Broken Lies

by Roger Williams

  Chase told the story of the spider web and the lies but omitted Linda’s relationship and their counseling sessions. The longer he spoke, the more the events solidified in his mind. He discovered new words and new concepts, and he could describe the events more clearly than before. When he recalled the spider web and how a giant hand had freed him, he said that meant he had been rescued from himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, Chase realized their significance. He hadn’t merely been rescued from the lies but had been delivered from the one who had believed them and had lived under their spell. He been unable even to recognize his condition, let alone live free of lies.

  The lies took on new meaning as Chase perceived that he had empowered them by accepting them as true. They were no longer merely concepts, such as abandonment, fear of trust, or lack of vulnerability; they became alive as he identified himself in their midst. He was in some way personified in them, so attached to the lies that they became his identity, who he truly believed he was. But his recent journey, just a week old, left him determined to become so attached to the truth about himself that truth would dictate who he was from this time forward.

  The entire time Chase spoke, the others stared at him, spellbound. When he mentioned the doppelganger, Allie wanted to know more. “What a minute. You mean to say you saw yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like a vision or something?”

  “Well, I’ve described it as such, but I’m not sure if that’s the right word. It appeared as real as all of us sitting here when I walked up behind myself and spoke to Linda. After the new me saw the old me, I made a vow that I’d never again go back into that old body.”

  “Weird,” Lane commented.

  “Weird but real,” Chase said. “It must be part of this new journey to rediscover myself. I mean, I know there will always be areas that’ll require work and attention, areas in which I’ll need prodding and reminders because I’ve lived most of my life under the power of these lies. I have definitely experienced some immediate relief, but I’m certain that much of this will be progressive. You guys have nothing you can use to compare my habits and my lifestyle since we haven’t seen each other for so long, but Linda does. That’s why I can’t wait to get home. So much has happened in such a short time that I’ve become fairly distracted from that initial experience in the web. And I guess that’s why I feel the need to go to Dad’s gravesite. I don’t know exactly why, just a sense that it’s important.”

  “So when are you going to leave?” asked Allie.

  “Early tomorrow morning. It’s a long drive.”

  Allie’s face saddened, her lips pursed. “So this is it? I mean, it’s been great having you here, but it looks like we’ll have to say our good-byes tonight.”

  “Guess so. But listen, as I said before, I’ll make plans for the family to come out in the summer. We’ll have to do something with that house, of course, but it’ll be great to vacation out here with everyone.”

  “Have you spoken to Linda about it?” Allie anxiously asked.

  “About what?”

  “Your new house!”

  “Just briefly after convincing her to stay home during the funeral.”

  “What did she say? Tell us!”

  “Oh, she was, well, a bit taken aback by the whole story. I mean—”

  “Was she excited?” Allie interrupted.

  “I wouldn’t consider it excitement exactly,” Chase said with a grin. “More like bewilderment over what we’re going to do with it.”

  “You can move here!”

  “Yeah, I did mention that option to her,” he said, shrugging. “We’ll see.”

  They continued to talk through dessert, peppering Chase with questions about the spider, the hand, and doppelganger. Attempting to lighten the moment, the brothers took a few playful jabs at Chase. He was far too young to be found talking to himself! A man-size spider? Sounded like a scene in The Lord of the Rings! Could he be certain he’d seen himself? Maybe it was a mummy after all!

  Chase tolerated the jesting, but his mind drifted in and out of the conversation as he attempted to focus on the trip ahead of him, energized to see what tomorrow would bring and eager to get back to Linda and the children.

  When he felt comfortable enough to excuse himself without showing rudeness, he said his good-byes and then took double steps up to his room to see about changing his ticket out of Kennedy. He found a flight the next afternoon at three-fifty, arriving at LAX at seven-forty, perfect considering L.A. traffic.

  Then he searched the Internet for cemeteries in Trenton and discovered that they kept records online. After checking five or six of them for Robert Macklin with no success, he realized his best option would be to call the coroner’s office on the way down. He got the number and calculated that he needed to leave Trenton between twelve-thirty and one to be at Kennedy by two. Chase set the alarm for four in the morning in case he needed several hours to locate the gravesite.

  He didn’t sleep much, periodically turning over to check the time in case he overslept. When the alarm finally sounded, he jumped out of bed, took a quick shower, packed his bags, threw on a jacket, and headed out to his car. Still yawning, he prepared himself for the five-hour drive.

  CHAPTER 15

  About halfway to Trenton, Chase knew he needed something to keep him awake. Pulling off at an exit in Binghamton, he noticed a coffee shop with a drive-thru close to the freeway. “I’ll have a large latte. Oh, and do you have muffins?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I’ll take a blueberry one.”

  Chase paid the sleepy-eyed teenager at the window, yawned, took a few sips of java, and headed back onto the highway. In an effort to stay alert, he began to hunt for other lies he had possibly believed about himself, lies not previously exposed. He became deeply reflective.

  At age fourteen, Chase had determined that he needed to take care of himself since no one else would and that he didn’t need anyone since he could manage on his own. Both could be viewed as understandable decisions based upon his circumstances, but he suddenly found himself calling them lies. After all, he had a fairly nurturing mother and two older brothers he could have asked for help and advice but never did.

  And how could a young teenager do everything alone? And what type of attitude would such a mind-set create? He thought of the word independence, something on which Chase had always prided himself, but now he considered the probability that such an independent mentality might not be healthy. It might be productive, but in his case it was surely based upon the belief that only his dad could take care of him, and since his dad had walked out on the family, no one else could replace him.

  All of this must now mean that he needed to work at becoming more mindful of others, allowing people to assist him when necessary. But how would he begin? Would this mean behaving in ways completely foreign to him? Would he have to do the most unnatural things until they eventually became natural? He wasn’t sure.

  Chase contemplated these questions until another lie popped into his head: since he hadn’t received love from his parents, he couldn’t extend love to others. Perhaps this was why he’d had difficulty telling anyone but his children that he loved them or why he found it so hard to be affectionate with others, a handicap tied directly to the layers of lies about touch.

  His parents did not speak words of endearment or encouragement to each other and rarely to their boys, and so the verbal expression of love, and its physical expression through touch, were not modeled. The challenge for Chase was recognizing the lie hidden beneath these truths: that the love denied him was an excuse not to express love for others. How could he not have seen this before? What happened in that hideous spider web that opened his eyes to a new understanding of himself? And what was the significance of the hand that pulled him out of the web, or did it have any significance? He nibbled on his muffin.

/>   Chase continued to reflect for another hour, his mind bombarded with even more lies he had accepted about himself. He had feared that if he became too honest with people, they might use the information against him. He had been stung too many times in relationships to risk hurt or rejection again, so he had made a choice not to trust. As other lies crossed his mind, Chase realized how utterly trapped he must have been because, in believing them, the lies had indeed become him. Profound, he thought.

  He then pondered the concept of truth, typically the opposite of what he had long accepted, and what the truth would sound like if given a chance to prevail. People might or might not use information against him if he opened up, but he had to begin to be more honest and vulnerable for his own sake and for his sanity. The only way he could have healthy and vibrant relationships was to trust, to risk being hurt and rejected again.

  But what about that other guy? Chase had continually attempted to suppress his fears during this time apart from Linda. He had to be away, but what bad timing with his mother on her deathbed right after he had learned his wife was in some sort of a relationship. Sure, he and Linda called or emailed every day, not merely because Doctor Rhinegold encouraged communication but because they were connecting for the first time in months, not just intellectually through discussions of work but with a fresh emotional bond.

  However, what if she’d continued that relationship in some way? What if Linda was living a lie herself or masking her pain by reaching out elsewhere? Chase knew she loved him. She told him repeatedly that she missed him and couldn’t wait to see him and hold him and sit down to talk with him. But what if there was something else going on?

  **

  Linda was thrilled when Chase called her during his drive, informing her of his decision to fly home that afternoon and asking her to bring the kids when she picked him up at the airport.

  She had busied herself at work to help the days pass more quickly. After she had cut off any continued contact with Stan, Linda forced herself not to think about him but rather to divert all of her attention to Chase and the children. She must have written five or more emails the first few days, phoning her husband every night just to talk and to keep her mind alert and focused. Such steady contact comforted her a bit when Stan’s intrusive call came on Thursday.

  The familiar number displayed itself on her cell. Linda let the phone ring and go to voicemail. A few moments later the same number appeared again. She drew a deep breath, exhaled, and opened her phone. “Stan?”

  “Hi, Linda.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked with a calmness that belied her emotions. “I told you it’s over. I said never to call me again. Do I have to change my number to show that I don’t want to hear from you anymore?” Though she wanted to send a stern warning, she sounded as if she were making a plea.

  “Linda, listen. I’m not a mean person. You know that. I’m just missing what we both enjoyed so much and wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing great,” she said irritably. “Is that good enough for you?”

  “No, it’s not. I don’t think this is really you. You’ve never acted this way before.”

  “Stan, as I said the last time, you don’t know me, so don’t give me any more lines. Maybe you’re not mean, but you’re going to find me very unpleasant if you continue this illusion.”

  “An illusion? Come on, Linda. You’re saying that we never had anything between us?”

  “I never said that, but I definitely don’t feel anything for you now!”

  “But you know that feelings are fickle. I believe we enjoyed something far deeper than feelings.”

  “Stop the manipulation. Just leave me and my family alone.”

  “I’m not trying to manipulate anything at all. It’s just that—”

  “I’m going to say it one more time, Stan. It’s over. Whatever you think we had, go on and think it, but we’re done. Do you understand?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll let it go. I won’t call you again. But you can’t call me either. If I’m going to bury everything, you can’t dig it back up.”

  Linda sighed, sensing it was finally over between them. “Oh believe me, I won’t. I love Chase and I’m committed to him and our marriage.”

  “And what if things change?”

  “They won’t.”

  “But Linda, this is not—”

  Cold and detached, she closed her phone without responding. Stan got one thing right: she was not normally like this. But life had changed in a pleasantly surprising way, leading her to focus on the survival and the future happiness of her marriage and her family. If that required grim firmness, then so be it. And if Stan ever did call again, and it meant finally being honest with Chase, she would do that as well. Linda vowed to remain resolute in her decision.

  When Chase had called her on his way to Jersey, Linda heard in his voice an anxiousness to come home, which created her own sense of urgency to see him until he asked again, as he did nearly every day, if everything was all right. She understood the implication but feigned ignorance and assured him nothing new had occurred on the home front. Though distraught at keeping the phone call secret, she convinced herself the truth would only damage their relationship. No need to fuel his suspicions. Anyway, the relationship had ended, so why bring up issues that would simply hurt someone else? And this hadn’t been a real relationship, just something that had veered way out of control. Sure it felt pleasurable for a time, but it was nothing serious, at least from her perspective.

  **

  Chase exited the highway in Trenton, stopped at a gas station, and checked the time. A little after nine. Pulling out the number from his pocket, he called the coroner’s office. Surprisingly efficient, the person on the other end returned after a few minutes with his father’s location, Riverview Cemetery.

  The attendant at the station gave him directions, and Chase drove away with renewed focus. After weaving through morning traffic for twenty minutes, he finally pulled up to the cemetery, got out of the car, and wearily stretched.

  Nestled near the Delaware River, Riverview carried a fresh, springlike fragrance. As he walked through the trees, Chase wondered why people were born in ugly, sterile places and buried in such lovely, serene settings. A bit ironic, he thought.

  Chase was still not certain why he felt compelled to see his father’s grave, but he had been pulled toward this destination for some reason. Would he feel the need to talk to his dad as if he were alive? Would he ask him questions, knowing he couldn’t answer? Could he gain some sort of personal satisfaction or even healing for his soul simply by coming? He had no idea.

  Since it was only half past nine, Chase had plenty of time to make a random search. He read many of the century-old tombstones, some plain and simple, others ornate and almost beautiful. Chase and his friends used to play at the local cemetery near the woods, and he had always been fascinated by these places. But now how sad it was to see markers for infants and teenagers; how bizarre to notice couples buried next to each other, some having died the same year, sometimes within months. Several people had the strangest names, and he found the inscriptions for the deceased quite interesting.

  As Chase continued his search, his stomach announced its need for food. He was exhausted and thought he should have asked for help finding the gravesite. Perhaps he wouldn’t have enough time after all. Just when he had decided to turn around and look for the cemetery office, he stopped. Chase nearly walked past a nondescript marker while arguing with himself, but he caught the name Macklin out of the corner of his eye. He turned to make certain. “Robert Macklin, died April 1, 2000.” Very plain and simple.

  “So this is where everything ended, Dad,” he found himself saying, surprised that he so quickly started a one-way conversation. He stared at the modest marker and thought about the wasted life buried beneath it.

 
“Was it worth it?” he asked aloud. “Was it worth leaving your family, dying alone, no one at your side? You probably didn’t care, or maybe you did but drank away your guilt. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you. You never listened before.”

  Chase stood there for several more minutes, torn between his anger and an urge to cry. He began to understand his issue of abandonment. After his father’s sudden disappearance, Chase had for years placed the responsibility for this desertion upon himself and then turned to drugs to alleviate the guilt. But why am I guilty? he thought. I didn’t do anything that caused Dad to behave as he did.

  “That’s it!” he cried out. For some reason he had taken responsibility for his father’s actions, believing he was somehow to blame for his dad leaving the family. Doesn’t make sense, he thought, but maybe at fourteen a person doesn’t know any better. Looking at the simple headstone, Chase loudly addressed his dad again. “It was you! You, not me! I’m not going to believe any longer that I had anything at all to do with you abandoning me.”

  The word abandonment continued to reverberate in his mind. He wondered if his way of relating to others was directly connected to this experience, if somehow he had emotionally abandoned loved ones and friends out of fear that they would abandon him, a type of self-protection. He had never considered this possibility before; it seemed strange that a person would abandon someone else and would in return receive the very treatment he feared. He would have to ask Doctor Rhinegold about this.

  Then Chase suddenly recalled that this was one of the lies coming out of the web, the one he hadn’t given much attention. So maybe that was why he had felt driven to come here, to discover the source of this issue.

  He deliberated for a moment upon the other words that had rushed at him in his vision, words still etched in his memory: vulnerability, touch, pride, and anger. Probably anger at his dad and at himself, he concluded. But what was the deal about pride? Where did that come into play?