Dad's True Face

I remember the wind drying my tears as I cried over my ice cream. If I had just been patient and waited for the perfect pitch, we would have won. That’s all I wanted. Well, that’s not true. I just wanted to make Dad proud. He was my hero back then, and I wanted to be just like him.

He must have noticed I wasn’t inside with the rest of the team. I remember watching through the front window as he made his way to the door. His coach’s whistle still hanging from his neck and dangling like a silver dot for the I in Giants. He was so big compared to me, I had no idea how I could ever measure up to him.

I didn’t look at him when he came outside. I hid behind the brim of my hat and turned the volume up on my Walkman. All I could see were his scuffed white New Balance sneakers and his faded jeans. I could feel his eyes looking down on me. I watched his feet walk over to the empty part of the bench and could feel his huge body as he sat and nudged my arm. When I didn’t react, he laid his massive frame on me, squishing me till I yelled for him to stop.

I looked at him, and he smiled at me, motioning for me to take the headphones off. I rolled my eyes, but I did. I still didn’t say anything. There was nothing for me to say. He was there and he saw what had happened. The whole team saw what had happened. I could feel the tears building in my eyes again.

“What’s going on, Champ? The team is missing you in there.”

“I’m not a champ, I’m a loser.”

“You are NOT a loser, Buddy.”

“Well, I’m sure not a champ either. We lost. Remember?”

“Not really, I’ve already moved on.”

“How? It just happened!”

“You’re right, it happened, it’s in the past. Now I’m sitting on this bench enjoying ice cream with my son. You can’t live in the past, Bud.”

“But I let everyone down.”

“Look at them. Does anyone look like they care? I’m going to let you in on a secret. You’re going to forget this game when you’re my age.”

I turned and looked into the shop. The rest of the team was laughing and joking. There wasn’t a mad, sad, or disappointed face in the bunch. I looked over at him. He looked back at me, raised his eyebrows, and gave a little wink.

“Come on, let's get in there, the team needs their all-star player.”

We had just stood up when we saw him. Neither of us had heard him, but he was there. I don’t know what it was, but he gave me the creeps. He looked normal enough. His shoes were a little too clean for our town, maybe, but the rest of him seemed normal. No, I take that back. I remember now. It was his eyes. He had these weird twitchy bloodshot eyes.

“Evenin, It’s been a while, Mikey.”

We stood with our feet rooted to the earth. I looked up at my dad. His smile was gone. His jaw muscle twitched the way it does when we were driving and someone cuts us off. Mom always had to tell him, “Calm down, James, they’re just a jerk, let it go.”

“Sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else. Good luck to ya.” He put his hand on my shoulder and was a little rough guiding me to the door.

“No, I don’t think I have the wrong man, you have that little white house on Hill Street, don’t you?”

I felt his hand come off my back and I turned around to see the man smiling.

“I heard you go by Jim now. Is that your boy? Hey, kid did you know your old man here used tah- “

“Shut your God damn mouth.”

He didn’t yell. He didn’t have to. His words held all the hatred of a dog's growl. His massive hands became tight fists. I felt that if I wasn’t there, or if this had been another town, or even just another time, he would already be using those fists to erase that smile from the man’s face.

“There he is.” The man smiled.

I felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder again as he pushed me to the door. “Go inside, Bud. I need to talk to this guy real quick.”

“Ah, no no I think he should stay.” The man put his hand into his jacket pocket.

“Leave him out of this.”

“I wish I could, but I need your help, and even though I am a dear old friend, I know you don’t like to help your friends anymore. Hell, you act like we never existed, playing this Mr. Rogers small town bullshit. Hey, come over here, son.”

Dad put a hand on my chest and stepped between us.

“What the fuck do you want, Earl?”

“See, son, I told you. Your dad and I are old friends. Nothing much, Jim, I’m just in a bit of a bind and need some help out.”

“I’m out. I’ve been out for over a decade.”

“That’s exactly why you are just the man I wanted to see. You did it, and I want to do it too.”

“I can’t help you.”

“You can and you will.”

“No.”

“Tell me, when's the baby due?”

Dad was like a bear, he closed half the distance between them before the man reminded him of his hand in the pocket.

“WOOO Big fella, calm down now. All I want is some help disappearing. Now, you can help me, or I can shoot you, your boy, and visit the misses tonight.”

I don’t remember what was said next. I just remember the fear. I have never felt more scared in my life. I remember we walked to our car. The man walked behind us. When we got to the car, he took me by the shoulder and walked me to the passenger side. He opened the back door and pushed me in, and then got in next to me. My dad got in the driver's seat. We drove.

The street lights started to pop on one by one. The sun was setting over the hills, and the warm dusk air smelled like cut grass. Sports fields always looked different at night. The lights make everything but the field dark. There's something magical about it. Tonight, I didn’t feel any magic.

I felt sick. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to embarrass Dad. The only one talking on the ride was Earl. He would ask dad if he remembered the time that he did something or other, and then he would laugh like a banshee. He was the only one who laughed, too.

When we pulled into the parking lot, Earl told us to get out.

“No, he stays in the car.”

“Mikey, I think you forgot who is running the show here.”

“I forgot how fucking dumb you are Earl.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re the only car out here, we’re about to break into a county building. They do have cops out here, you know. He needs to stay and be the lookout.”

For the first time on the ride, Earl was silent.

“Well?”

“Get out and lie on the ground, Mike, hands behind your back and your ankles crossed. You know the position. Son, you come with me."

Dad got out and got on the ground. Earl pulled me from the back seat, then shoved me across the front seat till I was behind the wheel. He pulled a handful of zip ties from his pocket and secured my hands to the wheel.

“If you see a normal car? Don’t do shit. If you see a cop car? Don’t do shit. If you see a cop, get out of his car? lay on this horn. You got that?"

“How?”

“How what?”

“How can I lay on the horn if my hands are tied?”

“Use your fucking face.”

Tears built up in my eyes. It was like he slapped me. No one had ever talked to me like that. Even when he was mad, Dad never talked like that to me. I nodded and turned my face to look down at Dad. I just lost it, I sobbed like a baby, I couldn’t hold back.

“Champ, it’s going to be ok. Just focus on looking out, and I’ll be right back, ok? Got it?” Dad coached. I don't know how he was so calm.

“If you honk this horn for any other reason, I’m killing your whole family in front of you. Got it, boy?” Earl whispered.

My throat tightened and I burst into hysterics again. Why was this happening?

“Leave the kid alone, Earl, let's get on with it.”

Earl pulled the keys from the ignition and slammed the door on his way out.

I watched as they walked across the parking lot to the storage room. Their silhouettes were shadows in the dark. When they got to the door, I could tell which one was Dad. He was taller, and he would hold the keys up to the sky before hunching over the door handle. Finally, the door opened, and the interior light turned on. I could see Dad followed by Earl.

They left the door open, and I could see the movements of their shadows. It was quiet, the way small towns are on Wednesday nights. I wiggled my hands against the plastic cuffs, and they bit deeper into my wrists. I thought about using my teeth to bite them off like an animal, but I worried I’d hit the horn by accident. The thought made me sick.

Instead, I watched in silence and gagged on the stuffy pine-scented air. What were they doing in there? It was impossible to tell. All I could see were the movements of their shadows. It looked like one was hunched over, doing most of the work, grabbing bags and such, the other stood still. Now and then, the lazy shadow would wave its hand, but that was it. Then both the shadows stood together and froze, holding something large between them.

I could see the heads bob like they were arguing. Then the shadows collided, and I heard what sounded like a firecracker go off—just one. The shadows rolled and tumbled against the wall. They merged into a single scorpion-like monster. Its stinger came down again and again into its own head.

The shadows divided. One stood over the other. It raised its foot and brought it down so hard I felt it in my face. My guts did a flip when I saw the legs of the laying shadow do one final kick. Then, the stand shadow limped across the wall towards the door and into the darkness.

I pissed myself. I couldn’t help it. I screamed, I couldn’t help that either. I couldn’t tell whose shadow was coming towards me. But it didn’t look like Dad. He was always tall, confident, and proud. This figure was hunched, savage, and slunk like a wolf. I slammed my forehead onto the horn. I looked up. The figure was now running towards me. I slammed my head on the wheel again and held it there until I heard the hand slap against the window.

“Josh!”

The sound of my name made me pop my head up. It was Dad’s face, covered with blood oozing from a cut just above his hairline. His face was a mixture of pain and relief and something else. Something that resembled joy. I don’t remember it clearly, but I swear I remember he was smiling.

He took his pocket knife and cut my hands loose and asked if I was ok. He checked my wrists and hugged me tight, then limped back to the storage locker. He went inside and came back out with one of the bat bags. It looked limp but heavy with something I don’t know, Definitely not bats. He locked the door and tugged on it twice before getting back to the car.

The ride back to the ice cream shop was quieter than the ride to the field. He was shaking, and his eyes jerked between the mirrors and the road.

The shop was closed when we got back to it. The rest of the team must have left hours ago. I wonder if any of them saw us leave. Later, I found out that no one had. We sat in the car listening to the engine for what felt like forever. Neither of us spoke. Then he opened up the ashtray and scooped out all the quarters. He held them out to me without looking at me.

“Here.”

“What’s that for?”

“Go call mom. Tell her to come pick you up.” He didn’t look at me.

“What?”

“Take the quarters, Josh.”

My voice was caught in my throat. I didn’t understand. Finally, he turned to me and put the quarters in my hand.

“Listen, Josh, I have to go. I have to go, and that’s just how it is. I love you. I love your mom. I even love your little sister.”

“Jennies not born yet,” I murmur.

“Doesn’t matter I love her anyway. I know this won’t make any sense but that’s why I got to go.”

“If you love us, why do you have to go?”

“Josh, stop.”

“Who was Earl?

“Josh, I don’t have time for this. You need to get out and go call your mom. I need to go.”

“Dad…”

He reached over me and opened the passenger door. I looked outside, then back over at him. He didn’t look at me. His hands were wrapped tight around the top of the wheel, and I knew he was right. I slid out and looked in at him one last time. I could see a tear gliding down his cheek.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Bud.”

I slammed the door. I could feel him watching me as I walked to the phone. Mom picked it up on the first ring. She was frantic, not groggy at all.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“I’m at the Ice cream shop?”

“What? Where’s your dad?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Josh, where’s Dad?”

“Mom, is Dad’s real name Mikey?”

I could just make out her gasping, “Oh God.” Then silence.

“Mom?”

“Stay there. Actually, no. Find some place to hide. I’ll honk the horn when I get there.”

I heard the worry in her voice. I was too tired for it to affect me. I had already screamed my last scream and cried my last tear. I looked over to Dad's old station wagon and gave it a thumbs up. It was like he was dropping me off to visit friends. He honked twice, then drove off down the road. I watched until the taillights were swallowed by the night.

I didn’t hide like Mom told me to. I sat on the bench in front of the shop and waited. I thought about Dad. He was my hero. He was who I wanted to be when I grew up. A hard-working family man who always stood up for what was right, who never left someone in need. But there I sat, left behind, and in need of a hero.

What makes me the most upset now is that he was right. I don’t remember one detail from that damn little league game. I remember that night, though. I remember Earl’s buggy eyes. The fear I felt through my body. The bite of the cuffs on my wrist. The smell and warmth of my piss soaked pants. Most of all, I remember his smile. His smile on his blood-covered face. That smile is burned into my mind. That was the moment. The moment I truly saw who my dad was.