When A Lie Becomes Truth

When a lie becomes indistinguishable from the truth, is it really a lie? 

The lone man walked slowly down the snow-covered sidewalk, collar flipped up in a vain attempt to shield his neck and face from the blustering wind, hands stuffed in his pockets in a slightly more successful attempt to keep his fingers from freezing. 

The falling flakes were visible in the light cast by the street lamps placed at regular intervals along the road. They seemed to be lighting his path and his alone, not a soul was in sight. The usually bustling city had shut down due to the late hour and the inclement weather. Only his footprints were visible in the fresh powder, giving the illusion that he was the first to walk down this sidewalk.

You sent me to fight for good. For truth and justice. You sent me to kill bad guys and steal stuff. I was given a mission to protect the citizens back home from enemies overseas who would like to kill our innocents and steal our innocence. They want to destroy us, and you sent me to destroy them.

The man came to a cafe. Bright light spilled from the large windows, drawing him into the establishment like a moth to a flame. He stopped at the door and brushed the snow off of his shoulders and head. He then stomped his feet a few times to clear the bottom of his stylish leather boots of any packed snow and grabbed the well-worn bronze handle. The peeling oak door opened to reveal a brightly lit, if empty, cafe and bakery. The five tables scattered around the place were empty and their chairs had been placed seat down on the tabletop to signal they had been cleaned for the night. A glass display case at the front was devoid of the pastries and cakes it usually held.

Suddenly, the clomp of a man’s footsteps on hardwood echoed through the place and a man appeared from behind the curtain separating the kitchen from the rest of the cafe.

“Regular?” He asked, without any other pleasantries, wiping suds from his hands onto the apron tied around his waist.

“Please,” the man responded as he pulled a chair down from one of the tables.

I agreed to fight for you. For us. I believed in our mission. I decided to do whatever it took to punish the evil that had arrayed itself against us and promote the good of our cause. To do this you said I had to become like the enemy. To go undercover and to spy. I didn’t just have to lie, I had to become the lie. I had to convince the enemy that I was one of them, that I believed in their cause and hated our own.

In less than a minute, the air smelled of roasting coffee and baking bread. The sounds of clinking mugs, dripping coffee, and a whirring oven soon filled the previously quiet room. The lone patron removed his jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. He then sat down and stared out the window, thinking of nothing but the way the lights of the cafe made the snow glow as if it was alive. The man loved the snow. Every winter, frozen water fell from the sky and made everything look white and pure and clean. For a time, the backstreets and alleys of the city looked almost as nice as the wide, mansion-lined boulevards.

Then the sun came out and its unflinching rays brought the world back into focus, with all of its evils on full display. He knew the snow didn’t really make the evils go away, but it kind of felt that way. 

I left everything I ever knew for our cause. You gave me a new name, a new birth date, and a new background. The old me ceased to exist. Together, we crafted someone who hated good and loved evil. Who thrived in the darkness and scorned the light.

And it worked.

The owner of the cafe emerged once again from behind the curtain, a steaming cup of black coffee in one hand and a plate topped with a thick slab of banana bread in the other. He set the food and drink in front of his one customer and patted him on the back. He then disappeared again behind the curtain. 

The man grasped the handle of the mug and brought it to his mouth. Wisps of steam rose from the dark liquid as he breathed in the scent. The first sip scorched his tongue but he barely noticed. He felt the hot drink slide down his throat and warm his freezing body. He took another sip then set the mug down and broke a piece off of the banana bread.

Together, we fooled the foolers. The evil-doers thought I was one of their own and invited me into their inner circle. When I had been accepted, I stole from them and fed you information that resulted in the capture and even death of some of them. At every turn, I foiled their plans and made certain their evil deeds were stopped before harm could come to the innocents. 

The man made quick work of his coffee and bread then rose from his chair, brushing crumbs off of his shirt and pants. He cleared his throat, then called for the owner of the cafe who came through the curtain a few seconds later. 

“Would you like another cup of coffee? Another slice of banana bread?” The man asked making his way towards his customer.

“No, no, I am good. Thank you very much, it was wonderful as always.” The man reached into his back pocket. The owner began to protest, saying that it was on the house, but stopped when his customer didn’t offer cash but his entire wallet. 

For a moment, the owner’s face was a knot of confusion, then his face fell. “You're doing it tonight?” He asked quietly.

“Yes,” was the one-word response. He stepped forward and placed the wallet into the man’s hands. 

“You don’t have to do this. You really don’t.”

“I do,” the man sighed and reached for his coat. Putting it on, he said, “Thank you. For everything.” Then he slipped through the door and back out into the falling snow.

I made these criminals and vagrants my friends. They became my only friends. Their ideas became my ideas and their thoughts became my thoughts. I became one of them. Slowly, the lie I had been living began to slip away. The lies became truth, and truth became the lies. I became lost in the labyrinth I—we—had built for me.

The lie was too successful.

The man once again flipped his collar up and thrust his hands into his pockets. He glanced back. His earlier tracks had been covered by the falling snow as if they had never existed. He turned away and continued making his way down the sidewalk, the street lamps once again his only companions. His destination wasn’t far. Less than a mile. 

I realized that I had fallen for my own lie. I no longer even knew who I was. I had been so busy protecting everyone else from evil, that I hadn’t protected myself.

As the man walked, he suddenly had the urge to make a snowball. Bending down at the waist, he used both hands to scoop up some snow and form it into a perfect sphere. He chose his target—a snow-covered red sedan about twenty yards ahead—and fired. The snowball sailed through the air and landed square on the car’s windshield. 

I have slipped into the grasp of the evil and lies and I can feel them squeezing me, trying to suffocate the life out of me.

He smiled briefly then kept walking. He could see his destination just up the street. The imposing brick building that used to mean safety and security. In a sense, it was his home. That was before.

I refuse to go out of the way. I went into this mission pretending to be a bad guy. I refuse to come out actually a bad guy.

He took a deep breath and walked slowly up the stone steps leading to the large double doors. It had been a while since he was welcome in this place, but he had decided he would visit one more time and drop his facade once and for all. 

He opened the heavy doors and stepped across the threshold. It had been a long time, yet it still felt familiar. 

Evil and lies are all-consuming beasts. Uncontested, they will spread until the only option is to burn it all down and start over. 

The man stood just inside the doorway and looked around. There were a few faces he recognized and a few he didn’t. Some of them wore looks of shock while others looks of confusion. 

He glanced over each of them and then looked up at the large flag hanging from the ceiling. The flag he had gone to war under. The flag he had fought for, killed for, and lied for.

I still believe in our cause. In my bones, I still do but I must drop this facade before the lies finally overtake me and send me spiraling into a life of grey. Where there is no black and white and everyone does what is right in their own eyes. I could think of nothing worse. I did what I could. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.

Signed, 

Your loyal servant.

The man let the image of the flag burn into his vision, then he shut his eyes and placed his left hand over his chest pocket. He could feel the sealed envelope through the fabric. It was his letter. The why and the how. Hopefully, they would read it and understand the dangers of lies.

With his right hand, he then reached into the small leather holster on his right hip and withdrew his service weapon. Without opening his eyes, he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.