What Sawyer Knew

Johnny Mathis was playing in the background as Sawyer rifled through a box of old letters.  How could it be that his stoic, void of a father could write such beautiful letters to his mother? Sawyer was a very young child when his father, Max, deployed to Korea. The gist of his memory was his father’s return; the vacancy in his eyes as he walked down the steps to greet them. Gone was the twinkle that Sawyer had so briefly enjoyed as a toddler. In the years to follow Max became distant. He withdrew mostly but when he did pay attention to his son it was to lash out and burn cigarettes into his Sawyer’s skin.

Sawyer stared at the portrait of his parents hanging on the wood panelling of his bedroom, right above the chest of drawers. With that, he returned the shoe box to its drawer.

He stepped out onto the porch for some fresh air when he saw his daughter out in the fields. He walked out closer toward her, having a feeling what she was getting into. Sawyer had seen the dead cat during his morning walk but left it as he was in a hurry to return home. Now he regretted his choice.

“Dammit Alice!”

Alice jumped back and turned around to see her dad coming at her and she winced. He grabbed her arm and pulled so hard he was close to dragging her. When he heard her cry he slowed his pace and released his grip on her arm. Instead, he held her hand and walked her back to the porch.

He made her sit on the steps while he went into his bedroom and reached for the quaaludes. But then his eyes scanned the nightstand and he saw his 30 day sobriety chip from Narcotics Anonymous. He clenched his eyes, dropped the bag of quaaludes and instead grabbed his cigarettes. He headed back out to sit with Alice.

He checked to make sure her arm was alright from grabbing it.

“You can’t be doing weird shit like that, Alice. Especially not now.”

Marcy came out to find her daughter and husband on the front porch steps.

“What’s going on, Sugar Bear?” She sat beside Alice.

Sawyer lingered a minute longer before going back inside. He had a ball game and a container of Skol waiting for him.

But when he turned on the TV it was only a string of commercials, which he routinely muted. In that mute, that silence his conscience tortured him. How could I have grabbed her so hard? What’s the matter with me? I’m as bad as my old man was.

His inner dialogue led to frustration, which in turn, festered as anger as he bolted toward the back of the house. He threw a punch into the guest bedroom wall, breaking up a small bit of drywall. It hurt his hand more than the wall. 

The anger gave way to hopelessness, to desperation and the desire to find solace without a substance to abuse. He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. When he turned toward the nightstand he was surprised to find an old, tattered Bible. It had been Marcy’s before she’d relapsed.

He picked it up and held it close to his chest as he lie staring at the popcorn ceiling. He closed his eyes once more and remembered the last time he went to church. It had been the first time since Dana had run away. 

The sermon was entitled The Sins of the Father. He waited a bit for the small congregation to dissipate before he walked down the hall to find the Pastor in his office. 

“Pastor Paul?” He asked as he nervously rolled the bill of his baseball cap in his hands.

“Sawyer Davidson? That you, son?” He motioned for him to take a seat.

“Yessir…..um well, I guess you heard about our Dana runnin’ off…..”

Pastor Paul leaned back in his chair, furrowed his brow and picked a piece of lint off his coat sleeve.

“Yes, I hear something about that.”

“Umm…well I uh, I just want to know…umm, you think my sins had anything to do with that? I mean is this some kind of curse, Pastor?”

Pastor Paul had also remembered Sawyer’s father as a disturbed and violent man.

“I don’t believe in curses, son. But I do believe God disciplines us.”

“He’s punishing me ain’t he…” Sawyer’s mumble was barely audible but enough for the pastor to hear.

A long heavy silence separated them. Finally the Pastor spoke.

“You’ve got to look into yourself Sawyer. You’ve got to ask Jesus to reveal your sins and you have to face….”

At this Sawyer bolted out the office door. The pastor’s words were like kerosene to the fire within him. It was fueled by fear and guilt. He’d come to church hoping his feelings would be dispelled, hoping for some compassion. But he left feeling even heavier than when he’d entered.

The phone rang and jolted him back to the present moment. Leaving the Bible on the bed, he ran to the living room to answer the call. It was his brother Kenny. 

“Did you see that hit?!”

“No, I just turned it back on.”

But once back on the couch his eyes turned to look out the front window. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” Sawyer said as he hung up the phone, still eyeing the window.

He watched Marcy get into her old high school boyfriend’s pick-up. Worse than that, he saw Alice watching intently. She turned to ask Sawyer the question he dreaded was coming.

“Do you think Mr. Dale and…..”

He cut her off and rose his voice. Then he softened as he saw her delicate expression and motioned for her to come sit beside him on the couch.

“Come watch the Astros with me.”

She ran over to sit with him. He thought he heard her sniffle but he didn’t say a word. Instead he put his arm around her as he kissed the top of her head.