In lieu of happiness, part 3
Harper heard the sound of gravel crunching under the tires of Jim’s truck. He dreaded seeing the old man, but he was also glad he’d come. Jim was an old friend of Harper’s father. Though there was no promise made when Harper’s dad died, Jim seemed to take it upon himself to stay in touch. Harper waited on Jim with a mix of fear and gratitude heavy in his stomach feeling himself more and more a disconsolate victim of his own unshakeable sorrow.
Jim eased up the side steps of the porch and made his way to the rocker next to Harper. He sat down without speaking. After a few beats Jim said, “Morning, Harp.”
“Morning.”
Neither man spoke for a while after that. They stared out across the backyard and watched the birds taking their breakfast at the feeders hung on poles at the edge of the woods. Harper wanted to talk so badly, and at the same time he didn’t want to say a word. This was the desperate, tired battle that played out inside of him almost constantly. He wanted to act, to talk, to be somebody different, but he couldn’t. One time years ago a therapist said to him sharply, “Won’t, you said ‘can’t’, but it’s not that you can’t do something different, it’s that you won’t.” There was something in that, some truth, but all the same Harper didn’t go back to see her after that. When it came time to make the next appointment he said, “I forgot my calendar, let me call you when I get home.” He thought he might call, but he didn’t.
Harper broke the silence, “How’d you know?”
“Susan called Beth on her way out of town.”
“You okay?” said Jim.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.” Jim nodded his head just so.
“I guess.” said Harper. His eyes brimmed with tears. “No. I’m not okay.”
“What’s not okay?”
“I pushed her away.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t? I think you do.”
Harper was silent. He could feel his insides shift and slow to idle, doors were shutting, lights were being turned off, his heart beat slowed; inside his body it was like someone was closing down the shop. It was a familiar feeling, and he fought against it. He stared at the pain. It was a knotted mess inside his chest anchored with chains to his fractured past. He could talk to Jim about it, he knew that, it would be no problem. He opened his mouth to speak, then broke his gaze abruptly and looked away.
“I don’t know,” he said again. I really don’t know, Jim.”
“Harp, I’ve known you for a long time. I knew your daddy. He was a good man, but he wasn’t all good. He made a lot of mistakes, a bunch of them with you. But here’s the deal. As long as you keep that knot of fear and anger buried inside your body, untouched and covered up like you’re hiding it from the world and yourself too, then all you’ll ever be is out here on your own, all alone and full of pain and sadness.”
Jim paused. A little brown bird swooped down and landed lightly on the deck. She picked up a little stick, flitted up to the railing, and then flew off to a high branch in a dogwood twenty yards off the back of the house.
“That may sound like a hard thing to say, but it’s true. Isn’t it? Tell me where I’m off base.”
Harper stared straight ahead and took a long, labored breath. “I can’t talk about it.”
“I hear you.” Jim paused again this time longer than before. “But, son, what I need you to hear me say is that if you don’t accept the fact that you’ve got a past that isn’t all bright and shiny, name it, and give it up to God, then the pain of your past will always have a claim on you that will overshadow anything you want to do and drive away anyone you want to be with. I’ll help you in any way you want, but until you let loose your grip on what’s eating you alive, then there’s no help for you. You don’t have to, but you can talk to me if you want to.”
“I know I can, Jim. Thank you. I will just not right now.”
“Okay if I sit with you awhile then?”
“Sure.”
The two men sat in silence for a long while. A little brown bird landed on the deck railing and said something softly to the backyard then turned Harper’s way. She was still for just a second, then she took off and flew down towards one of the feeders at the back edge of the yard. Right before she got there as if a current of wind suddenly caught her she swooped up high into the sky and disappeared beyond the trees.
