Broken Lies

by Roger Williams

  “So what’s up?” Chase asked, as each of them grabbed a wooden chair at the round table.

  “Are ya hungry?”

  “No, just ate.”

  Murphy lit another cigarette. “How ‘bout a few beers?”

  “Sure.”

  “John, go get us some beer and me another drink.” Looking straight at Chase, he unpocketed an envelope and shoved it across the table. “I said I had money for ya, but this here’s even better, keys to my old house.”

  Chase’s brow wrinkled. Murphy continued as if not noticing his bewilderment. “Listen, Mack. Remember how I once told ya that if ya ever had kids, I wanted to be their godfather and that I promised to take care of ‘em?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ya got any by now?”

  “Children?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We have two.”

  “That’s good. Well I don’t go back on my word, but ya took off forever and I had no idea where ya went. When I heard about your mom, I figured you’d be around, so I been keepin’ my eyes open. Couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to see ya today. Coincidence, I guess. Anyway, I’m movin’ permanently to my place in Florida. Everything’s in storage, waitin’ to be moved. This here’s my gift.” He nodded at the envelope.

  Chase opened it and saw a couple of keys along with a title deed. “You’re giving me your house? Why?”

  “I already told ya. Makin’ good on my promise. Just my way of cleanin’ the slate. Guess I’m gettin’ soft in my old age.” He laughed alone.

  John placed the drinks on the table and sat down. Perplexed, Chase continued to stare at the keys and the document. “So what am I supposed to do with these?”

  Murphy took a sip of his whiskey. “Whatever ya want. It’s all yours, Mack.”

  Lane shifted in his chair. “This is really amazing, quite generous. What’s the catch?”

  Murphy shot him a scathing glance, his yellowed teeth menacing. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.” As suddenly as he had attacked Lane, his demeanor softened when he turned back toward Chase. “Listen to me, Mack. I’m only gonna say it once. Everything’s clear between us now. I’ve lived up to what I said, and you do whatever ya hafta do. The house is paid for, so sell it if ya hafta. I don’t really care at this point. Just do me one favor.”

  Chase knew there had to be something. Lane leaned back incredulously, arms falling to his side. Frank frowned.

  “What kind of favor?” Chase asked.

  Murphy slowly stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray with emphasis. “Remember me at Mass.”

  Chase smiled with relief. “Well I don’t do that anymore, but I will remember you and tell my kids what you’ve done.”

  “That’ll work. Now finish those beers ‘cause John and me are hungry.”

  Chase started to rise but for some reason felt compelled to offer his old boss something in return. He leaned over the table. “Say, Murphy, one day I’d like to share with you some of the things I’ve experienced since I last saw you.”

  “Why should I care?”

  “I thought … well, I thought that—”

  “We’re suddenly best buddies?” he exclaimed with a chortle. Murphy shook his head, seeing Chase’s look of dejection. “Get a grip, Mack. Take this gift a mine for what it is and get outta here!”

  “C’mon, Chase. Let’s go.” Lane stood, grabbing his brother’s arm. Chase didn’t move, paralyzed by Murphy’s insolence. “C’mon,” Lane repeated with another jerk of his hand. “Let’s leave.”

  Chase slowly rose, keeping his eyes on Murphy, hoping that perhaps he would say something positive or at least less combative. No, he thought with disappointment. He’ll never change. Far too arrogant.

  Chase held on to the envelope as if somehow afraid of it while Lane guided him away from the table. No one in the bar took notice of them.

  Once outside, Frank took Chase by both shoulders. “Listen, I don’t trust that old man. Why should we believe he’s changed? The whole thing is a bit too ideal.”

  “I don’t know, Frank,” Lane said with a furrowed brow. “You may be right, but my gut tells me this is legit, though it is pretty unbelievable.”

  “Well you can’t be too safe with a person like that.”

  Chase moved toward the car in a stupor, barely listening, fingering the envelope. Maybe Frank was right. But then again, he agreed with Lane. How could he be certain? “Let’s drive over and check it out,” he said without emotion, not caring what anyone thought.

  “Sure,” agreed Lane. “What do we have to lose?”

  “Who knows?” mumbled Frank.

  CHAPTER 14

  The house appeared unchanged, four maples out front, neatly placed brick guarding the driveway, overgrown ivy still protecting each window. The larger key easily unlocked the front door. “This is unreal,” Chase said, thinking about his last visit to this place when he had stumbled in, shot and bloodied.

  Stepping into the small living room with acacia flooring, now stripped bare of all furnishings, Chase noticed discolored outlines where paintings and pictures had hung. Shuttered windows begged for attention, paint chips falling from the trim to reveal the wood beneath. He remembered each piece of furniture as it once stood, the grandfather clock that chimed annoyingly at the top of every hour, the deep-brown leather sofa and matching love seat that Murphy made certain were always polished, the locked antique desk holding important papers and who knows what else.

  The memories belied the room’s present condition. Chase walked over to the metal grate for the floor heater and rocked back and forth on it, shifting his weight, pretending to inspect its sturdiness and safety. He rolled his eyes at his own ridiculous behavior.

  The three upstairs rooms appeared to be in fair condition, all rather undersized and nondescript but quaint nevertheless. Chase noticed a rank, musty odor, particularly as they entered what he assumed to be the master bedroom. Not exactly pungent, it was still strong enough to compel a person to scrub the walls and the ceiling. The reek might simply be due to the age of the home, but more likely it was a combination of mildew and cigarettes. Linda would never move in with this smell, regardless of the source. He’d need to do something about it as soon as possible. But when would that be? And who was he kidding? Linda would never live here.

  “Well, I guess this place is mine,” he said with an apathetic shrug as the brothers made their way down the mahogany stairs.

  “Not too bad a deal,” Lane offered, wondering why Chase seemed so glum. “Doesn’t make any sense coming from a guy like him, but what are you going to do, turn it down?”

  “Maybe,” Frank said. “We should probably consider all the possibilities.”

  “I agree,” muttered Chase. “Just can’t figure the whole thing out, whether I should be excited or cautious.”

  “Perhaps both,” Frank said. “Anyway, let’s get back to the girls. I’m sure they’re wondering what’s taking us so long.”

  “You’re probably right,” Lane agreed with a nod. “Let’s go.”

  Chase slowly followed, locked the door behind them, and then hesitated. “Hey guys, can we talk some more about this first? Frank, why don’t you call Allie and let her know we’ll be home shortly?”

  “What’s up, little brother?” Lane wanted to know.

  “There are a couple of benches in the backyard. Why don’t we sit for a few minutes and think this through?” Chase led the way around the side of the house to an unlocked gate while Frank assured Allie they wouldn’t be much longer.

  The yard used to be wonderfully kept, its centerpiece a huge rock fountain surrounded by rose bushes and three stone benches. The grass, now overgrown, shared space with weeds springing up all over the lawn and around each tree. Neglected shrubs pressed against the fence and over the edge guard of the lawn. The rose bushes sti
ll stood but without a bloom and barely clinging to life.

  Chase recalled how meticulously maintained the area was all those years ago. He and Murphy would occasionally sit by the fountain and have a few drinks, rarely discussing anything intimate—merely business, money, and the next job. Chase grew somewhat fond of the boss everyone else held in contempt, but he had enough wisdom never to ask any personal questions. The arrangement seemed to work well for both of them.

  Though the landscape, lonely and bleak, cried out for attention, Chase felt strangely refreshed as he lowered himself onto one of the benches. “Well,” he began, running his hand through his hair, “I just wanted to hear your opinion about my situation, meaning what I should do with this place.” He hesitated. “I mean, wouldn’t you agree it’s a bit strange that Linda and I suddenly own a home here in New York?”

  Lane still stood while Frank sat next to Chase. “Listen, little bro,” Lane counseled with his typical bluntness, “I admit it’s the most unusual thing I’ve ever heard of, but I can’t imagine what Murphy could do to you if he does have an underlying motive. He’s not going to turn around and sue you or burn the house down while you’re in it! He said he made a promise that he planned to keep, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth. What do you think, Frank?”

  His brother cleared his throat for effect. “Well, it could be possible that Murphy’s in trouble with somebody he’s wronged. If we look at the worst possible scenario, what if he’s unloading the house to escape the area? If that’s what’s going on, then whoever lives here may end up becoming a target of mistaken identity, you know, like somebody setting off a bomb, thinking Murphy still lives here.”

  “Really, Frank?” Lane asked with a roll of his eyes. “You actually think he’s that diabolical?”

  “I’m just pointing out different ways of looking at this. Can’t be too careful.”

  “And I appreciate that,” said Chase, “but I honestly don’t think there’s anything more to this than an old man moving on. My thought is to simply fix it up and sell it.”

  Frank placed his hand on Chase’s shoulder. “Well if you’re really not worried, then why don’t you just move in yourself, you and your family?”

  “I can’t move back here.”

  “Why not? It’s been years, Chase. You’re not hot anymore. Nobody’s after you.”

  “I know that. I mean, I guess we could move here. I just don’t know what we’d do as far as work goes.”

  Lane leaned over. “You’re in sales, bro! You can get a job anywhere. Besides, the house is paid for. I’m not saying this is what you should do, but it’d be great having the family back together again,” he added with a wink.

  “Sure it would,” Chase agreed, smiling. “That could be a good thing, but hey, I doubt Linda could survive the winters here!”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of excuses,” Frank said. “What’s really bothering you?”

  Chase thought for a moment. “I’m not quite sure. Maybe I’m just trying to talk myself out of it since it feels so much like a dream. Or perhaps I don’t want to get too excited about the possibilities only to have Linda squelch it all. I don’t really know. Listen, I guess all I can do is speak with her and we’ll figure things out together.” Chase forced a smirk. “I just wanted the input of my two big and wise brothers.”

  “Yeah, sure!” said Lane, grinning. “Now is that it? Are we done?”

  “For now, yeah.”

  “Well good ‘cause I need some dessert! Maybe two pieces of that cake I smelled at the house!”

  Frank shook his head and turned toward Chase. “It’s unbelievable. He still has the metabolism of a teenager.”

  Lane raised his hands high in the air and loudly proclaimed, “I am a gift from heaven, my brothers! A gift from heaven!”

  **

  They buried their mother four days later. It was a Thursday afternoon and around fifty degrees, typical for that time of year. Chase had visited her every day, encouraged by her wit and wisdom but frustrated by her steady physical decline. On each occasion, they shared their similar experience of discovering a life free from personal lies. Chase cherished these rich moments, hoping his days with his mother would stretch into weeks. He wept at her bedside the morning she took her last breath.

  The cemetery rested just outside of town. The garden-like three acres of manicured lawn was adorned with an even mixture of maple, ash, and London plane trees. The clouds began to wrap around the sun, sending a slight chill over the small group huddled near the freshly dug grave. Family and several close friends sat on white plastic chairs atop a piece of green outdoor carpet.

  Chase had encouraged Linda to stay home to avoid an unnecessary expense. She said that the kids could get out of school for a few days and that her boss would completely understand, but Chase won in the end. The family, chiefly Allie, also argued with him, insisting that he view this as a chance for everyone to meet his wife and his children. He promised to bring them out over the summer, quieting his critics.

  Lane and Kathy’s two boys could not attend since both were away at school. Frank and Allie remained childless. Pregnant before Chase fled to California, Allie experienced complications and lost the baby. She never could conceive again. Aunt Betty responded to Chase’s email, lamenting that travel had become nearly impossible but saying she’d pray for them.

  The smartly robed priest stood directly in front of the coffin and pictures of their mother, which were surrounded by a colorful flower arrangement. After a solemn greeting and a short opening prayer, the priest announced that he would read from the book of Wisdom, chapter 3. Rather good-looking with dark skin, high cheek bones, and a straight nose, he spoke in a soft but commanding voice, never hesitating. His head remained focused on his notes the entire time, the only variation coming when he frequently reached up to adjust his dark-framed glasses.

  The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace. For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself.

  As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. In the time of their visitation they shall shine, and shall dart about as sparks through stubble; they shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the Lord shall be their King forever.

  Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love: Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with the elect. Wisdom 3:1-9

  The priest then gave his homily, though Chase caught very little of it after hearing the words faithful and holy ones. He thought, Was my mother a holy one? Surely a good Catholic woman, and if anyone deserves heaven, she certainly does. But what makes a person holy? I guess she lived a rather saintly life if she tolerated Dad all those years, but holy? How does this priest know? Who is he to talk about someone he met maybe half a dozen times? Chase felt strangely comforted by the words but didn’t understand any of it.

  As the priest droned on, Chase stared at the coffin. She had proved to be a good mother, he thought, particularly with the challenges she had faced. A tear formed in the corner of his eye as he reflected upon his visit to the hospital and how stunned he was to discover that she had understood the power of her own personal lies and had conquered them but had kept this to herself for no apparent reason. He loved her dearly and wished he could have had more time with her.

  After the Lord’s Prayer, then another prayer and a short blessing, Lane stood, embracing each family member. There were many tears. They flowed easily from Kathy and Allie and a few family friends, and even Frank had a couple stuck in his eyes, Chase noticed
. The priest pocketed his glasses, offered his condolences, said some nice things about their mother, and then slowly walked away. The family drove silently to Frank and Allie’s for dinner.

  The aroma from a simmering pot of stew greeted them as they hung their jackets by the door and began to set the table. “Smells fabulous, Allie!” Lane shouted, sticking his nose in the pot.

  “Well your wife helped too!” she replied.

  “Oh yeah. Good job, honey!”

  “Chase, you’ve been awfully quiet most of the day,” Allie said. “You okay?”

  He sat by himself at the kitchen table, staring straight ahead, motionless.

  “Chase?”

  “Oh, sorry, Allie. I’m fine, just thinking about Mom and everything. I guess you feel a little older around death.”

  Lane reached out to touch his shoulder. “I’m over forty, man! You’re still just a kid!”

  Allie drew closer. “Chase, I know what you mean. Death makes us all think more about our own lives, what old age will bring, how long we’re going to live, all that type of stuff. I remember when my own mother died. It was really hard, a reality check, I guess. Makes you wonder about a lot of things.”

  Still staring blankly, Chase said to no one in particular, “I think I’m going to Jersey tomorrow.”

  Frank objected. “Chase, you don’t need to do that to yourself. Why would you want to go see Dad’s grave? You don’t even know where to go! The only information we have is that he lived in Trenton.”

  Lane sided with Frank. “Listen, little bro, you can do what you think you have to do, but I can’t see that it’s going to help. Dad left us a long time ago. He didn’t want to see us when he was alive, so I’m sure it doesn’t matter now.”

  “I understand what you’re saying. Believe me I do. It’s just … just something I need to do. I haven’t told you guys what happened to me a few days before coming here, but maybe it’s time.”

  Everyone took a seat and began passing the plates of food. “Go ahead!” Allie said eagerly, reminding everyone of her gregarious personality. “We’d love to hear what’s going on, and try not to leave out any details!”