip’s cage.

  Setting the case down on the floor of the shed, I grabbed the rake that hung inside on the shed door and darted across the lawn to the porch.

  “Scram!” I shouted as I shook the rake in the air toward the cat and it ran off. Bending down, I opened Kip’s cage and was about to let him roam about when I turned and saw the cat inching its way back. I jumped up, and my footing slipped, forcing me to bear weigh on my bad leg to catch my balance. Pain shot through my leg, almost dropping me on the spot. I let go of the rake in my hands and grabbed onto the railing for balance. “Quit being such a bum!” I shouted down at my leg.

  Going back over to the shed, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the case and undid the cap. I downed it, and the whiskey burned as it melted the anguishing pain that not only existed in my leg, but in my heart.

  Thinking of Cindy seeing me in the truck earlier that day pressed against my mind, and I downed more. They say that everybody is dealt a hand in life. Well, why’d I have to end up with all the bad cards? When I took the bottle away from my lips, I saw that three-quarters was gone. There was a slight moment of clarity right before the alcohol hit my system like a freight train.

  Taking a step back out of the shed, I stumbled and fell onto my butt. Turning my head, I saw the calico cat staring at me from the edge of the field where it met the grass line of Janice’s property. Erupting in laughter, I grabbed my gut and fell over in the yard and onto my side. The sun was burning my skin as I lay in the grass, but I couldn’t do anything but laugh. Attempting to sit up, the world got dizzy and dropped me back to the soft grass. My eyes got heavy until they closed. Just a quick nap.

  “Clay!” a woman’s voice said as my body rocked back and forth. “Clay!” the voice boomed again.

  Sunlight danced with shadows against my eyelids as I woke. Pushing my eyes open, I saw Katie. My skin felt like someone had dumped gasoline on me and lit it on fire. Her fingers pressed against my arm and felt like pricks of fire. “Stop touching me,” I pushed out, barely opening my mouth as I shifted my body.

  “Clay . . .”

  I sat up. My eyelids even felt as if they were on fire. “Ahh . . . What are you doing here?” Rolling over to my side, I pushed myself up out of the grass and stood up.

  “I called and told Janice I was going to be late. What happened? Janice said Cindy was here. Where is she?”

  Thinking back to the boardwalk and Cindy telling her mom she wanted to leave, I felt a sting that was deeper than the sunburn that covered my body. “She went home.” Turning, I headed to the porch to get out of the heat.

  Walking up the steps of the porch, I looked over to Kip’s cage. The door was open and Kip was gone. A jolt of energy surged through my veins, thrusting my body in a singular motion to Kip’s cage. Frantically, I searched the cage once, twice, three times. He was gone. I must have forgotten to clasp it shut.

  “Where’s Kip?” Katie asked behind me as she stood at the porch steps. Her words were genuinely sweet, but they felt like daggers in the back of my head.

  Ignoring her, I looked out to the yard. Surveying the landscape for Kip, my eyes stopped on a faint blue smudge of color in the field. No! Darting past Katie and out into the field,
I came up to Kip’s body.

  Dropping to my knees, I scooped my fallen friend into my calloused hands. His blood smeared against his innocent blue feathers and I cried out. “Why?” My heart ached, but tears refused to fall. Seeing the calico cat across the field near Mr. Kilgore’s barn filled me with anger so deep that it was like a well-spring of hate had just opened. I stood up, with Kip still in my hands, and hurried back over to the porch.

  “I’m so sorry,” Katie said as she followed me into the house. I went down the hallway and to the spare room. Gently setting him on a pillow, I went over to the closet and pulled down the gun case that belonged to my father.

  “Um . . . Clay? What are you doing?” she asked from the doorway.

  After entering the combination to the lock, I looked back at her. “Making this right. I’m not going to wait on justice.” Directing my attention back to the case, I popped it open and grabbed the twenty-two and headed back outside.

  Katie followed after me through the screen door, trying to stop me. “Clay! You’d better not kill that cat!” She shouted as I made my way back toward the field.

  Ignoring her pleas, I continued into the tall grass of the field as I loaded the gun with shells. I could hear her footsteps behind me as she followed. Arriving to the edge of the field by the barn, I saw the cat sitting smug-like as it napped in the shade of a willow tree. Get your fill of Kip? I’ll fill ya up now! Raising the gun to aim, I narrowed my sight on the cat.

  “Clay . . .” Katie said in a soft tone as she slowed her steps on her approach behind me.

  “What?” I shouted without turning to look at her. My finger was on the trigger now.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Her question echoed through my skull and caused me to take my finger off the trigger. Dropping the gun to my side, I turned around to her. “To make it even!” Speaking through my teeth, I said, “It’s not right what he did to Kip!”

  “But why?”

  Shaking my head with a few quick movements, I said, “It was wrong what that cat did. He deserves to die.”

  “Maybe so . . .” Katie replied gently as she stepped closer.

  Looking over my shoulder toward the murderer as it slumbered, I said, “You can’t let bad behavior go unpunished.”

  I turned back to Katie, and she was right in front of me now. She reached up, and her hands cupped my cheeks. Her touch was soothing as her hands touched my face. She looked me in the eyes. “You have a beautiful soul, Clay. Don’t let your anger and hurt over what has happened ruin who you are. You don’t want to kill the cat . . . I saw the newspaper about Lance.”

  A feeling of exposure washed over me. It felt like she knew everything, knew my secrets and understood the storm that raged. Dropping the gun, I fell to my knees and my walls came crashing down around me. Sobbing, I hid my face in my palms. “I didn’t mean to kill Peter. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I just needed him to understand he should never touch a child.” I cried harder than I ever did in that moment, and Katie placed a hand on my back as I wept.

  “God forgives you, Clay. You know that.” Tears fell down her cheeks, as if she understood my grief.

  I shook my head. “I know that, but I can’t feel it. It’s as if His grace wasn’t enough.” Lifting my hands up from the ground, I looked at my palms. “These hands . . . they took a life, Katie.” Shaking my head again, I continued. “They played the role of God and decided the fate of a man. He was a son. A father. A human life.”

  She shook her head. “A sick and twisted man, Clay.” She dipped her head down to grab my eyes with hers.

  Lifting my chin, I looked at her.

  “Jesus got up on that cross and died for you, knowing that you would do everything that you’ve done, Clay. Yeah. Lots of what you’ve done isn’t exactly good. I can promise you I’m no saint either.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean our sins are too big for God.”

  Sniffing, I looked across the field and back toward Janice’s house behind Katie. Thinking about Janice, Gail and Cindy, I shook my head as sadness over all the damage I had caused sent me sinking into a state of depression. “I think you should go.”

  Rising to her feet, she left without another word. As she cut through the field, I turned back to Mr. Kilgore’s yard and saw that the calico was gone from underneath the shaded tree. I scanned the property the best I could, but I couldn’t see the cat anywhere. Probably went to find another innocent victim to kill.

  Picking up my gun, I stood up and headed back to Janice’s house. On the porch, I picked up Kip’s cage and took it over to the patio’s shed. As I opened the door, I saw my fishing pole and thought about tomorrow’s trip with Paul. Going fishing with the sun beating down on my sunburned body didn’t sound like a good time. But I felt the desire to know what happened to the Paul who loved my sister and had been planning to marry her.

  CHAPTER 17

  Cold water splashed across my face the next morning, causing my heart to skip a beat as I launched up from the couch. Wiping the water from my face, I saw Janice standing in front of me with furrowed eyebrows and a look like she wanted to stab me.

  “What’s your problem?” I snapped at her.

  Her eyes shifted behind me. Turning, I saw Paul. “Oh,” I replied, rubbing my neck. “I overslept?”

  Paul nodded. “You don’t do mornings well, do you?”

  Thinking about the day I had yesterday, I shook my head. “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Where’s Kip’s cage?” Janice asked. “I went out back to put the sprinkler out last night and saw it was gone.”

  “Kip’s dead,” I replied dryly.

  Paul interjected. “I’ll be out in the truck.”

  “Okay. Give me five.”

  He nodded and headed out the door. As it clicked shut, Janice said, “So now you’re hanging out with my ex-boyfriend?” She sighed heavily. “You’re so annoying! Ugh!”

  “I thought he was your ex-fiancé.” Shaking my head, I repeated my earlier statement. “Kip’s dead, Janice.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “It was a bird! I don’t care!”

  Uncontrollable tears welled in my eyes.

  “Seriously?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’re upset about a bird?”

  I got up, ignoring her, and went and found my sandals.

  She followed after me. “You are. You’re devastated about the stupid bird.” She glanced toward the hallway. “You didn’t mention anything about the fact that Cindy’s gone. Let me guess, that’s not a big deal, because your bird is dead?”

  As I finished putting my sandals on, I stood up and looked at her. “You asked about Kip. That’s why I didn’t mention Cindy.”

  “Well. Okay. What happened? Why is Cindy gone?”

  Heading to the back porch to grab my pole, I didn’t reply. That didn’t stop Janice. She followed me and kept asking.

  Stopping at the shed door on the porch, I looked back at her. “She wanted to go home. Gail showed up while we were down at the water.”

  “Down at the water?” Janice asked. “She was sick yesterday.” She pressed her hand against her forehead. “Why would you take your sick daughter swimming?”

  Shrugging, I grabbed my pole and shut the door. “She wanted to. Guess I’m a bad parent.” Walking past her, I headed back through the house. Again, she followed me.

  “Stop throwing a pity party, Clay. You screwed up. Why’d Gail come though? Did you know she was?”

  I shook my head. “No. I guess Cindy called her at some point yesterday.” Opening the front door, I left.

  Coming out to the truck, I noticed the boat that Paul had in tow. It was a dark gray paddle boat, but it was in superb condition. “We’re boating today, eh?” I said as I set my pole inside the boat and came around the truck.

  Climbing into the truck, I saw him nodding as he looked over at me. “We are. Remember? I told you that last week.” He seemed to have something weighing on his mind. Th
ere was just a look like his thoughts were elsewhere.

  “Oh, yeah. That’s right. Well, I like it,” I replied, looking through the window to the boat. “Seems cozy.”

  He nodded again, but said nothing. Putting the truck into drive, we were off to Bear Lake.

  Out on the lake, Paul and I shared silence between us as we rigged our lures and cast out our lines. A relatively calm morning, the water was still as we both waited for bites on our hooks.

  Then Paul broke the silence.

  “I found out I have a son.”

  My eyebrows shot up, and I jerked my head in his direction. His eyes were fixed on the water. “Wow.”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “With the woman you were at the pool—”

  He shook his head and dipped his chin. In a quiet and shamed tone, he said, “No.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. There were a million questions running through my mind.

  “I guess she never told me because she didn’t think I’d be a good father to him.” His voice was deep and echoed hurt.

  “That’s jacked.” Keeping my eyes on him, I asked, “How old is the kid?”

  “Ten. Guess he plays two hand touch at the YMCA and has friends and . . .” Paul let out a sigh. “A life. I don’t know how to process it all, man. And when I found out, that’s when I screwed everything up with Janice.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  He shrugged and looked over at me. “I didn’t know how to tell her that I had a son. You know? We had plans to have kids and have this life and family and . . . having a kid out there just kind of threw a wrench in the whole plan.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “Man. I’m sorry. That’d be so hard.”

  He nodded and set his pole down so it was leaning against the edge of the boat. He turned around on his seat and looked at me. “You don’t even know. I went by his practice the other day and saw him out there on the football field. Number twelve. He was running, catching balls and throwing ‘em around to other kids.” He shook his head and looked down at the floor of the boat. “I missed so much of his life while some guy that wasn’t his dad had been raising him.”