The Lost Truth (13 page)

Dropping to my knees, I scooped my fallen friend into my calloused hands. His blood smeared against his innocent blue feathers and I cried out. “Why?” My heart ached, but tears refused to fall. Seeing the calico cat across the field near Mr. Kilgore’s barn filled me with anger so deep that it was like a well-spring of hate had just opened. I stood up, with Kip still in my hands, and hurried back over to the porch.

“I’m so sorry,” Katie said as she followed me into the house. I went down the hallway and to the spare room. Gently setting him on a pillow, I went over to the closet and pulled down the gun case that belonged to my father.

“Um . . . Clay? What are you doing?” she asked from the doorway.

After entering the combination to the lock, I looked back at her. “Making this right. I’m not going to wait on justice.” Directing my attention back to the case, I popped it open and grabbed the twenty-two and headed back outside.

Katie followed after me through the screen door, trying to stop me. “Clay! You’d better not kill that cat!” She shouted as I made my way back toward the field.

Ignoring her pleas, I continued into the tall grass of the field as I loaded the gun with shells. I could hear her footsteps behind me as she followed. Arriving to the edge of the field by the barn, I saw the cat sitting smug-like as it napped in the shade of a willow tree.
Get your fill of Kip? I’ll fill ya up now!
Raising the gun to aim, I narrowed my sight on the cat.

“Clay . . .” Katie said in a soft tone as she slowed her steps on her approach behind me.

“What?” I shouted without turning to look at her. My finger was on the trigger now.

“Why are you doing this?”

Her question echoed through my skull and caused me to take my finger off the trigger. Dropping the gun to my side, I turned around to her. “To make it even!” Speaking through my teeth, I said, “It’s not right what he did to Kip!”

“But why?”

Shaking my head with a few quick movements, I said, “It was wrong what that cat did. He deserves to die.”

“Maybe so . . .” Katie replied gently as she stepped closer.

Looking over my shoulder toward the murderer as it slumbered, I said, “You can’t let bad behavior go unpunished.”

I turned back to Katie, and she was right in front of me now. She reached up, and her hands cupped my cheeks. Her touch was soothing as her hands touched my face. She looked me in the eyes. “You have a beautiful soul, Clay. Don’t let your anger and hurt over what has happened ruin who you are. You don’t want to kill the cat . . . I saw the newspaper about Lance.”

A feeling of exposure washed over me. It felt like she knew everything, knew my secrets and understood the storm that raged. Dropping the gun, I fell to my knees and my walls came crashing down around me. Sobbing, I hid my face in my palms. “I didn’t mean to kill Peter. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I just needed him to understand he should never touch a child.” I cried harder than I ever did in that moment, and Katie placed a hand on my back as I wept.

“God forgives you, Clay. You know that.” Tears fell down her cheeks, as if she understood my grief.

I shook my head. “I know that, but I can’t
feel
it. It’s as if His grace wasn’t enough.” Lifting my hands up from the ground, I looked at my palms. “These hands . . . they took a life, Katie.” Shaking my head again, I continued. “They played the role of God and decided the fate of a man. He was a son. A father. A human life.”

She shook her head. “A sick and twisted man, Clay.” She dipped her head down to grab my eyes with hers.

Lifting my chin, I looked at her.

“Jesus got up on that cross and died for you, knowing that you would do everything that you’ve done, Clay. Yeah. Lots of what you’ve done isn’t exactly good. I can promise you I’m no saint either.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean our sins are too big for God.”

Sniffing, I looked across the field and back toward Janice’s house behind Katie. Thinking about Janice, Gail and Cindy, I shook my head as sadness over all the damage I had caused sent me sinking into a state of depression. “I think you should go.”

Rising to her feet, she left without another word. As she cut through the field, I turned back to Mr. Kilgore’s yard and saw that the calico was gone from underneath the shaded tree. I scanned the property the best I could, but I couldn’t see the cat anywhere.
Probably went to find another innocent victim to kill.

Picking up my gun, I stood up and headed back to Janice’s house. On the porch, I picked up Kip’s cage and took it over to the patio’s shed. As I opened the door, I saw my fishing pole and thought about tomorrow’s trip with Paul. Going fishing with the sun beating down on my sunburned body didn’t sound like a good time. But I felt the desire to know what happened to the Paul who loved my sister and had been planning to marry her.

Cold water splashed across my face the next morning, causing my heart to skip a beat as I launched up from the couch. Wiping the water from my face, I saw Janice standing in front of me with furrowed eyebrows and a look like she wanted to stab me.

“What’s your problem?” I snapped at her.

Her eyes shifted behind me. Turning, I saw Paul. “Oh,” I replied, rubbing my neck. “I overslept?”

Paul nodded. “You don’t do mornings well, do you?”

Thinking about the day I had yesterday, I shook my head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Where’s Kip’s cage?” Janice asked. “I went out back to put the sprinkler out last night and saw it was gone.”

“Kip’s dead,” I replied dryly.

Paul interjected. “I’ll be out in the truck.”

“Okay. Give me five.”

He nodded and headed out the door. As it clicked shut, Janice said, “So now you’re hanging out with my ex-boyfriend?” She sighed heavily. “You’re so annoying! Ugh!”

“I thought he was your ex-fiancé.” Shaking my head, I repeated my earlier statement. “Kip’s dead, Janice.”

She laughed and shook her head. “It was a bird! I don’t care!”

Uncontrollable tears welled in my eyes.

“Seriously?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’re upset about a bird?”

I got up, ignoring her, and went and found my sandals.

She followed after me. “You are. You’re devastated about the stupid bird.” She glanced toward the hallway. “You didn’t mention anything about the fact that Cindy’s gone. Let me guess, that’s not a big deal, because your bird is dead?”

As I finished putting my sandals on, I stood up and looked at her. “You asked about Kip. That’s why I didn’t mention Cindy.”

“Well. Okay. What happened? Why is Cindy gone?”

Heading to the back porch to grab my pole, I didn’t reply. That didn’t stop Janice. She followed me and kept asking.

Stopping at the shed door on the porch, I looked back at her. “She wanted to go home. Gail showed up while we were down at the water.”

“Down at the water?” Janice asked. “She was sick yesterday.” She pressed her hand against her forehead. “Why would you take your sick daughter swimming?”

Shrugging, I grabbed my pole and shut the door. “She wanted to. Guess I’m a bad parent.” Walking past her, I headed back through the house. Again, she followed me.

“Stop throwing a pity party, Clay. You screwed up. Why’d Gail come though? Did you know she was?”

I shook my head. “No. I guess Cindy called her at some point yesterday.” Opening the front door, I left.

Coming out to the truck, I noticed the boat that Paul had in tow. It was a dark gray paddle boat, but it was in superb condition. “We’re boating today, eh?” I said as I set my pole inside the boat and came around the truck.

Climbing into the truck, I saw him nodding as he looked over at me. “We are. Remember? I told you that last week.” He seemed to have something weighing on his mind. There was just a look like his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right. Well, I like it,” I replied, looking through the window to the boat. “Seems cozy.”

He nodded again, but said nothing. Putting the truck into drive, we were off to Bear Lake.

Out on the lake, Paul and I shared silence between us as we rigged our lures and cast out our lines. A relatively calm morning, the water was still as we both waited for bites on our hooks.

Then Paul broke the silence.

“I found out I have a son.”

My eyebrows shot up, and I jerked my head in his direction. His eyes were fixed on the water. “Wow.”

“Yeah . . .”

“With the woman you were at the pool—”

He shook his head and dipped his chin. In a quiet and shamed tone, he said, “No.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. There were a million questions running through my mind.

“I guess she never told me because she didn’t think I’d be a good father to him.” His voice was deep and echoed hurt.

“That’s jacked.” Keeping my eyes on him, I asked, “How old is the kid?”

“Ten. Guess he plays two hand touch at the YMCA and has friends and . . .” Paul let out a sigh. “A life. I don’t know how to process it all, man. And when I found out, that’s when I screwed everything up with Janice.”

“Why’d you do it?”

He shrugged and looked over at me. “I didn’t know how to tell her that I had a son. You know? We had plans to have kids and have this life and family and . . . having a kid out there just kind of threw a wrench in the whole plan.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Man. I’m sorry. That’d be so hard.”

He nodded and set his pole down so it was leaning against the edge of the boat. He turned around on his seat and looked at me. “You don’t even know. I went by his practice the other day and saw him out there on the football field. Number twelve. He was running, catching balls and throwing ‘em around to other kids.” He shook his head and looked down at the floor of the boat. “I missed so much of his life while some guy that wasn’t his dad had been raising him.”

“Does he know?” I asked. “That you’re his father?”

He shook his head. “No. He thinks this other guy is his dad.”

“Is the mom going to tell him the truth?” I asked.

“She wants to, but she also has to tell her husband that he’s not his son.” Turning back around to his pole, he looked back at the water. “I’m mad at her, don’t get me wrong. But that’s got to be hard.”

“That’s rough. Why’d she tell you now?”

“Guilt.”

Nodding, I turned my head back to the water. I thought about my bird dying and shook my head. I was distraught over a bird.
Janice was right.
And I had ruined my life by my own poor choices over an incident in a trailer park that happened years ago. Yet I sit beside a man who just found out he’s had a son for a decade without knowing. I could feel my problems begin to shrink and become insignificant next to his. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

He let out a long, drawn out breath. “Pray. The whole thing has been good for me in one aspect—my relationship with the Lord.”

“Before or after you stuck your tongue down that chick’s throat?”

He shook his head in disgrace. “After. I don’t go to the bar anymore. Pretty much work at the car lot and study the Bible now. Just got to trust God to work it out.”

“What about your
sign
in the grocery store? To marry my sister, man?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what that was . . . I think I made it a bigger deal than it really was. It did open my eyes to the fragility of life, though. I’ll give it that much credit. But since I found out about this kid . . . I’ve been relying on God to get me through this storm. It’s my main focus right now. Focusing on God is something I’ve never done before. It’s becoming a big part of who I am.”

I had been to more church services than I could count and more Bible studies than I could name, but never did I feel as much conviction as I did in that moment on the boat with Paul in the middle of Bear Lake.
Relying on God to get him through this storm.
It was as if God Himself orchestrated this moment. Like a prick of a needle, my soul stirred within me. This man, who had every reason to blame God for his misfortune, wasn’t mad at Him. He was instead drawing closer.

He turned his head and looked at me again. “Oh, hey. Sorry about your bird, by the way.”

I shook my head with a little bit of a laugh in my tone. “No. Don’t worry about it, dude. It’s a bird.”

He nodded for a moment. “Yeah, but I’m sure Cindy was devastated by it. By the way, where is she?”

Pain swirled within me, compounding my conviction into a deeper sense. “She left back to Ocean Shores with her mother.”

“What?” Startled by the statement, he jerked his body toward me. “Why?”

Paul was open about his struggle, so I felt inclined to share. “She caught me downing whiskey in my truck and . . . let’s just say it probably didn’t stir up some great memories for her.”

He shook his head. “Dude. My father died a drunk. You know how they found him?”

I raised my eyebrows, intrigued for him to continue.

“Face-down in a ditch with his britches around his ankles. Nobody knows why he was there or why his pants were down, but it’s a sad way to go regardless. Don’t let the drink rule you. I’m not trying to tell you how to do life, but I know from seeing my own father’s mistakes that it’s not a good way.”

“I know.” Sorrow swept me in the moment. It felt like God brought me out on this lake and in this boat for a purpose.
Thank you.
My prayer echoed through my mind and up toward heaven as conviction brought perspective.