“That’s it?” Linda asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“She never called you again?”
“Nope.”
“What about Jesus?”
“What about him?”
Linda leaned forward with a mischievous look. “Did he ever call you?”
“Oh yeah, you’re real funny!”
They laughed, Chase realizing he had never enjoyed someone’s presence as much as this.
Linda suddenly turned sober. “Chase, have you ever done anything about religion? I mean, do you believe in God?”
“Of course I do. I’m Catholic.”
“Oh.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“Do I believe in God? Sure. I mean, I was raised in church. Not Catholic. I was Baptist. I went to Sunday school and all that. I really liked the camps because of all the boys,” she remembered with a grin. “So, yeah, I believe in God. I just don’t talk about it much.”
“Well that’s okay with me. I don’t like people trying to cram things down my throat like they have something I need. God is God, and that’s enough for me.”
The two continued to date for the next several months. Since their careers in sales and marketing overlapped, they spent countless hours helping each other, discussing market trends, and brainstorming corporate-sales and management issues. They talked children, dreams, goals, life’s joys and pleasures.
Though he was never completely certain at what point they fell in love, Chase felt so free from a life of rejection, failure, and self-inflicted isolation that it seemed as if his other life never existed. He knew and experienced love for the first time, not only because Linda helped heal his wounds but because they were such a perfect match intellectually and emotionally.
Chase had never shared his feelings with anyone before this relationship. He didn’t even know that he had long wrestled with his true identity, with deep father issues, or with fear of vulnerability. Somehow Linda made him feel safe enough for self-revelation, and somehow she always had the right words to say, bringing comfort to his soul.
He knew that Linda loved his sense of humor and his easygoing nature. She told him so. One night she surprised him, however, by saying that she trusted him more because of his past, not in spite of it. She quoted someone who once said, “Don’t follow anyone who doesn’t walk with a limp!”
Since Linda admired all that he had endured over the years, Chase felt ready to limp down the aisle with her as his wife. Their first several years proved marvelous. Each had never met a closer counterpart.
CHAPTER 8
Chase found a nice Dominican—dark, rich wrapper, soft and pliable—in his humidor. Linda had retreated to their bedroom. After agreeing to go to dinner, they each apparently required time to regroup after the revealing session with Doctor Rhinegold. Chase pocketed his lighter and his cutter and headed for the French doors leading to the patio at the back of the house, his favorite place to think and to unwind.
Sitting for a moment on the padded porch swing, he carefully prepared his cigar with a few licks of his tongue. Satisfied, he let the lighter toast the end until it produced a bright red glow. Chase took a couple of puffs, watching thick trails of smoke wisp away in the gentle breeze. He stared thoughtfully at the wrapper, noticing the skillfully woven tobacco leaves. Studying the lines and the folds and the shades of brown, his eyes fastened upon his wedding ring. He quickly shifted his focus.
Becoming reflective, Chase slowly twisted the ring back and forth with his right index finger and his thumb. He sighed deeply, thinking of the how-to marriage books he had faithfully skimmed and of the short-lived alterations he had made to his life. Chase was frustrated at his feeble attempts to be someone he knew he couldn’t be. He let go of the ring, took another puff, and rubbed his eyes wearily.
Several crows in a nearby pepper tree seemed to be in turmoil. One of them—probably a female, Chase thought with a smirk—had become territorial with the others, squawking at them as she flew from branch to branch. He felt pity for the rest since they appeared to have no idea what she wanted, or perhaps they knew but didn’t care. The apparent leader won its rights as the others fled to the safety of a nearby telephone line on the side of the house.
Chase looked down at the burning cigar in his hand, caressing it with his thumb. His eyes drifted toward the yard. The flower bed needed watering. Two small trees begged for a trim. A little play area for Amy and Ryan held an outdated wooden structure with a plastic ladder and a slide, and three small swings, still dirty from previous rains. Chase knew outside maintenance was his responsibility, but he never seemed to have time. He cared about it. He wanted to provide a neatly manicured lawn. It was just that … His mind drifted. Chase forced himself to concentrate entirely on the flavor of his cigar.
He was staring at the growing ash on the cigar when he noticed something that sent chills down his spine: the silky threads of a giant spider web attached to the side of his swing, near his right hip. He sat frozen, staring at the oddity, fearful of moving away from it. Looking upward, he observed the web stretched taut between where he sat and the posts supporting the patio structure.
Chase’s head jerked backward in terror when he saw a huge, hideous black widow busying herself near the outer edge of the web, her long front legs flying to and fro. Not until she scuttled away after weaving a solid strand of silk and securing it firmly to a post did Chase realize what he’d been watching. Something struggled helplessly at the center of the web, bound by sticky threads, some of which stretched to the perimeter of the web, anchoring the creature securely to it.
The black widow had been wrapping her prey. Staring at the spider’s bound victim, Chase realized with a start that the face looking imploringly back at him was none other than his own—drawn, malnourished, and ashen with wide, panic-stricken eyes and a tight mouth attempting to form words.
The spider returned and crouched over her prey. He was trapped. Chase watched in horror as the black widow made her next inevitable move, her victim feeling powerless against such an indomitable enemy. A scream formed in his throat. Nothing came out. His head recoiled, nearly hitting the stucco on the house. Suddenly he was startled by the appearance of huge fingers sweeping through the web to release the spider’s prey. Chase looked on in utter amazement as the prodigious hand lifted the victim aloft. He was set free!
Then descriptive words rushed furiously toward his face from the spider’s web. A three-dimensional vision appeared to be occurring right before him, his body rescued from its captor but partially wrapped in broken fibers of the webbing. Letters of the alphabet spun tauntingly, suddenly disintegrated, and then returned full force as complete words, zooming in upon him: vulnerability, touch, abandonment, anger, pride. One at a time they came at him with heightened speed and then vanished just as rapidly.
What on earth is going on? he asked himself, sitting as erect as he could in the motionless swing, knowing that he didn’t have an answer.
“These are the lies you’ve always believed about yourself.”
Rattled by his own voice, Chase screamed, “What? These are lies about myself?” As soon as he asked, he knew it to be true; four, five, maybe six lifetime lies jumping out of the spider’s web beneath him were his. Instantly he perceived that he had been ensnared by these untruths, which he had accepted and which were now being exposed before his eyes.
“But what do I do now?”
“Watch me,” came his voice in return.
“Watch who? Watch what?” he called out to the tree before him.
Chase snapped out of his state, quickly looking for tangible signs of the event—a spider, a web, anything. He saw nothing.
He studied his hip where the web had formed just inches from him. More chills ran down his back, and perspiration stained the armpits of his shirt. Chase wiped his brow and sat
in silence, trembling, his heart still pounding.
Through overhanging trees, he watched the sun sink slowly amid the billowy clouds far beyond. He looked at the pepper tree in front of him. The crow was gone. He could hear every sound—his children playing next door in the neighbors’ backyard, birds chirping as they flew overhead, cars pulling into driveways. All his senses were acute as he attempted to understand this enigma, cautiously intrigued by it. Had he gone insane? Had his anxiety and stress finally caught up with him? Had this really happened? He needed to talk with Linda.
Chase noticed his neglected cigar, long out. He tossed it into the ashtray and walked inside, shaking his head, feeling spent.
A little after seven, their children at home with a sitter, Chase and Linda sat across from each other at Giuseppe’s.
It wasn’t the first time they’d had dinner there, and long-ago memories temporarily displaced images of giant spiders, sticky webs, and flying phrases. Chase looked at his wife, her green eyes beautiful in the candlelight. He suddenly felt shy.
“Bet you don’t remember what we ordered the first time we were here.”
“Of course I do,” she said coyly.
“Oh, come on. Really?”
“You had spaghetti, which I thought rather funny since this restaurant is so nice. And I had, um—wait a minute, Chase. This is nice, the restaurant, the candles, reminiscing and all, but we have some serious issues here.”
“I understand that. And I definitely want to find a resolution, but … well, I just think it’s important for us to try to enjoy each other in the midst of it. You know me. I’m a fighter, but I definitely don’t want to fight you. You’ve been a wonderful wife, an amazing mother, and I simply don’t want to lose what we have.”
“Well we can’t sweep everything under the carpet!”
Chase nodded. “That’s true, and I don’t want to. I just know that the person you married is still here and completely in love with you despite my failures at showing it. Babe, I’m committed to us, and I hope you are as well.”
“I am.”
The waiter stepped up to their table for their drink orders. A short, round man, completely bald except for a few side patches of hair, he wore a simple expression and was extremely courteous and friendly. Chase had known him for years.
“Thanks, Freddie. And could you bring out the asparagus appetizer to start with?”
“Sure.”
Freddie left and Chase continued to stare intently into Linda’s eyes. He gently took her hand. “You’re not going to believe what happened to me when I was outside this afternoon.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s hard to explain, but I was sitting there, thinking about everything we’ve been going through and hoping that I could change but not knowing how. All of a sudden I saw myself trapped in a spider web, an unnaturally massive one.”
“You saw this?”
“I don’t know, Linda, maybe it was a vision or something, but it seemed as real as you and me sitting here. But catch this. A menacing black widow was spinning me in this sticky web. And then, out of nowhere, an enormous hand swooped in and plucked me out, pulling me back into myself, and as—”
“What do you mean?” Linda interrupted.
“About what?”
“About an enormous hand.”
“I’m not sure. It happened so fast. But when that hand snatched me out of the web, it brought me up toward where I was sitting.” Chase saw Linda lean back a little with a puzzled expression, her right hand stroking her curls. “I know. It’s a bit uncanny to say the least.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m sorry. It’s weird, but go on.”
“Well then I got a picture of a bunch of words being released from the web, moving toward me at lightning speed. They were lies I’ve believed about myself for a lifetime. I’m not sure where all of this is heading, but I am interested in focusing on them to see if these things can be overcome, at least if that’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“So you believe some sort of action is necessary?”
“I don’t know, but listen to this.” Chase sat forward. “The strangest thing took place when I began to ask myself questions and then heard myself respond. The words came from my mouth, but they didn’t come from my own thoughts.”
“Like quick mental responses?”
“I guess so, but I’ve never experienced anything at all like it. I told myself, ‘Watch me!’ I said aloud that the words I saw myself being freed from were lies about myself. It’s as if the answers have resided inside of me all along! Isn’t that crazy?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Linda asked, withdrawing her hand from his.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Chase, sitting back in his chair with a scowl.
“Well you’ve had a history with drugs, and you’re in the middle of a very stressful situation. I don’t know. It just seems like this could be some sort of a mental breakdown.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Of course I am. After all, look at the way you’ve recently been tormenting yourself. And what about the possibility of your former drug use affecting your mind? I mean, at the very least, maybe it’s some sort of subconscious reaction to everything.”
“Linda, I told you this was real. You’re thinking drugs could be a factor? No way, not after all these years. And yeah, of course I’m struggling right now, but that has nothing to do with what I saw.”
“I think maybe it does. It could explain your emotional struggles. Latching on to visions sure seems like an easy way out. You’d do better to try to work on our issues as a couple.”
“Unbelievable. You’re not getting it. This has everything to do with us. Listen, Linda. All I want is to be the husband you’ve always needed and obviously longed for. I think I used to be good for you.” He said this sincerely.
“You were,” she answered flatly. “I just don’t know what happened to you.”
Chase looked at his still-outstretched hand on the table. “These lies I seem to have believed about myself are probably at the root of our troubles. Don’t you see it? Maybe they’re to blame for all of my behavior. I’m not using them as a scapegoat, but they may be the real issue behind how I’ve treated you recently.”
“So they were hidden all these years and somehow suddenly manifested themselves today?”
“I have no idea. And I can see you’re skeptical, but try to believe me when I say that I think these lies are the key to everything.”
“What are they specifically?”
“One is abandonment. This must be an issue with me, though I’ve never considered it previously. I think Doctor Rhinegold mentioned it, but I can’t be certain. Touch is another big deal, or rather not touching. But it’s the way I was raised, the way I am.”
Linda stared intently at her husband, attempting to reconcile his recent behavior with his new insights.
Chase hesitated and then continued. “What else did I see? Oh yeah, vulnerability. I don’t know how to be vulnerable, and I’m not sure I want to. Well maybe I do, but I’ve got a lot of fears. Yeah, that was another one. Man, that’s a lot of lies! And then the word pride rushed at me. I don’t think of myself as overly proud, but I guess pride must play a part somewhere. What I’ve been thinking is this: in my attempt at self-preservation, I have slowly assassinated everything good within me. Unfortunately for you, and for us, you became the ultimate victim as I became wrapped up in my own lies.” He paused. “So what do you think I’m supposed to do now?”
Linda leaned forward. “I have no idea, but I’m not willing to continue on the same way. Our lives have to change. This can’t be some temporary modification. It won’t work that way. I don’t completely understand this crazy event, but I am willing to work things out if it’s real.”
Chase grinned broadly. “I’m so happy to hear
you say that! And I’m not going to promise you this or that or tell you … Hang on a second. It may be the sitter.” He reached for the cell phone hanging at his side and recognized the number.
“Hi, Frank. How’s it going? … What? No way … Really? … All right. Yes, I will. I’ll check for flights and be out there as soon as I can … Okay, I understand.”
Cell phone still in hand, Chase turned to Linda, ashen and dazed. “My mom’s dying. I’ve got to go back to New York.”
“Dying?” Linda leaped out of her chair, rushing to embrace her husband. She knelt in front of him, holding his knees. “I’m so sorry, hon’. Can I do anything to help”?
“I don’t know. Can you come with me?”
“Of course, but what about the children and school? I know it’s awkward to ask this, but how long do you think we might be away?”
“Who knows? Frank said she’s somewhat stable at this point. The doctor guesses she may pass in the next week or so.” Chase took Linda’s hands with a gentle squeeze. “It’s all right, babe. Why don’t we do this? I’ll go out and see what’s happening. If I think you and the kids should follow, we’ll make the necessary plans.”
“Okay.”
Chase dropped off the sitter at her home while Linda read Amy and Ryan to sleep. As they prepared for bed, Chase gently guided his wife toward him. “You know I love you,” he said.
“I love you too.”
Chase couldn’t recall the last time he felt so passionate toward Linda. He held her tightly as if this would be their last night together. Their lovemaking was wonderful for both of them, but Linda needed much more. She thought about her own issues of abandonment, how alone she felt at seventeen when her parents divorced, how she desperately searched for young men to fill the void. Her emptiness remained until she met Chase. He was everything she longed for in a man: handsome, spirited, and ambitious. Though a successful businesswoman, Linda desired someone stronger than she, a motivated, career-minded man who was emotionally present and tender. Despite his moments of anger and passive aggression, Chase had proven to be genuine and caring.
Broken Lies Page 7