My Fathers Secret

My driver pulls us into the entrance of the long driveway of my childhood home. The driveway feels like a mile long. Pulling up slowly, the car comes to a stop. I step out of the back of the car and stare at the massive white two-story plantation-style home. I feel a pang of anxiety at the realization that nothing about this house has changed since I left. My mother divorced my father, left town, and never came back when I was 17. I graduated high school, joined the Marines, and shattered my dad's plans for a global takeover. The stone path leads to the stairs of the wrap-around porch. The lawn is dead and grey due to Texas having such a harsh winter. Walking up the steps to the house, everything is white except for the door and window shutters, which are dark mahogany. It has a wrap-around porch on both floors with Greek-style revival columns. I take a deep breath; stepping through the doors means going back to my teenage years. I got the call about 24 hours ago and got on the first flight out. My father was dying, and they said to get here as fast as I could to say my goodbyes and to handle his legal affairs. The doors closed behind me, "Hello, Mr. Baker," my father's doorman said. "It's nice to see you after all these years, and you are a grown man now." It's been 16 years since I left. "Don't call me Mr. Baker. I'm not my father. You can address me by my first name," I retort back. I didn't mean to sound like a rude asshole. "Yes, Wade," he replied. "It's nice to see you too, Tyler," I said because it really was nice to see him after all these years. Being the child of a housemaid meant always being around each other during our childhood. It's weird to see him working at my father's house when he is just a few years older than me. 

Tyler takes my coat and bags and walks up the grand staircase to put my belongings in one of the rooms. Standing inside the house is the big open area with a high ceiling. To the right is the doorway to the open family room in which no one spent time. To the left is the doorway leading to the library. When the sun is at the right spot, and the windows are open. My mother would sit and watch the sunset, casting orange and yellow across the bookshelves. During colder times, she would be in here sitting at the desk with the fireplace behind her. I slowly go upstairs, and the air changes. The first floor felt light and bright, like sunshine. The second floor shifted to dark and heavy like a dark spirit had thickened the air. I reached the top of the staircase and into the hallway of bedrooms. In the first bedroom on the right, I can see where Tyler placed my things at the edge of my bed. I continue to walk down the hallway. I begin to hear the noises from his ventilator and patient monitor. The beeps get louder and louder with every step I take. 

I approach my father's room and slowly step into the doorway. A hospital bed now takes up the place of his regular bed. He has the covers pulled up to his waist. He has a breathing tube attached to his face, assisting his cancer-filled lungs. His dark features are now pale white as if he were already dead. The hospice nurse is on the other side of the bed, messing with something I can't see. I slowly make one more step, causing the floor to creak. Standing upright, the nurse spots me. "Oh, Hello, Darlin, my name is Dixie. How do you know the patient?" She asks in a thick Southern accent. Looking to be a few years older than me, her scrubs extenuate her thick curves. With minimal makeup and a long brown braid to one side, it enhances the small features of her face. I see some tattoos peeking through the rolled-up sleeves. I would ask to take her out for a drink in different circumstances. "He is my father," I reply. The sadness in Dixie's dark brown eyes tells me she didn't get to experience my father for who he is. 

I pull up a chair and sit next to the bed, and I watch for a moment. I think about when the man before me was in his prime as Judge Baker in this small town. The Baker name is a well-known name in this area. Every man in the Baker family was either a lawyer or in law enforcement for generations. Every single one of them was dirty and corrupt. I am his only son, and I can't imagine the lies my father told people after I left. I didn't want to get into politics so Judge Baker could dig his nails even more deeply in this area. To have strings pull my life and be this man's puppet for world domination. My father was abusive towards my mother and me. A lot of the time, I stepped in as a shield, taking the brunt end of anger. In public, we were the perfect white picket fence family. My mother's sanity was on the line when a plan was set in motion to leave. 

One night, after a nasty fight, he hit her. Yelling at him that she was leaving him, I woke up. I rushed to see the two at war with each other. The hard-headed woman was not willing to back down from this one and the man who always had to be above her. They both spotted me and slowly separated without saying a word. Shortly after knowing my mom was okay and in her room, I went back to bed. The next day, my mother was gone. It didn't take long for rumors to spread in our tiny town. One was that she was having an affair and that my father gave her an ultimatum: stay and be publicly humiliated or leave town. The worst rumor was that my father killed her and covered it up. My mother and I were too close for her to leave me. We went through some hard times together at the hands of my father. Leaving me with him was never an option.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Dixie asked me to hold my father's head up while pillows were swapped for clean ones. I sit back in my chair when I see his eyes slowly open. Looking at me, I can see the light turn on in his mind. I notice the hand making a swirling motion. "Hello, Mr. Baker, do you remember me? It's Dixie, and your son is here." gesturing toward me. Continuing the hand, making the swirling motion, I ask, "What's wrong with his hands?". Grabbing a clipboard with a piece of paper, Dixie placed it under his hand. I notice words starting to be scribbled on the paper. I grab the board when as soon as the pen drops. I read out loud, "Desk in the library, I'm sorry." I looked up to see the sadness in his eyes, and he gave me a tiny nod before they slowly closed again. I look over at Dixie, "Are you good here? I want to check the desk in the library." Giving me a nod and a soft "I'm good", I take off out the door to the hallway. I run down the stairs and into the back of the library I reach the desk. I sifted through all the papers and didn't find anything unusual. I start opening all the drawers when I see an envelope with "Wade" on it. Opening the envelope, I find a page-long letter. 

Wade, 

If you are reading this, I'm dying, or I'm already dead. I am sorry for everything I put you and your mother through. I know saying it doesn't mean anything to you, and you don't have to forgive me. Getting diagnosed with lung cancer opened my eyes too late. First, I am so proud of you and everything you have accomplished in the Marines. I saved everything and put it in a book. 

I looked in the open drawer. There is a book full of pictures, newspaper clippings, and printed articles about everything I had done during my service. 

Second, It's time I tell you the truth about your mother. There is no easy way to say it, so I am just going to tell you. I had an affair, an affair with a woman who became pregnant. I covered it up, but I wanted to ensure the woman and child were cared for. Keeping tabs on her, I gave her a job here on the grounds. That night your mother and I fought was the night your mother found out. After you went to bed that night, she couldn't relax. She found the woman and your older brother and killed her. I helped cover it up and escape. She has been living life like it never happened, and we decided not to tell anyone about her location. I have been in contact with her and sending her funds. All the information is in an envelope in your book. Do not trust your older brother. He is looking for her. 

The letter ends without telling me who my brother is. I look up to see Tyler standing there. "Where is she!?" he yells. I put my hands up in the air in surrender, holding the letter in one hand. "I don't know; I never knew," I reply. "Give me the letter!" continuing to yell and point the gun at me. I slowly lower my hand and drop the letter in the fireplace, hearing the letter burn with the pops of the firewood. 

With a gun still pointed at me, "You are going to help me find her," he says in a calm voice. "Did you know we are brothers?" I asked as I slowly walked around the desk. The silence tells me everything I need to know, but I must keep him talking. "I didn't know. They never told me," I said, slowly striding forward. With no response, I can't get a read on him. I cant get a read on him to try and predict what might happen next. I slowly inch closer to him, planning for an attack. "Did you know when we were kids? How long have you known?" I ask as I'm about to reach him. "Don't!" he shouts at me, "don't! Move any closer. I know what you are doing!". There is a pause in the air, "I'm sorry, I won't move." The truth is, I do not need to move as I'm an arm's length away from him. It doesn't take much to disarm a person, especially when they are holding the gun straight out at you. "I don't want to have to kill you, at least not yet." He said. "I'm going to kill your father now that you are here, and then we are going to find your mother." "Why kill him now? He is already dying. How come you haven't killed him all these years?" I asked. "Only he knows where your mother is, and he always refused to tell me. I knew she wasn't dead and that he was hiding her somewhere," he said. "If I knew, things could have been different," I told my brother. With the barrel of the gun pointing at me, I shift my weight so it now points to the side of my head, and I make my move. Quickly, with one hand, I grab the barrel of the gun, and with the other, I hit his wrist, causing him to lose grip of the gun. I snag the weapon out of his hand and turn it on him. In the skirmish of the movements, he pulls a knife and swipes at me. He grazes my shoulder, and I shoot him in the leg, causing him to go down. I hear Dixie scream upstairs, unaware if there is a partner involved. I run upstairs to make sure Dixie is okay. After seeing no one else in the room, I go room to room, making sure there isn't anyone about to execute the rest of Tyler's plan. The rest of the house is clear. I make my way back to my father's room and slowly sit in the chair next to the hospital bed. I take his cold hand in mine with the realization, he is gone.