“I didn’t give to her out of pity. I gave her some money so that she would leave me alone; I gave for my own convenience, not out of pity. I admit some hypocrisy, but only because I felt that being disturbed was worse than walking to the car in peace. I did not give out of pity.” Thomas put special emphasis on this last sentence.
“Now you’re lying to yourself—it’s good that you don’t believe lying is bad,” the stranger said and waited for a reply before continuing. “At least admit that you’re lying to yourself. Maybe you can convince yourself that you’re not lying but I have a lot of experience with lies of every kind, and I can recognize one when I hear it.”
Thomas stood up, truly offended and raised his voice. “What do you care if I live it out! Why does it matter to you? You sit down at my table, and I try to have a civilized conversation about the idea of there being no absolutes, and you keep badgering me about hypocrisy and reminding me that I should kill myself, as if I hadn’t already considered it.”
“You’re not leaving are you? Sit down like a civilized man if you want to have a civilized conversation.” The stranger effaced a soothing voice, apparently unfazed by Thomas’s outburst.
“No, I’ve had enough coffee and enough small talk for tonight. I’m going home to work on my paper.” In his passion Thomas struggled to put his overcoat on and in the process knocked over the wooden chair he had been sitting in. He noticed that some of the other patrons had turned to see what the commotion was about. They were almost concealing their amusement, but Thomas could tell that inside they were all laughing at him, laughing at how ridiculous his idea was, how ridiculous he was. Finally he managed to button up his coat and started toward the street, trying to salvage what was left of his pride.
“If you had faith in your idea you’d kill yourself,” the stranger said as Thomas walked away.
* * *
Hannah had stayed up late poring over documents until her eyes were so dry that they couldn’t focus. But when she finally crawled under the covers she still couldn’t make herself go to sleep. She stayed awake in the state that she had been trying to avoid all day long: loneliness. She managed to hold all the memories at bay as she lay on her back looking up at the ceiling, but the nothingness couldn’t be helped, and it seeped into her the way water seeps into dry ground: taking in a few drops at first and slowly penetrating deeper, saturating the earth until all that remains is a pool of mud. She woke up before the alarm, but she still felt exhausted. She threw a bagel in the toaster and heated water for tea in the microwave. She consumed the meager breakfast and took a long shower to fill up the time. Hannah stood under the water and lifted her face so that it was directly beneath the flow. She focused all of her attention on the warm water falling from the showerhead, beating down on her eyes and mouth and nose.
When she got out she took her time getting dressed and somehow managed to lose track of time, something she’d been trying in vain to do almost every moment of every day. When she realized that she should have left for work four minutes ago she grabbed her briefcase and started toward the door. As her hand reached for the doorknob, she froze. She remembered something that she’d thought about doing for a while. She made herself turn the knob and she pulled the door open, but she couldn’t make herself go outside. She decided to go through with it.
Hurrying back to the bedroom she dug through an unpacked box until she found what she despised herself for looking for. She held up the two inch by three and a half inch piece of glossy cardstock and looked at the name, Joseph Henderson, that had been printed in bold letters across the top, with his occupation and contact information printed just below it. It wasn’t a card she was proud of playing, but it was better than the alternative, an alternative that had haunted her all night. She put the business card in her inside pocket and hurried out the door.
* * *
When Thomas woke up Peter wasn’t home. He knew that his father had come back at some time during the night because there was a bowl of milk with a spoon on the little table positioned between the living room and kitchen. Thomas fumbled past the table to the sink. He washed a bowl and dried it off before filling it with bran flakes, the only box of cereal in the apartment. It was 8:30 on a Saturday morning, and Thomas would have been sleeping soundly if the phone hadn’t woken him up.
“I don’t know why she wants me to go with her, or what could be so important that it couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour,” he thought, as he slowly crunched down on the flakes of cereal that were already getting soggy. He didn’t want to admit that he was flattered that Julia had called, wanting him to be with her when she went back to the old folks’ home. But habit forced him to put on the early morning act to which he’d grown accustomed. The slovenly plodding motions had begun as a forced act that he’d used so that his roommate would leave him alone in the mornings. But now the act came naturally, and Thomas didn’t know if he was pretending or if he’d really grown into the persona.
He finally managed to snap out of his abysmal mood when Julia knocked on the door. She poked her head in timidly and looked around before asking whether their father had come back. Thomas told her that he was alone and invited her to come in.
“No thanks,” Julia said looking over her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?”
“Let me get my jacket,” Thomas said and disappeared down the hallway. When he reemerged Julia told him that she’d changed her mind about coming in, and that she needed to use the bathroom.
“Of course,” Thomas said and opened the door so she could enter the apartment. She stood in the entryway with her eyes wide, as if she were trying to take in the scene but couldn’t quite comprehend her surroundings. Finally she asked, “Which way is the bathroom?”
Thomas’s eyes seemed to be saying, “You mean you’ve never been in here?” as he pointed down the hallway and said, “First door on your right.”
Thomas waited on the couch, forgetting how difficult getting up from those cushions could be. When Julia came out of the bathroom he struggled to his feet and walked out with her. “So why are we going back?” Thomas asked when he got into Julia’s car.
“I have to tell him that I don’t want it,” Julia replied.
“It?”
“The money.”
“Why not? If he wants to give it to you then that’s his business,” Thomas said.
“I haven’t exactly been daddy’s little girl lately, not since Thanksgiving, really even before that. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he acted yesterday, and I know that if I take the money then we’ll never be able to go back to the way things used to be.”
“Even if you don’t take the money it doesn’t mean that he’s going to get any of it,” Thomas pointed out.
“Don’t you understand? I don’t care about who gets the money, but if I get it then he’s going to despise me forever.”
“But even if you don’t take the money it doesn’t mean that things will ever go back to the way they were. He’s changed. People do that and I don’t think he’s ever going to be the way he was. It’s something we’ve got to accept so we can move on with life.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Julia admitted. “But I still can’t take the money.”
When they arrived at the nursing home Julia marched directly to Abraham’s room. Thomas couldn’t help but admire the determination on her face as she strode down the hallway and burst through the door. Abraham turned to see who had come in, and she hesitated for a moment, losing a little momentum, but the words were already on her tongue and came out of their own accord.
“Why are you doing this?” Julia didn’t try to hide her exasperation. “I don’t want your money.”
“Why do people do any a’ the things we do?” Abraham asked. “Well?” Abraham prodded, when neither Julia nor Thomas responded.
“Survival? Instinct?” Julia offered. She felt as unsure of her answer as she did about her grandfather’s question.
“That can’t be it,”
Abraham objected. “We want ta believe there’s logic, but when you really think ‘bout everything you do in a day you have ta admit that reasonin’, survival, instinct, all a’ that stuff doesn’t come close ta explainin’ it.”
Thomas interjected, “You’re right Grandpa. Nietzsche says that it’s because we have a will to power. We do everything to increase our power.”
Julia looked up at him and crinkled her forehead as if in deep thought. “I don’t think that’s it,” she objected. “A man might want power, but it’s only so he can survive.”
Thomas’s face shot back at her; his eyes saying, “Who are you to disagree with one of the greatest philosophers of all time.”
“No,” Julia said softly, “That doesn’t explain why I’m getting everything.”
“Of course it does,” Thomas said quickly. “He’s giving you his money to exert his power over Dad. It’s a form of revenge. Nietzsche says that this will to exert power is our primary drive.”
Horror spread across Julia’s face and she turned back to the bed. “Is that it? Is that why you’re doing this? I don’t want your money, and I won’t take it. I can’t believe that you could even consider something like that.”
“That’s not it.” Abraham said calmly. “I can’t lie an’ say that I didn’t want ta get my revenge on him fer puttin’ me in this place. But if that was it I wouldn’t a’ waited ‘till now.”
“Then why? Why are you doing this?” Julia asked.
“’Cause I believe in you. An’ ‘cause I want my life’s work ta go ta do somethin’ good in the end. Lots a’ times we don’t know why we do the things we do ‘cause a lot a’ the time there ain’t no reasonin’ at all. But sometimes we do things ‘cause we want ta do somethin’ good. It ain’t ‘bout seeking pleasure an’ avoidin’ pain. There ain’t any logic or survival or power involved.” He looked at Thomas as he enunciated the word power. “In fact,” he said turning back to Julia, “I don’t’ want you ta wait ‘till I’m dead. I was thinkin’ after you left yesterday that I wanted ta give half a’ it ta you now, ‘fore I die.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Julia stammered.
“You don’t have ta say nothin’. I saved all this up fer nothin’ hardly spendin’ a penny and now I want fer one a’ us to use it ta live life.”
Julia acquiesced, and let Thomas walk her out of the room. When they were in the hallway, Thomas turned to Julia as if he’d finally found the words he’d been looking for. “It’s obvious you know. He’s giving you the money because he wants to feel good about himself. Deep down it’s that he’s trying to avoid the pain of a guilty conscious. The meds keep him from feeling any other type of pain, and he’s trying to get rid of the only one that’s left. That’s all morality amounts to.”
“Can you really believe that?” Julia asked. “Can you really think that life, that charity, boils down to something so base? Don’t answer that. Let’s not argue.”
* * *
Hannah was halfway to the office before she realized that the traffic was abnormally light, and then it hit her. She was driving to work on a Saturday. As she pulled off the interstate onto an exit ramp, she remembered that she had promised to take Lewis to the mall so she could buy him some new cloths and the video game he’d been wanting. When she arrived at Luke and Debra’s house, he was more than ready. He ran out the door to meet her before she’d even gotten out of the car. He yelled out goodbye to his Uncle Luke who had barely managed to make it to the front door, and climbed into the passenger seat of his mother’s car.
The simple words “Goodbye Uncle Luke,” stung Hannah like a pinprick. They brought back to her memory everything that she’d been trying to force back into the deep recesses of her mind, and she regretted dragging that truth to the surface where she couldn’t avoid or deny it. As she spent the morning with Lewis, letting him drag her from one store to another in what she knew was a vain attempt to find one that had his game in stock, she fidgeted with her cell phone. Then her fingers found the business card that she’d grabbed before leaving for what she’d hoped would be a full and hectic day at the office.
When they’d finished in the mall, they walked out with two bags full of new clothes—Debra had been telling her for some time now that Lewis needed to finish replacing what had been destroyed in the fire. Lewis drug his feet as they made their way to the car, visibly disappointed at not having been able to find his game, and Hannah’s insistent promise to come back next weekend had done little to improve his spirits.
“He used to be such a happy boy,” Hannah thought as she loaded the bags into the backseat of the car. She tried to tell herself that his melancholy might be the result of making him stay with Luke, but despite her prejudice she couldn’t convince herself of such an obvious lie. She hated herself, the selfish way she’d gone about splitting up with him. Lewis was only a child, and she knew what kind of lasting effect traumatic events could have on children. She’d known it, but she’d wanted to get away from her own situation so badly.
She knew that if she’d been thinking only about Lewis then she’d never have been able to go through with it. She’d never have been able to take even the first steps. Maybe if she’d held on a little longer for Lewis’s sake they’d have been able to work everything out and get to the life she’d been dreaming of. As she drove down the interstate, to take her son back to stay with two people who she couldn’t even think of as his relatives, that wonderful fantasy life seemed more impossible to her than it had when she’d lain awake in his bed feeling like she was drowning in that dead end relationship.
As her car sped over the interstate, Abigail’s advice about seeing other people seemed more foreign to her than living in an apartment she would never consider her own, or sleeping in a queen sized bed all by herself. She couldn’t refute her friend’s logic; so many people in her situation were out there doing just that: dating, moving on with their life, looking for the happiness that had eluded them on their first attempt. But Hannah couldn’t help remembering how magical being with Peter had seemed in the beginning. She couldn’t hope to have a beginning like that again, and if even a relationship with the most magical beginning could turn out so dead and distant as theirs had, what hope or assurance could she have of a new relationship turning out differently.
She knew that she could meet a charming person who would sweep her off her feet and be perfect for her, but she couldn’t believe that it would last. Somewhere in the dissolution, love had been reduced to a biological event. She’d lost faith in forever, and she knew that the only thing that could ever restore it would be reconciling with him, which could never be, or a new marriage that lasted forever, which was impossible without the faith she needed to even consider starting down that path again. She was completely trapped, but the wheels of the car continued to speed down the interstate, and Lewis sat next to her with his head bowed so that she couldn’t see the dejected look that she knew he wore.
* * *
When Julia and Thomas got back to their father’s apartment Julia said goodbye and thanked her brother for going with her.
“I know you could have thought up something better to do,” she said as he got out of her car.
“Actually I was afraid I’d end up sitting around bored all day,” Thomas admitted. He closed the door and turned to walk away. Julia put the car in reverse and backed up. She jumped when she saw Thomas standing beside her window. He motioned for her to roll it down, and as she did he leaned over and said, “Why don’t you come up?”
“I don’t think he wants to see me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I’m the reason he’s not getting his inheritance. I’m probably the reason why he’s staying out late and nowhere to be found in the mornings.
“Don’t believe that you’re the cause of it. That’s so self-centered.”
“What do you mean?” Julia asked.
“You’re not thinking about him. You’re only seeing yourself, so you think i
t’s your fault, but it isn’t. That’s why people get upset with each other over nothing. They expect to walk in the door and begin with a clean slate. They never see what’s going on inside of the other person. They think the only reason for someone to get upset is if they’ve done something wrong. Then when the other person gets upset because of something entirely unrelated, they always get upset too, because they know that they didn’t do anything wrong. If people weren’t so self-centered they’d see the struggles going on inside of everyone around them, and then they’d be more understanding.”
Julia looked at her older brother with a sense of surprise and admiration that she’d never felt for him before.
“What?” Thomas said when he saw her expression. “I know it wasn’t articulate, but some of what I’ve learned is applicable to real life.”
Julia didn’t know how to respond.
“So are you going to come up?” Thomas asked again.
“Sure.”
She opened the door and accepted Thomas’s hand as she stood up out of the car.
* * *
Even though his mother had assured him that they would find his game in stock next week, Lewis didn’t believe it. Not because he didn’t believe that his mother would make every effort, he had faith in her, but because he couldn’t believe that he would ever merit receiving anything he wanted. A feeling of worthlessness filled his young soul. He didn’t understand where this feeling came from, and he didn’t think of it in terms of divine punishment for what he’d done. Concepts like God, fate, and karma eluded him, but the feeling persisted. It was why Summer would never like him, and why he had to live with his uncle and aunt instead of his mom and dad, and why boys like James Guthrie would flick matches at him. He was completely alone in the universe, even while his mother sat in the car seat just a few feet away. What was even worse was knowing that everything was his fault and that he had brought it all on himself.