Broken Lies

by Roger Williams

  “That’s fine with me,” she agreed with a sigh. “That’s all I can ask for.” At least she felt that way at the moment.

  “Okay then.” Chase pecked her on the cheek and helped her with the dishes.

  **

  Amy and Ryan loved the arrival of winter, which gave them their first experience with snowballs, their father becoming the victim of his own instructions of how to make and throw them. One Saturday afternoon in December, Frank came over shivering from the cold with an invitation in hand.

  “Hey Chase, you remember Danny Eister?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well he’s getting married next month and sent out an invite. Thought you and Linda might want to come. I’ll give him a call if you do.”

  “Is this his first marriage after all these years?”

  “No, actually it’s his third!”

  “Wow! That’s crazy. When is it?”

  “January 20. You guys wanna go?”

  “Sure. That’d be great. Hey, why don’t you join me for a cigar? I was just about to head outside.”

  “Come on, Chase, you know I don’t smoke anymore. Haven’t for years.”

  “Oh, it’s no big deal, just a cigar. I’ve got the perfect one for a beginner.” Without waiting for a response, Chase hurried to his office and pulled out a couple of Dominicans, Frank following reluctantly behind. “Here you go,” he said with a grin, handing his brother one with a lighter wrapping than the Maduros he preferred. “Let’s go out back and talk. I’ll grab a jacket first. You want a beer?”

  “Wait, Chase,” Frank said as he stared at the foreign object in his hand. “I don’t need to do this. Really.”

  “Just try it. You want a beer or not?”

  “Sure. Fine.”

  Chase cleared snow from one of the old benches and wiped his hand clean on his pants before they sat down. Clouds shadowed the fountain behind them, the sun peeking through just enough to create an illusion of large white spots on the otherwise gray work of art. Chase cut both cigars, handing one to his brother and instructing him how to keep it lit. After taking a few puffs and watching coils of gray smoke rising against the stark white background, Frank said he liked it—a little.

  “So what do think about Bush being our new president?” Chase asked nonchalantly, pulling the collar of his jacket more tightly around his neck.

  Frank frowned. “You want to talk politics?”

  “Well, not really. Just wondered what you thought.”

  “I voted for Gore, so I don’t know. Hopefully he’ll be good. What about you?”

  “I’ve never voted in my life, but I think Bush may be all right.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the smoke billow away in the chilly breeze. This was the first time the brothers had shared a cigar together, and Chase enjoyed the experience immensely. He hoped Allie wouldn’t be too terribly mad at him. “How are you and Allie doing,” he finally asked, “I mean, as far as considering the possibility of your own lies?”

  “You mean the ones we talked about at your birthday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Allie still has a hard time understanding why she’s unable to have children. We don’t talk about it much. Thought about adoption years ago, but she never wanted to do that.”

  “What about you?”

  “Oh, I thought adopting a child might help, but—”

  “No, I mean about the rejection issue.”

  “I don’t know, Chase. I really don’t think it’s all that big of a deal. That was a long time ago. I’d rather not even go there.”

  “No, I understand. I’m not trying to dig up past hurts. It’s just that I’ve discovered the freedom that’s possible after dealing with issues that’ve been covered up by lies about ourselves. But hey, if you feel you’re okay, that’s great.”

  “Well wait a minute.” Frank hesitated and took another puff. “It’s not that I feel okay and everything’s fine. I mean, you’re probably right about me feeling rejected by Dad, but I think it goes deeper than that. I totally resent him for what he did to all of us, particularly to Mom. I can’t just forgive and forget.”

  “Hey, I know, and believe me, I can relate. But what good has it done us to leave it at that? Mom and Dad are gone but we live on. It’s not as if we can punish Dad with our anger and resentment. I’m realizing that we’re punishing ourselves if we continue down that road.”

  “Like it’s doing something to us instead of him. Sounds pretty obvious,” Frank said, ”especially now that he’s dead.”

  “Right. And it not only affects us but those around us. If I remain resentful toward Dad, that decision, along with the rejection and abandonment issues I held on to, will continue to influence my behavior toward others. At least that’s what I think.”

  “Well it definitely sounds like you’re on to something here.”

  “How’s your cigar, by the way?”

  “Fine. I don’t think I can handle much more, though.”

  “You don’t have to. No problem.” Chase tapped off about a half-inch of his own ash and continued. “So anyway, you and I were teenagers when everything happened, and now we’re adults. This issue with Dad is just one of the many lies that’ve trapped us for far too long. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to become free of every lie if that’s possible. I know it’ll allow my perception of others to change, which will then cause me to treat them in a healthier fashion, I mean as far as expectations and such. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

  “Sure, but what exactly do you think the lie is?”

  “Good question. I would think that it started with the belief that Dad should have not done what he did.”

  “He shouldn’t have!” Frank insisted.

  “I agree, but that’s the tricky thing about lies. Sure he shouldn’t have left us, but we’re not responsible for his actions, just for our own. I’m thinking that as long as we hold on to something like injustice, it only increases the power of the web around ourselves. It has no effect on the other person.”

  “I can see that, but I don’t understand how my reaction to Dad’s behavior is some sort of a lie that I believed.”

  “Well how about this? You may believe the lie that you could’ve done something about Dad’s departure, or that you were somehow responsible, or that your anger and resentment are justified punishment for him. I’m suggesting that becoming free of the lie is a much better way to go.”

  Frank wore an enigmatic expression. “So you’re saying I need to forgive him?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’m not a therapist. I’m just saying, based on my recent experiences, that the way we live our lives and treat others is directly related to the lies we’ve accepted as truth. And in this case, the truth is that Dad chose his own path. There’s nothing we could’ve done to change that, so we simply have to let it go and live our lives. You want to keep Dad bound in chains, but they have instead bound you.”

  Frank thought for a moment. “Okay, Chase, maybe you’re right, but it’s a bit too much to process right now.”

  “You’d rather talk politics?”

  “Not really!”

  Several days later, Chase crafted a letter to Amy and Ryan on a single sheet of paper. He then scribbled on the outside of an envelope a message saying they should read it after his death. He and Linda had already set up an official trust, but he felt it necessary, even if he lived for another fifty years, to have something in writing that explained his recent experiences. These were personal reflections from a loving father.

  Dear Amy and Ryan,

  At I write these words, you are much too young to grasp what I want to tell you, but by the time you read this, you will be mature enough to understand. I lived a good life, loved your mother with all my heart, and treasured both of you beyond words. Yo
u will have certainly heard me relate the story about the spider web of lies I was freed from and how my life was never again the same. I will have told you about the hand I saw and the voice I heard, which some have concluded were the hand and the voice of God. I am not certain of this, nor perhaps are they.

  Since this will be my final communication with you, though written when you were young, please consider my advice very seriously. Without a doubt, you too have lies that have bound you, keeping you from becoming who you should be. Most often these lies are based on fear, but they can also be based on such things as pride, insecurity, and anger. If it was really God who rescued me from myself, then seek him out so you can live free of self-deception. If I was simply getting in tune with what already resided within me, then seek what is within you.

  As you can see, I don’t know for sure how things happened to me, but I do know, as clearly as I know anything, what it was that occurred. The what will be one the greatest things you will ever find, because your lies will have been exposed and you will discover liberty from harmful attitudes and destructive behavior. If you learn the how, meaning that the source of your rescue is something within you or God himself, and you conclude this is important to the process, then you will have come even further than I did.

  My greatest hope is that you will find freedom from lies about yourself that you’ve accepted, became attached to, and then have allowed to dictate your behavior. I remember hearing once that the truth will set you free. Well it did for me, and that is my deepest longing for you.

  I love you both dearly,

  Dad

  Chase read the letter carefully once more before folding it, placing it in the envelope, glancing at his instructions on the envelope, and sealing it. Walking across the bedroom, he pulled out of his desk a small box of important documents and placed the envelope inside.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Chase, you look so nice!” Linda marveled.

  “Well it is a wedding we’re going to. And look at you! You’re beautiful!”

  “All I really care about is staying warm.”

  “Good luck!”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Danny Eister scheduled his wedding for four o’clock. Known as the Protestant kid down the block from the Macklins, he was two years older than Chase and just a year younger than Frank. They played together growing up but lost contact after high school when Frank entered college and Chase immersed himself in life under Murphy. Frank reconnected several years later, he and Allie attending both of Danny’s previous weddings. He assured everyone that this one would be his last.

  On the way, Chase peeked at Linda. “You know what, babe? I just realized I’ve never been to a wedding like this before, just Catholic ones. I hope nothing’s weird.”

  “At a wedding?” she said with a giggle. “What do you think they might do there?”

  “Well you don’t have to laugh at me! I don’t know. It won’t be the same, no priest or anything.

  “As if you really care about that type of thing. Come on. Let’s just have a good time.”

  When they entered the church parking lot, Chase noticed how small and nondescript the building appeared; it was nothing like the ornate Catholic churches. He couldn’t figure out why someone would choose such a place for a wedding. Nothing much to it. Finding a space close to where Frank parked, he went around to open Linda’s door.

  “Chase, it’s freezing!” She huddled next to him, teeth chattering. “I just, just can’t get used to this weather.”

  He laughed loudly. “I agree, but that’s life on the East Coast! It’s not all that bad, but hey, you should be quite warm underneath all those layers!”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  The church’s interior surprised him: dark wooden pews with the sun peeking through stained-glass windows on the left side of the building. The carefully maintained wood floors were accented with rich, golden-brown carpet. At the altar, set off with an ornate, stained-wood railing, the carpet climbed up a step onto the stage before disappearing behind a pure white curtain with a golden sash. This place was probably built in the 1940s, Chase mused. Though much different from the church his family rarely attended, it felt comfortable in a way.

  A man in a tuxedo escorted Chase and Linda to the third row on the right, and Frank motioned for them to sit next to him and Allie. The two were no sooner seated when Danny and the minister headed down the aisle toward the front. Frank leaned over Allie and whispered. “Chase, you’re late! You almost missed it!”

  “Yeah, I know,” he whispered back. “Linda and I were—oh man, don’t look behind you. On the other—Frank, don’t look! Murphy is on the other side of the aisle. I can’t believe it.”

  Frank’s brow furrowed. “Murphy? What in world is he doing here? Are you sure?” Frank sat back and slowly turned to look out of the corner of his eye. He saw enough to verify that Chase was right.

  Pleased that the wedding lasted only about twenty minutes, Chase took Linda’s hand after the ceremony and followed the group out of the church. Murphy limped beyond the five or six people in front of them. Walking down the steps to the parking lot, Chase called out, “Hey! Murphy!”

  “Hey what?” Murphy spun around as he spoke. “Oh, Mack, it’s you. Saw ya inside. Figured I’d see ya at the reception. How ya doin’, kid?”

  “Fine. This is my wife, Linda.”

  “Nice to meet ya.”

  “Well it’s nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her gloved hand. “Chase has told me so much about you.”

  Murphy let out a guffaw. “That can’t be good!”

  “No, it is! Especially your generosity with the house.”

  “Naw, that was no big deal. Didn’t like it no more. Too cold in there. My old bones prefer the Florida heat—speakin’ of which, I need to get outta here. See ya at the reception.” He turned and stepped into his car without another word.

  Most of the guests were already seated at the veterans hall when Chase and Linda arrived. They found Frank and Allie at a table by themselves. Linda joined them while Chase headed over to the drink table where Murphy stood by himself.

  “So what brings you here, Murphy?”

  “Oh, I’m an old friend of the bride’s parents. Nice folks. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “How’ve you been?”

  “Not too good, Mack. Gettin’ old, ya know.”

  “I noticed something’s wrong with your leg. What happened?”

  “What happened? Nothin’! Just gettin’ old,” he repeated.

  “Well I’m glad you’re here. I’ve wanted to talk with you about all the things I’ve been through over the years, particularly this year, but I didn’t think it’d ever happen. Would you like to grab a table?”

  “Sure. Lemme grab another drink first.”

  Chase spied a place where they could be alone. He began his story back in 1987, recounting how he flew out to California to start a new life. He told Murphy about finding work, about slipping up the day he smoked pot, about his first marriage, and about meeting and marrying Linda. Murphy seemed genuinely interested, peppering him with questions. Chase felt he might be ready to hear about the spider web. He observed Murphy’s intensity increase as he shared the story.

  “A huge web, ya say?”

  “Yeah, with me in it.”

  “Interesting.”

  Chase told of hearing his own voice speaking to him and asked Murphy what he thought about that.

  Murphy took a long swig from his glass, shaking his head. “Don’t have a clue, Mack. Sounds a bit crazy to me.”

  “Me too, but my life has never been the same since that day.”

  “Good for you,” Murphy responded with sudden indifference.

  Chase pretended he didn’t notice and pressed forward, recounting the exposure of the lies about himself and how he visited his
father’s grave.

  “Ya never did like your dad.”

  “Oh, I know. But everything’s different now.”

  “Okay, fine. So why ya tellin’ me all a this?”

  “Well, it’s just that I think that, um, we all struggle with lies about ourselves and others. But the thing is, I’ve found out that a person doesn’t have to continue down that road. There’s real freedom to be discovered, freedom from yourself and from who you’ve always thought you were.”

  “So you’re sayin’ I got some lies!” Murphy snapped. “You’re tryin’ to change an old man? Is that what you’re doin’?”

  Chase pulled back defensively. He envisioned Aunt Betty talking to him about God. Had he come full circle and begun pushing his own route to deliverance upon others?

  “No, not at all, Murphy. I’m sorry if I came across that way. I just wanted you to hear what I’ve been through. You can take it or leave it. No big deal.”

  “Well it’s obviously a big deal ta you! Anyhow, thanks a lot for tellin’ me. How are your kids?”

  “Great! They love it here, especially the snow.”

  “They like the house?”

  “Yeah, they really do.”

  “Good. Well I’m gonna get another drink. Ya better get back to your wife.”

  “Okay, Murphy. Take care of yourself.”

  “Always do.”

  “How did that go?” Linda asked as Chase slumped down by the three of them.

  “Okay, I guess. I just shared with him what’s happened with me over the years.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You seem a bit, I don’t know, unsettled.”

  “Well, he is a rather exhausting man to communicate with.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m too tired to tell you!” Chase answered with a smirk.

  Chase had a little too much to drink at the reception, and after putting the children to bed that night, he immediately fell asleep. He dreamed he was strolling down a sidewalk with some old friends, guys he recognized from his past, laughing at a few crude jokes. A man wearing a red bandana walked up to them, his tattered clothes and foul odor indicating a life on the streets. He struck up a conversation, most of it senseless chatter. Suddenly the man pulled out a knife. Chase’s friends quickly deserted him. The man then lunged at Chase, stabbing him in the side. Blood spurted out, and the man attacked him again. Chase swung back, fists desperately pounding the air. He hurried to a nearby car, the man in pursuit. Chase climbed inside, bloodying the steering wheel as he sped away.