I cannot believe what I just heard, what my dad just explained to me, his 26 years old son. The expression on his face and the tone of his voice prove that he was telling the truth but my heart does not want to accept it. Not because I am mad at him. That would not be fair since it is my fault he did all of this. If it had not been for me... if it had not been for that 29 of June 1980, maybe we would not have to face this right now.
The story began that afternoon, June 29th 1980. This was the day my parents, Lucy and Karl Brony, were told by our family doctor to bring me to the hospital to run some tests. Therefore, two days later, I was sitting on my mom’s laps when my name was called by a nurse. I do not recall this day due to my young age but my dad told me that, as soon as I saw the doctor, I started crying, as if I knew he would give us bad news. And, my feeling was not wrong since, a week after those tests, he declared to my parents: “I am terribly sorry, Mr and Mrs Brony but your son has been diagnosed with leukemia.’’ At that precise moment, my parents felt as if the floor was slipping under their feet. My mom started crying and my dad was just staring at the doctor, not knowing what to say nor what to do. That night, they went back home, to that small house in Pennsylvania with only one room, a kitchen and a bathroom. As usual, they sat together around a little table, only, this time, my dad was holding me. The roof was leaking but the holes in the ceiling did not seem to bother them anymore. I was now their only concern. They wanted me to be cured, they wished to give me the best treatments but they both knew they did not have enough money to save me. They started talking about ways to get some. My father decided to look for a night job, in addition to his day job at the shoe factory, while my mom said she could work as a dress maker from home. They also decided to sell the car and to borrow money from the bank. However, as they were making plans on how to find a way to pay for my treatments, they were aware that it was almost impossible to cover all the expanses it would cost.
The following morning, my dad was on his way to finding a second job. But after being rejected at several places, despair started to submerge him. He sat quietly on a bench at the park and tears began to roll down his cheeks. He was feeling guilty for not being able to take care of his own family. Lost in his thoughts, he did not notice the man who sat next to him until this one began talking: “Hello Sir, my name is Evio. May I ask what is bothering you? Why do you look so sad when the day is so beautiful?’’ My father turned to face him. The stranger was a six foot tall man, wearing a black suit with black glasses. Usually, my dad would have gotten up and left if someone would have asked him the same thing. But, that day, he was feeling so empty and weak that he decided to confide in that man. He told him I was sick and needed treatments that we could not afford. He also told him how useless he felt to our family and to the world in general. After finishing his story, Evio looked at my dad and, even though this visitor was wearing glasses, his voice really felt sorry when he answered: “Poor man. I know I cannot understand completely what you are going through since I am not in your position but I profoundly want to help you. Listen to me carefully. I have a job offer for you. I was looking for someone less innocent but seeing how desperate you are, I could manage to give it to you.’’ Seeing my father’s eyes sparkling at that news, he continued: “If you accept this job, I will take care of your family for 24 years. That includes all of your important expanses such as your son treatments and his studies if he survives, which I really hope he does. The job will maybe seem unacceptable. However, you have to consider the fact that this opportunity is your son’s only chance of survival.’’ At that sentence, my father’s eyes went from joyful to suspicious. “What are you proposing?’’, he asked. “The job consists of a single action. Not a lifetime job, not a hard job, only one action: killing a man. If you accept, I will not answer any of your questions regarding the reason I am asking you to do this and why I am not doing it myself. The only questions I will consider will have to do with the murder and the means of accomplishing that job.’’ “I am sorry but this is out of the question”, answered Karl, my father. “I understand your reaction and I knew you would not accept so fast, although, here is my card and, if you change your mind, give me a call. But hurry, if you do not call me in the next two days, I will find someone else to do this. Goodbye and I hope I shall hear from you before that.’’ Mad at himself for having shared his personal problems with a complete stranger, Karl got up and continued seeking for a job.
At the end of the day, discouraged by his lack of success in finding a second job, he headed back home. When he got inside, he found my mother sitting on the floor, her knees pulled back to her chest, her face in her hands; she was sobbing. Her shoulders were shaking and, when she heard her husband coming inside, she looked at him, with eyes filled with tears, and through which sadness and despair could be seen. My dad ran to her and hugged her, whishing he had some kind of powers to send her some appeasement. He wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that their son would be okay, but he could not lie to her. He knew that poor people living in the United States had little chances of living happily ever after. At that moment, something fell on the floor. My mother picked it up and asked my dad what it was. He realized it was the card the man gave him at the park and that he forgot throwing it away. When my mom read on it: “Easy business to make easy money’’ my dad saw a spark of hope in her eyes and she asked him if he finally found a job that might help them to save me. He could not let her down. No, he could not tell her that, no matter how hard he tried to find a job, every place he went rejected him. Neither could he tell her that they were poor and would stay poor, that they did not have money to pay for my treatments and that she would have to face my death. So, without thinking he replied: ‘‘Yes honey, I found an easy job. A job that will help us make Ben better, that will help us building him a future.’’
That night, after my mother and I were asleep, dad called the man in the black suit and told him that, after thought, he would take the job offer. Therefore, the stranger started to explain to my father everything he needed to know. He told him where he would find the gun and how to use it; He also informed him of the place and the time he would have to kill the man, and how to do it without being seen or caught afterwards. When Karl hung up, he was feeling confused, as if all of this was part of a nightmare from which he would soon wake up. However, when he actually did wake up the next morning, a letter was waiting for him at the door, in which was written: ‘‘Tonight, July 5th, at 11 pm, on Saint Carmen Street’’. At that moment, he realized that everything was truly happening to him. He thought about calling back the guy and telling him he did not want to do it anymore but then he saw mom feeding me and remembered the promise he had made to her and decided that, no matter how hard it would be for him, he had to murder an unknown man.
When the sun was almost set, Karl left the shoe factory, went back home, ate supper with my mother and me, told us he was going to his new job interview and left. Surprisingly, he was not feeling sad or stressed. He now says that you have no idea the importance and the consequence of an action before you commit it. And he is right. He had to wait for the moment when he was holding the arm to realize that what he was about to do was totally crazy, even unthinkable, in fact it was completely out of character for him to even consider doing such a thing. But at the second he touched the gun, it was too late to back down and go back home. Well, even if it was not, how could he go back to his family and tell his wife that the moments she is spending with her son might be the last they ever have since they will not be able to afford any treatments. He hid behind a bush for about an hour, waiting for his victim to walk pass him, when he saw a poor man who was about his age enter the park. At the same time he heard the sound of an owl, which was the signal his ‘’boss’’ was suppose to give him when the man my dad had to kill was approaching. Therefore, he realised that the man who was walking slowly through the park was, in fact, the one he was suppose to shoot. A shiver went up his spine as he realized that he was about to take the life of a person who was just like him and even though he was wearing gloves, so that, in case the revolver was found, his fingerprints would not be detected, he could still feel the cold of the arm. Nevertheless, this human’s life was his only chance to save me and, consequently, his family happiness. So, my father pointed the firearm towards that innocent guy, closed his eyes and, with images of his son passing through his mind, he slowly pulled the trigger. The sound of it suddenly made him realize his deed and, as he opened his eyes, he saw gouts of blood spreading on the floor and felt tears sliding down his cheeks. However, he did not care about those tears on his face. The only thing he could think of was the quantity of blood on the man’s figure. A barking dog brought him back from his thoughts and he understood that it was too late to change the past and that, in order to help those he loved, he had to go back to his life and pretend nothing had ever happened.
***
Twenty-three years and ten months after that day, my parents and I were walking in that same park, side by side, talking about the job interview as an accountant I had just gone to. Mom was so proud of me and I could see her excitement as she was telling me for the twentieth time how I was the first in the family who had graduated from college. Dad, at my left, was lost in his thoughts. My mother was telling me how he has been like this since I got sick when I was little. But I now know the reason of that silence. He still could not forget that terrible deed he had committed. No matter how many years had passed July 5th 1980 was still fresh in his memory. That morning, he had received a message on his cellular from the man with whom he had concluded the deal with decades ago. In that message, he was telling him that he was leaving the country because only two months was left for their pact to be finished. He also gave a phone number to my father and told him that if, during this short period of time, he would need some money, even thought the man doubted he would need any of it since my father had not asked him for anything except my treatments when I had leukemia, he only had to call that number and leave a message saying how much money he wanted. When dad had heard the man’s voice, a vague of remorse submerged him and he realized that he would never be able to live in peace if he acted like nothing had ever happened and if justice had not been given to the family of the victim.
The day after, he went by the cemetery and put flowers on the tomb of the man he had killed twenty-three years, two months and one day ago. Every week since that terrible day, he had gone to that cemetery to put flowers on the tomb and leave an envelope with money for the family to be able to survive without a father taking care of them. So, that afternoon, he went to the house of that family in order to tell them the truth. Once he knocked on the door, a young man, who was about my age, opened. When my father saw him, he just stood straight and stared in the guy’s eyes. Dad realized that, in order to save his own son, he had killed the father and the husband of others. He had gone there with the intention of telling them the real story, however, once facing the victim’s relatives, he had no idea what to say and no words would come out of his mouth. Therefore, before he would break down and cry, he mumbled sorry, turned around and ran away. When he stopped running he found himself in front of the police station. He had no intention of turning himself in so fast but he felt like a force was pulling him towards that building and knew he had to do it. So, he took a deep breath, went up the stairs, opened the front door, went to the front desk and said:
“I have a confession to make, but I want my wife and son to be presents when I`ll make it. Here is our phone number. Please, call and tell them to be fast.”
The policeman nodded suspiciously, took the receiver, dialled the number and, when I picked up the phone, he told me to come with my mother right away to the police station. Worried that something might have happened to my dad, we were there in less than 10 minutes. Nevertheless, when we walked in they brought us in a small room where we saw my dad, sitting on a chair; he was crying. I wanted to run at his side and ask him what was the problem but he told us to sit and, with policemen surrounding us, he started talking. He told us the whole story. From the day I got diagnosed to the murder and until that very second.
And here I am, not able to move or to speak, my dad crying in front of me, my mom sobbing next to me. Even the police officers were not moving or talking. Finally, by dad breaks the deadly silence:
“Honey, I am deeply sorry. Son, do not feel guilty. This is my entire fault and neither your mother nor you have to feel responsible for my action. Please know that I love you both as much as a heart could love but I understand that, after my confession, you will maybe not talk to me anymore. What I did is unforgiveable and I am fully conscious of that, and I want to pay for what I did.”
- Why have you wait until now to tell us all of this? Why dad? are the only words I manage to say.
- I was waiting for you to get a job so that you could take care of your mother. Ben, look at me in the eyes. I never meant to hurt you. Now, look at your mom and look at the man you have become. She raised you well and was always there for you. Today, it is your turn to care for her and to be there when she will need you, especially in the next weeks and months. Honey, now, you look at me. Your eyes, I will never forget them. That look gave me courage when I had none, that look kept me alive. However, every time I met your gaze I felt guilty. Guilty to have kept such a secret from you, guilty to have made you believe I was a great man when, I deserve the worst. I love you both more than anything in this world, and I hope that one day, you will forgive me. I am not asking you to forgive what I did, but to forgive my weakness. Finally, you, the police, you heard my confession, do your job, arrest me.’’
And so they did. They tie his hands like he is some kind of criminal. But then again, he is. My mom runs at my dad, kisses him gently and, wiping the tears on my father’s face, she says:
“I love you Karl and I always will. No matter what you did or will do, please know that I will be waiting for you and loving you.”
Before leaving the room, my dad turns and looks at me. At that exact moment I realized that the man I always dreamed to become is maybe a murderer but, to me, he will always be a father. So I manage to smile and tell him:
“We had a great time together huh? I will never forget the moments we spent together and I hope there will be many more to come. I love you and you are still my hero, the person who, in order to save my life, sacrificed his.”
-Thank you, was the only thing he manages to response between his sobs.
***
The jury is going to say its final verdict on July 5th, which is in two days. My dad sentence will be declared in front of our family and the family of the victim that we did not see yet. My mother and I both know my dad will go to jail for life, but we also know that it is what he wants and we respect that. Living without him will be hard, as the past two months were, but with weekly visits in jail I think we will be okay. However, I do not want the family of the man my dad killed to think that he is a savage murderer. I want them to know that my dad had no choice and that, if he had not done that horrible thing, I would not be alive right now. So, I take their address that my dad gave us a week before and go there. A lady opens the door and asks me what I want. I tell her that I do not know them but that I have a story regarding her husband that she might want to listen to. Curious, she lets me in, calls her son and they both sit on a couch in front of the one on which I am sitting and stare at me with sad eyes that make me shiver. But, thinking about my dad, I start telling the story, without mentioning that the murderer is my dad and that I am the child who was sick. They do not interrupt me at any moment and, when I finish talking, I look at them and say:
“This man is the same one who put flowers and money on the tomb of your husband or father every week. This man is my father and because of him I am still alive today. I am deeply sorry but I thought you needed to know this story. Goodbye.”
And I leave, without looking back.
***
We are all sitting in the court room, when the judge asks if anyone has anything to say before he gives his judgement. Surprisingly, the widow stands up, looks at us and at my father and says:
“Two months ago, when we heard that the murderer of my husband had been found, a sentiment of joy surrounded our family. Then, a wish of revenge took us over. My son wanted to kill him and so did I. But we decided that going to jail for life was a better revenge than death and we still think that. However, two days ago, a young man who is now sitting here came to see us. He told us a sad story about a poor man who killed our husband because it was the only way for him to save his own son. He also told us that the same man is the one who has left us money for the past 24 years on my husband tomb to help us get out of the misery in which we were. Finally, he said that this man was actually his father. I have no idea why he came to see us but what I know is that he looked just like my own son. The same age, same colour of hair and same colour of eyes. And it made me realize that, 24 years ago, when my husband was still alive, if my son had been diagnosed with cancer, we would have been in the very same position as they were and, my husband would have done anything, I say anything to save him. So, I am not saying I do not want that man to go to jail. No, I want him to pay for what he did. However, I want him to know that our family forgives him and that if my husband is up there watching us, he probably forgives him too.”
At that moment, I see my dad smile. I have never seen him so peaceful in my life. He might spend his life in jail but, at least, he will be in peace.
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