The True Father (2 page)

   “I received some unexpected news today,” I said.

   “What news?”

   “My father passed away.”

   One of her hands moved to my shoulder. “Trevor, I'm so sorry.”

   “It's okay, I never knew him.”

   “How did you find out?”

   “My uncle—his brother—came to the graduation today.”

   “Was that the guy in the cowboy hat?”

   “Yeah.”

   “So how are you feeling?”

   “Weird as hell.”

   “What can I do?”

   “I don't know. Just hang with me, I guess. I might need you later.”

   She smiled tenderly again. “I can do that.”

   Just as I was about to give her a hug Walter walked up and, with his fist, delivered a light punch to my arm. 

   “Congratulations, Champ.”

   He reeked of Tommy Hilfiger cologne and, dressed in an olive suit and a black knit shirt, looked more like a playboy than a businessman. Unlike the other guests, he carried a wine glass half full of champagne.

   “So when do you start the new job?” he asked.

   “Monday.”

   “You know, I belong to the same racquetball club as one of those VP's at that firm. What's it called again?”

   “Bennett and Dobbs.”

   “That's right. I hear they have a great reputation.”

   “I hope so.”

   He returned a plastic smile, one that I was sure he borrowed from the Dean of business. “You know, if you strike out down there, you're always welcome to come and work for me.”

   I tried to act excited. “Oh, that would be cool.”

   “But that's just if you get into a pinch.”

   “Thanks, Walter.”

   He punched me on the arm again. “Don't mention it, Champ.”

   As he walked away I rolled my eyes at Amber. “Will you kill him for me?”

   She laughed then stood. “I'm going to get some more punch, would you like anything?”

   I handed her my glass. “I could use another beer.”

   “Sure—but don't get used to it.”

   “No way.”

   As she walked away I glanced around the patio. I noticed my grandfather visiting with my uncle, Todd. My uncle, I thought. Not by blood, but by marriage. This made me think again of Jeremiah. How interesting it was to see him. To have such a small taste of a life I never knew.

   I watched my grandfather talk and express with his hands; a short portly man with a bald head and only a little white hair above each ear. I laughed at his attire. He couldn't wait to get home and get out of his suit and tie and into his one-piece jumpsuit—a godforsaken piece of light blue polyester with an elastic waistline and silver buckle, one that Grandpa always praised as being the most comfortable damned garment he ever wore. And he also bragged about his home, the one parked beside our house, a thirty-six foot Winnebago Chieftain that he and Grandma drove all over the country, especially during snowbird season.

   I didn't have to watch him long before he noticed me, put my uncle on hold and came to me. He patted me on the shoulder and sat down in Amber's chair. 

   “How you doing, Trev?”

   “Pretty good, Grandpa.”

   “You know I seen you talking to Jeremiah today.”

   “Hard not to notice him, huh?”

   “Yeah, here in the big city old Jeremiah stands out like a pink bow on a pig. I wanted to say hello, but he got away before I had the chance.”

   “Did you know him?”

   “Know him? His pa and I were best friends growing up. Yes, old Basil Hodge was quite the cowman.”

   “Cowman?”

   “Sure, you remember that I used to be in the cattle business?”

   “Well, I knew you had a farm down near Joplin.”

   “Farm? Hell boy that was a ranch! Fifteen hundred acres of the best damn ranchland in the country! Hell, when you was a youngun' you'd come down and ride horses every summer.”

   “Yeah, I remember that.”

   “You looked a lot like your pa when he was young.”

   “So I guess you knew him, too?”

   He put his hand on my knee. “Yes, Trev, I knew you're pa real well. In fact, I loved him and Jeremiah as my own. Basil died and both them boys ran off and traveled the rodeo circuit. I wanted Jettie to inherit the ranch, and he would've if your mom and him would have stayed married.”

   “What happened to them?”

   “Don't rightly know. And even if I did I don't think I'd be the one to tell you. But I do know one thing; your pa loved you. And I hated to see you all separate.”

   Like Jeremiah's visit, Grandpa's bit of history added fuel to these unexpected feelings. Jettie Hodge, a man my grandpa loved. A rodeo man. A man I never knew. A man who loved me.

   “Grandpa, I've been thinking about the funeral. I'd like to go, but I start my new job Monday.”

   “Well, Trev, I ain't going to tell you what to do. But it's unfortunate that you never got to know your pa, and I think it would be good for you to go down there and see what he was all about. Go down before they give all his belongings to Good Will, and what's left gets blown away in one of them Oklahoma twisters.”

   “But what about my job?”

   “The death of your pa isn't a good enough excuse to get some time off?”

   “I guess it is. But I never knew him as my dad.”

   “Good God, kid, they don't have to know that.”

   “I guess they don't.”

   This time he slapped me on the knee. “Sure they don't. In fact, if I can talk your grandma into it, we can fire up the Winnebago and go down tomorrow, and you can ride with us.”

   “You don't have to go to no trouble, Grandpa.”

   “No trouble, Trev. In fact, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing some old country and old kin.”

   Amber returned with our drinks and Grandpa stood to give her back her chair. He teased and flirted with her like he did all the young women, then went back to his conversation with Uncle Todd.

   “You doing okay?” Amber asked as she sat back down.

   “Yeah. Had a nice talk with Grandpa.”

   “He's a neat old guy. I especially like his taste in clothing.”

   I laughed at her joke then looked at the patio floor. I kept thinking about Jeremiah, the funeral, and now Grandpa's offer. What would my new boss think if I didn't show up the first day? Was it worth the risk if he didn't approve? All I knew is that I couldn't stop thinking about Spiro, Oklahoma, a place that in just a few hours had more magnetism than a job I had worked four years to get.

  
   I was anxious to get away from the party crowd so I talked Amber into a Saturday night movie, then a couple beers at a bar and grill, and later to her apartment where I spent the night. For Amber and I, nights like these didn't come very often. It took a special mood, our minds had to be far away from school or anything related to our career goals. This night happened to be one of those nights, when all I could think about was an upcoming funeral and the decision I needed to make by morning. Luckily Amber was there for me.

   I sat up in the bed, my back against the headboard and sheet up to my waist. Conditioned air blew from a vent above the bed and felt good on my bare chest. I looked down at her as she slept on her side, her hands cradled over her breasts as she took in the breaths of sleep. I envied her ability to rest so peacefully.

   I looked out the window and into the parking lot where the moonlight reflected off the windshields of cars. Though I couldn't see the moon, I could visualize it in my mind—an object so distant but powerful, with the ability to reflect the sun's light to the earth. It made me think of my father, and a family I never knew, and like the moon their images hovered in a distant space and drew me with an intoxicating force.

   Amber and I had talked a lot about my decision, my sudden feelings, and the guilt I felt for not having these feelings before now. If not for her, I may have wallowed in self-pity the entire night, but she was just the pragmatic type not to allow that to happen. Now more than ever, I was grateful for her friendship, knowing that I could never have confided in Ernie with such a dilemma. He and I were best friends, but our common bond was more college buddy and a line seemed to be drawn there and never crossed. Another sign that the party days were over and the real life had begun.

   I rose from the bed, put my clothes on and leaned over and kissed Amber on the forehead. I didn't want to wake her, but I couldn't possibly leave without leaving a little gracious affection. She squirmed a bit, but continued on in her quiet slumber.

   I drove my car to the Plaza, parked and walked to where large fountains spewed under blurring streetlights. The night faded as a hint of coral light teased the eastern sky. I stood by the statue of Seville lights, where water poured from the mouths of theatrical faces, then to the fountain of the Greek god, Bacchus, and then my favorite, the three Heroic Horsemen. Though the horses reared and the horsemen raised their arms in battle, there was something serene about their presence—a freeze-framed image of a great defense, along with water that flowed around the horse's feet, sprayed into the air, and created a cool mist that went aloft and trickled on my face. I grabbed some loose change out of my jeans pocket, found a quarter and threw it in the fountain pool, joining it with the many other coins that rested in the basin. I didn't know what to wish for, but in a way I knew I needed strength to carry on my decision.

 

*     *     *

 

   I wasn't sure how Kyle Bennett would respond to me calling him at his home early on a Sunday morning, but he was very sympathetic and told me to take all the time I needed, that the job would be there when I returned. He did, however, ask for a letter of verification from the funeral director. He said he'd need it for my personnel file. A bit odd, I thought, but like my grandpa often said, these days a man's word is virtually worthless.

   I opened my closet door and looked at the half-dozen new suits that Mom bought for me at Saks Fifth Avenue. They were a graduation gift that she put on her Saks credit card. She wanted to be certain that her son looked his best, and no matter the cost, fit in with the downtown crowd. After I had tried on at least twenty suits, we settled on six conservative, perfect for accountant ensembles. There were two grays, one a solid charcoal and another a lighter shade with a faint pin stripe, a navy blue windowpane plaid, a khaki tan, and a dark three-button olive. Then there was my favorite, a black on gray glen plaid, the “banker's suit”, I called it, which I'd planned to wear on the first day of the new job. But for the time being, I only needed one appropriate for a funeral. I knew it had to be between the charcoal and the navy, and finally selected the charcoal. It was dark and simple. 

   I lay it on the bed, and also from the closet grabbed a white pinpoint oxford dress shirt still in plastic from the one-hour laundry. Now came the tough part. Selecting the tie. The task at Saks never ended at just selecting the suits. The shirt selecting was easy—all white, but I was definitely a novice at matching ties. The salesperson was a pro at it, and he had given good advice. But I had nearly panicked.

   “How am I suppose to be able to do this matching in the morning before work,” I had said.

   “Simple,” he had said. “Burgundies and reds are a great contrast with any navy, gray, or olive suit.”

   So with his crash lesson in mind, I found a tie with a dark burgundy background and small black and white diamonds throughout. I lay it on the charcoal suit and became instantly impressed with my selection.

   I wrapped the tie around the suit hanger and along with the shirt placed them inside a zipper garment bag. And inside a black duffel bag, I stuffed a pair of black dress shoes, black socks, and two days worth of casual attire for the evening after the funeral and the drive back to Kansas City the next day.

   As I zipped the duffel bag I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I looked up to find Mom standing in the doorway watching me.

   “Hi,” I said.

   “So you're really going to do this?”

   “Yes, I am.”

   “Why?”

   “Why not?”

   “Trevor, you are risking your new job and all you've worked for, for something you know nothing about.”

   “Yes, and I've been wondering about that.”

   “About what?”

   “Why I know so little about my father.”

   “There's not much worth knowing.”

   “You say that, and all through my life I've believed that. In fact, I was raised not knowing the difference between having a father and not having one.”

   “Then what good will it do to go down there now? He's dead, Trevor.”

   “And what a tragedy that is. Now I may never know who my father really was.”

   “Why this sudden interest? Did your Grandpa put you up to this?”

   “No. Something tells me I need to go.”

   “I see.”

   “You know, you could help me a little.”

   “How?”

   “I've never known what happened between you and him.”

   “You wouldn't understand.”

   “Try me. I'm not a child anymore, Mom.”

   “But why now?”

   “Why not? Are you trying to hide something from me?”