by Mason Dakota
“So what are you going to do the next time you encounter your father?” Michael asked, bringing me back to the guys’ conversation. I cringed. I didn’t really want to discuss my father—especially during such a happy party.
Can’t I just have one day off—just one?
“Can we please not talk about this, especially here and now?”
“I am just saying twenty years is a long time. Then last night he tries to kill you,” said Michael.
“I see you’ve been briefed on last night’s mission,” I mumbled.
“I informed them all,” said Thomas. “They all had a right to know.” Thomas was always better at being a team player. Maybe the snarl I showed him wasn’t necessary. I glanced at Gabriel who quietly watched me. This was my team now, not his and he wouldn’t interfere on my leadership. I am sure he wanted to know my answer as badly as Michael.
“I couldn’t imagine how I would react seeing him if I were in your shoes. I just wonder if you have a plan of action for when you meet him.” said Michael trying to defend himself and maybe Thomas, too.
“Well, you know what Michael, when I see him I’ll make sure to later inform you of exactly how I reacted. Until then don’t ask me how it makes me feel or what I plan to do. Got it?” I said. I blamed my aggravation on the odd mix of happiness, depression, stress, and exhaustion I felt. The alcohol didn’t help.
Gabriel gave me a raised eyebrow look. He didn’t approve of my leadership. I didn’t either.
“You can’t blame him for being curious. We all are. Last night your father didn’t try to kill you…he tried to kill Shaman. There’s a difference. We just want to know what you are thinking,” said Thomas, trying to ease some of the building tension. I appreciated him for that, but it didn’t help me calm down.
“We will deal with him the same way with or without the mask. If he’s guilty, then he’ll face judgment. History and blood does not excuse any crime,” I said…a bit harsher than I would have liked. Frustration drove my words. I never was good at controlling my emotions. In all honesty I had no idea how I would react, let alone whether my father was actually guilty—we had no proof—and that terrified and frustrated me. I didn’t know if I would try to embrace my father or kill him. I certainly did not know what he might do to me. My lack of knowledge coupled with my inability to trust and figure out who knew the truth sent my frustration into orbit.
“Griffon, relax. It’s just an innocent question,” Gabriel said softly, but the longer I dwelled on everything the more upset I got. I was lost in dreaming about what could have been between Evelyn and me. I was scared for my city and friends. And suddenly I was a boy again, wanting to be loved by a father too distant to ever show it before he was gone from my life. Too many emotions were impossible to process at one time. I was overloaded and wanted peace and quiet.
“Shut up, Gabriel. You no longer get to tell me what to do,” I growled.
My blood pumped faster. Dark thoughts swam through my brain. I had to get away and clear my head before I said something even worse. My high emotions mixed with my lack of self-control made me dangerous to be around and I did not want that for my friends. So I jumped up and made some ridiculous excuse about getting some fresh air for a minute.
I rushed out of the room in a panic of anxiety before any of them could stop me.
Somehow I even managed to ruin this day.
Thirty-Eight
The first cool breeze of fall sliced through my suit as I made my way around the church where a gravel path cut into a beautiful garden courtyard. I found a stone bench in the center where I sat for quite some time staring up into the heavens, listening to my pulse slow.
I hated my quick temper. It didn’t take much and like a sour wine it aged with time. I grew more and more hopeless and more and more angry at the world with each passing day. No cure or release came from a self-awareness of the problem. I only saw the tearing at the seams of my sanity clearer than before.
I just can’t ignore a problem.
Even if I knew I couldn’t accomplish the task, I always sought a solution, even if it could get me killed. Why couldn’t I just let this all go, relax, and try to live a normal life? I mean, I had a nice paying job where I actually made a difference for Outcasts, and it wasn’t enough for me. I had friends who loved and cherished me, for reasons unknown, yet I couldn’t open up to them. I had someone who wanted to be with me, who I insisted upon pushing away.
Why couldn’t I set my wants aside for her? We could be happy, and yet like all things I have to destroy the things that matter the most to me because of some deep seated desire to prove something to myself and everyone else.
If I weren’t known as the guy who could fix the world’s problems who was I? Who was Griffon Nightlock without the mask, without Shaman? I spent my entire life dreaming about being a hero, pretending I would grow up to be Shaman. Who was I without that? Why couldn’t I just put away the mask and leave it to someone else to make a difference? Does the world really need Shaman and Griffon Nightlock interfering into every affair?
All the mask and its responsibilities brought me in the end was pain.
What will it take to finally end all this?
“Hello stranger.”
I jumped in fright, so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice Chamberlain standing in front of me. It was like he had always been there but I was seeing him for the first time. He leaned heavily on a cane but his face lacked any sign of pain or discomfort. He stood there smiling down at me, so joyful today, as he waited for a reply. There was no rush in his eyes. He had all the patience in the world waiting for a reply from someone who had no right to speak to him.
“Um…hi,” I muttered.
He smiled and asked, “Would you mind scooting over to let a weak man sit?” I suppose he hid his pain and discomfort with the ease of a smile. Honestly, sometimes I didn’t think him to be human. I slid over. Chamberlain moved forward and sat down next to me, trying to stifle a gasp of discomfort and pain as he bent down.
We sat there quietly and stared straight ahead into the garden. Our silence resembled a pounding drum. I didn’t dare speak first. While it may have been clearly uncomfortable for me, Chamberlain seemed to be enjoying himself, a smile stretched across his face as he stared out upon the garden and soaked in its beauty. We saw the same image before us, but I suspected Chamberlain saw this garden vastly different than me. He saw it with life, and I only saw it with an approaching death of winter.
Finally, Chamberlain broke the silence. “I’m sorry Griffon. I know things have been tough for you. You pretend to be so strong for everyone. We know you took on a huge burden for us. You’ve done your best to avoid each of us…particularly me. I knew you were keeping something from me, but I waited patiently for you to tell me on your terms. I understand now why you kept it, but I was angry and hurt you didn’t trust us to help carry that burden. Until I remembered that’s how you show love. You distanced yourself from us and kept this secret because you love us. You were afraid.”
He looked at me, smiled, patted me on the shoulder, and said, “Thank you for your love, Griffon.” He let his hand drop and his face turned cold as he continued, “But the time for solitude and secrecy cannot continue. You are not alone. We’re a family and that won’t change. Don’t continue to push us away. Don’t push me away when we are trying to help.”
My heart sank. I shook my head and said, “You’re right, I did avoid you. I just didn’t trust myself anymore. I couldn’t let one of you get hurt again because of me. You didn’t deserve that after everything you’ve sacrificed for me. I just thought…I just thought it would protect everyone. But I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m overwhelmed with guilt whenever I look at any of you. I messed up—I messed up—and people died and you were almost one of them. I’m drowning—I’m a bomb waiting to blow. I’m too broken to change…and too afraid to try.”
Tears fell from my eyes as I hid my face in my hands. Once again
, Chamberlain laid one of his big paws on my shoulder. He shook me, pulling me closer to his side. In a gentle and soft voice, he whispered, “I know I’ve told you this a thousand times, and I’ll tell you a thousand times more. You are my brother. We are in this together. This family chooses to stand beside you, no matter the risk. That’s what family does.”
“Family,” I whispered softly. The words struck me like a cold knife to the heart. It dug deep and left a wound in the darkness that ate into my soul.
“I can’t do this any longer. I can’t continue to stand up for what’s right and face a city that responds with a cry for my blood. I rescue them every night but in their eyes I am the enemy. I can’t continue being Shaman when everything inside me is breaking. I fear the man I’m becoming. I’m not even sure what mask I wear anymore. Where did I go wrong? I want to give it all up, but how can I do that when thousands could die without my help? How can I continue being Shaman when my choices could cause the people I cherish to be killed? I can’t do it. I’m not strong. I am tired of trying to prove that I am strong. I am weak.”
Chamberlain took his time forming his next words. “Heroes rarely get the recognition they truly deserve. If you’re doing this for respect or selfish glory of victory, then you should quit or start looking for a replacement. That’s not the sort of savior this city needs. However, if you stand up for what’s right because you honestly believe in something greater than what is around us, then hold fast. A light is coming. This might very well all get a whole lot worse before it gets better, but better days are coming.” He smiled and said, “You are not alone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. But choose today who you are, are you Griffon or are you Shaman? Either be Shaman, or pass the mantle to someone else—or burn it for all I care. Maybe it’s time you stop fighting behind a mask and let the world see what you can accomplish as Griffon. Who knows, you may find you do a better job as Griffon than Shaman in saving us.”
Something cracked and shattered in my stone heart. A shiver, not of cold or fear, but something much purer and far more terrifying to me traveled down my spine. It burned, leaving me gasping when it broke through my chilled body and flooded into my heart and soul like a fire hydrant. I was drowning like a reed in the ocean, swaying like a tree in a hurricane. There ought to be no peace or rest in this storm and yet I was overwhelmed with the feeling of redemption, of acceptance, and of grace. All were becoming evident to me and I saw a glimpse of truth in Chamberlain’s God. A single tear gave way to a flood. I struggled to breathe as if my ribs were broken. All this screamed love, a love I’d forsaken years ago.
“Thank you. I guess I needed to hear that. I don’t deserve your friendship, but right now I really need it.”
Chamberlain smiled, patted me once more on the back and rose to his feet to head back inside. I chuckled as I wiped the last tears from my eyes. A weakening exhaustion filled me, but somehow I felt refreshed. I felt weak but strong. I was blind, and yet I could see.
“What should I do about my father? I mean, when I eventually meet him again?”
“You’re asking the wrong individual for fatherly advice,” joked Chamberlain.
“Right…sorry. I know you never met your father before he died. I honestly don’t know if you know who he was other than the fact he was a Noble. You’ve never talked about him. Sorry for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have asked you.”
He smiled and said, “It’s perfectly all right, Griffon.”
“I’m sure he would be proud of you, Chamberlain.” Again he only smiled as I asked, “Do you ever wonder who he was?”
“I know who my father is,” Chamberlain said. He smiled once again, flashing his perfect teeth and doing that thing he does where his eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief. “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
He spun around, leaving me there stunned at such a teasing nugget of a huge mystery. The jerk knew I couldn’t resist a good puzzle. I leapt to my feet and spat out a string of pointlessly unanswered questions as I jogged to catch up to Chamberlain. He ignored every one of them and managed to stay ahead of me the whole time.
It was his way of bringing me back inside to face my fears.
Thirty-Nine
I chased after Chamberlain, but as soon as I entered the building he stood by Alison’s chair offering his hand to her. I heard one of the members of the band announce the time had come for the husband and wife’s first dance together. I watched from the back of the room as Alison took Chamberlain’s hand and together they moved out onto the dance floor.
Chamberlain took hold of Alison in his arms and together the two swayed back and forth, with Chamberlain leaning upon Alison for support. That didn’t matter to either one of them. It only mattered that in this beautiful moment they were together.
A soft song sifted through the air and filled hearts with joy and romance. The happy couple moved soulfully with the music. They captivated every eye with their love for one another. I even saw Michael wiping away more tears with more tissues.
Eventually though, the song did come to a close. It was followed by another slow romantic tune. Other couples, all from Alison’s side, took the floor to join the happy couple in a sweet dance. I found myself searching the room for the one person I needed to see the most. Evelyn sat at a table by herself sipping her drink through a straw.
Before I knew it, I was making my way toward her. I blame it on all the mixed emotions and stress and the small bit of alcohol. I silently begged my legs to halt, but they refused. In all truth I felt vulnerable at the moment and lost my grip on logic. I approached Evelyn, stretched out my hand to her and asked, “May I have this dance?”
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I hoped she’d say no and spare me from feeling these old emotions again. My heart could not survive another round of this game we played. I knew hers couldn’t either. Our ending had been far too unbearable, leaving our lives in shambles. The more I found myself around her, feeding into those old comforting emotions, the more fire we both played with. We both knew it and felt it. And yet we both knew we moved closer and closer to the fire that would inevitably burn us in the end and destroy who we were. Even still I wished for her to say yes and I didn’t know why when I also felt such hatred.
That isn’t right. I did know why. It’s called hope, and it was starting to grow in me.
Her eyebrows shot up at my question. She slowly finished her drink and set her glass down on the table. With a warm and gentle smile she took my hand and my heart soared. Together we moved onto the dance floor. A small part of my brain screamed warnings at me while a much stronger part shouted for joy.
As Evelyn laid her free hand on my shoulder and I laid mine on her waist, I caught Chamberlain’s eye and his approving smile. I glared at him and stuck out my tongue. Then the band struck a chord and we were off. We danced gracefully around the floor, her much more so than I, but I held my own. Our eyes locked and for half the song neither of us spoke as we stared into each other’s eyes and held a wordless conversation.
A fog moved through my mind’s eye until all I saw was Evelyn. Eventually even the sound of the music faded away. I couldn’t tell if the song playing had a slow beat or a rushed tempo. My legs continued to move under me and carry us around the floor without my cognitive awareness. Every sight and smell vanished except that which found its life and focus upon Evelyn, from the scent in her hair to the curve of her lips when she smiled up at me, to the burning warmth of her hand on my chest, to the feeling of her body brushing up against mine. I struggled to breathe, losing my sense of reality in that moment as I stared into her crystal blue eyes.
I thought about every happy memory we shared. Our first date and how I faked clumsiness to get her to hold my hand. Our first kiss that I stumbled into that sent fireworks through my soul. The time we stayed up all night watching romantic comedies just to see the sunrise together. The time I convinced her to play a role playing game with Michael and she teased us for months about our
silly outfits and strange characters. The many nights of cheap wine and leftover pizza where we dreamed of a joyous future together.
Don’t do this Griffon. You can’t go down this road again! Not when lives are at stake!
“You look beautiful tonight,” I whispered. I meant it.
She blushed. “When did you learn to dance? You always hated dancing.”
I shrugged and to answer her question I spun her. When she fell back in close, closer than before till I felt her heartbeat against my chest, I said softly, “A lot has changed in the past year. I’m not the same man.”
Some of the spark dimmed from her eyes and she dipped her eyes from mine. “I know. This man seems colder…and full of rage. It’s like you’re fighting a war within that your losing. And yet you seem stronger, with more to live for today than you had a year ago.”
Lacking the words to say, we danced in silence. She couldn’t look up into my eyes and my focus turned to the rest of the room. The fog gradually lifted, and the happy memories slipped away. I glanced again toward Chamberlain and Alison to see them still dancing with their foreheads pressed together and their eyes closed, soaking in their special moment.
Is it too late for me to have what they have? Am I too far gone?
“Is it too late for us?” Evelyn asked the very question on my mind.
Without looking at her, I whispered, “I don’t know.”
“Look, Griffon, about what happened to us and me leaving…I just want you to know that—”
“Don’t,” I quickly interrupted, “Don’t say anything. You don’t have to because I already know.” I was lying. I wished whatever she had to say would be that she regretted leaving and that she still loved me. However, if that wasn’t what she planned to say, I don’t think I could have taken it.