7

   They say that writers write because they have no choice but to write. For whatever reason, their emotions would implode in an enormous shower of pain, joy, or whatever, if they didn't get it out. Which is why I finally decided to get this all down on paper. If I didn't, it likely would kill me. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it took this long.

   The summer went by quickly. Time tends to do that when you're in love. That's one of life's cruelest tricks. Love makes time go by faster, bringing you closer and closer to its inevitable end.

   Don't misunderstand me, though. It's worth it. Love is worth it. By the time the summer was almost half way over, I was growing tremendously close to four people: my grandfather, my grandmother, Katie, and Luke. These were four people who filled roles that I really didn't ever have filled in my life prior to that point. I never knew my father, so my grandfather filled that role a little. At least, the best he could. He was mainly just a male role model that I could look up to. My mother was always fairly unstable, so my grandmother filled the role of a stable, maternal, figure. Katie was  my first, and really my only, true love. The only person I ever gave my heart to. Luke became like the brother I never had. The best friend that I ever had. I shared everything with him. I shared my struggles, my fears, and my pains with him. But there was one more person I began to grow close to: Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones taught me a lot about what it meant to be a man, and what it meant to put the one you love first. He taught me lessons I never forgot, and not just because he could be incredibly terrifying and intimidating.

   That day, in the early part of July, was beautiful. It was hot, of course, but beautiful. The sky was a light shade of blue, and there was only a select number of clouds traveling about in the sky. I went to pick up Katie to hang out, as I did most mornings. She looked beautiful, as she always did. Her dark hair fell down past her shoulders, and her high-waited shorts and tank top proved to me that she could look like a model with hardly any effort at all. She slid in beside me, threw her arms around my knack, and she kissed me.

   "What was that for?" I asked with a smile. I certainly wasn't complaining, though.

   "For being amazing." She replied.

   I remember praying that this would never end, and being confident that I would marry this girl someday. Those were the moments that made me feel ten feet off the ground. As many times as I tried with a million other people, I never got that feeling again after her. I think that part of me didn't want that feeling with anyone else. I knew if I did, that would mean that what I felt for Katie wasn't real after all.

   "You look cute." She said, beaming.

   "Really? I'm not surprised you think so." I confessed.

   "Don't be dumb." She said, laughing. She punched me in the arm.

   "What was that for?" I asked, referring to the punch.

   "For being dumb. So for being you, actually." She said. We both laughed. I wish I could recall back to memory those shimmering, beautiful brown eyes. And that smile that would light up the room. It's faded from my mind. It's been so long.

   We drove, but we didn't really know where to. We just drove. It was what we wanted to do. We had everything in that small town. We had our futures, and were sure they were intertwined. The road was open. It was ours. We drove, and we drove. We didn't know where it would take us. We didn't care, though. We had each other. Before we knew it, we were in Skiatook, a little town about two hours off.

   "It's so pretty here." Katie said.

   "Eh, it's hard to compare." I said in reply.

   "To what?" She asked.

   "To the pretty girl here next to me." I said, smiling. She hit me.

   "That's for being cheesy." She said. But she kissed me. It was worth it.

   We drove around for a little while longer. We decided to play mini golf and see a movie together. The mini golf place wasn't much to look at. The parking lot was old, empty, and needed to be re-tarred. At the edge of the parking lot was a ticket stand. It was noisy because the course was just off the side of the road. The ticket stand was painted white, but chipping. It was obviously old. It's funny because that course is still in the same place today, and it still looks exactly the same. It's almost like it is trapped in time. Like one event had captured the course forever in its proper place and time. Kind of like me. I took Katie's hand, and we walked up to the stand. There was an older woman sitting behind the counter. She looked happy, content. She had wrinkles from years of smiling. Her thin white hair contrasted against her darkly tanned skin. She was a little on the heavier side. I felt like she belonged in a rocking chair on an old from porch rather than on a wooden stool behind an old counter. She seemed perfectly happy where she was, though.

   "Well, heeeeello!" She said. She dragged out the "e".

   "Hi there." Katie said, laughing and returning the smile. Katie was a people person. She loved people. It didn't matter if she had just met you or known you her whole life, she still treated you with the same warmth. I wish I could've been more like her in that sense.

   "Two please." I said.

   "Would you like nine holes or eighteen?" The woman asked.

   "Well I want enough time to really run up the score on you, so we should probably do eighteen, right Tyler?" Katie said. She winked at me.

   "Eighteen it is." I said. Both Katie and the woman at the stand laughed.

   We both got our clubs and headed to the ball rack. I got a bright red ball, and Katie got a red ball with white stripes.

   "Ready to lose?" I asked.

   "When have you ever known me to lose?" She asked.

   "Fair enough." I laughed. She did not back down. It was funny, and I liked it. She was so different, and I was in love with every part of her. I gazed at her, lost in her eyes. A smile crept to my lips. In the flash of a moment, I could see everything. I could see our futures, our lives together. I could see her walking down the isle toward me. I could see her in the beautiful white gown. I could see us holding each other, tears of joy streaming down our faces as she held that first pregnancy stick. I could see us bringing that first beautiful baby home, and every single beautiful baby after that. I could see her sound asleep, exhausted, while the baby cried, and I held it until it fell back asleep. I could see us, and our children, growing. And I could see me, in my old age, looking at her with the same look of adoration that I looked at her with then. This, of course, was always too much to explain to her. So I just told her she was beautiful. This happened a lot.

   "Are we gonna play, or what?" She asked me, confused. I snapped out of my daze.

   "Only if you promise not to cry when you lose." I said with a smile.

   We played. It was a pretty even match. In fact, we were tied going into the last hole. She beat me though. Not because I let her, she just really beat me. She was the only person in the world that I didn't mind losing to. Boy did she let me hear it though whenever she won.

   "I told you I'd beat you. Didn't I Tyler? Didn't I tell you? I told you. What'd I tell you, Tyler? I never lose. I told you I'd win. I never lose. Better get used to it, Tyler. I never lose. I mean -" I cut her off midsentence, landing a kiss on her lips.

   "What was that for?" She asked.

   "It was the only way I could get you to shut up." I said, laughing. She hit me. We kept driving around for a while, but soon it got dark.

   "Ya know, since it's dark, I could show you a place where we could, ya know... kiss." She told me, nervously. I laughed, but only to hide how nervous I was.

   "I wouldn't mind that." I said sheepishly.

   We started driving back to her house, but about five minutes away from it, she directed me to a little old back road. We drove on it for about five more minutes, then we took a slight left into a small wooded area.

   "How do you even know about this place?" I asked, her hand in mine.

   "A friend told me about it. Luke. I never though I'd use it, though." She confessed. We were both nervous. We were just a couple of kids.

   I looked into her eyes. She looked back into mine. There was love in her eyes. I know there must've been love in mine as well. We climbed into the backseat of my car. I took her hand, wrapping my other arm around her shoulder, with my hand resting on the small of her back. I pulled her in close to me. Both of us sat with baited breath. Our hearts heated as if through megaphones. I pulled her in closer, feeling her warm breath at the base of my neck. I ran my hand up the side of her arm. I leaned down and whispered in her ear:

   "I love you, Katie." I said softly.

   She lifted her eyes.

   "I love you too, Tyler." She replied. "Now kiss me."

   So I did. I kissed her. I kissed her long and slow. I ran my hands down her back and I held her. I let my right hand ride up her arm until it came to rest gently on the side of her face. I could feel her smiling beneath my lips. She pulled away, and she looked up at me with those big brown eyes.

   "Don't be scared." She said, guiding my hand to her chest.

   We kissed. Not out of lust or infatuation, but out of love. As time melted away, so did our thoughts, worries, pains, and clothes. I kissed her neck. She whispered my name. Then, a few minutes later:

   "We should stop before we get carried away." She said.

   "You're probably right." I said. Then, I did something society would deem as strange. I helped her get dressed. Before I even got myself dressed, I helped her.

   "You're sweet." She said. I just kissed her forehead.

   "You're kinda cool." I said with a wink.

   "You too." She said. "Just not as cool as me." She quickly added. I laughed. She was funny that way. It didn't matter what moment we were in, she was still her. She still acted pretty much the same. She was still Katie. There aren't that many people like that anymore.

   "Way to kill the moment." I joked. We both laughed.

   "If you're not careful, I might just kill you." She winked. We both laughed some more. I got dressed and we drove back toward her house. It was only ten o'clock, so it wasn't too late, much to my relief.

   "Tyler?" Katie asked, looking up at me with those eyes.

   "Yes?" I asked back.

   "Did you mean it?" She began. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

   "With all my heart, with all my soul, and with all that I am." I said.

   "Tyler?" She asked softly.

   "Yes?" I asked back.

   "Aren't you scared?" She asked genuinely.

   "Out of my mind." I confessed. "But that's how I know it's love." I kissed her forehead. A light when on in Katie's house. "You'd better get inside." I told her.

   "I know." She said. She opened the car door, then she stopped. She looked back at me. She put her hand on my chest for a good minute or so, just looking at me. We shared the blissful silence. She kissed me, then she was gone.

   As I drove home, I thought about my mom. I wondered what she would think of Katie. I wondered if she would like her. I was sure she would. They were a lot like each other. They both had fire in their souls. I wondered what made my dad leave my mom. I wondered what made him leave me. Was he scared? Was he angry? Or did he just not care? My mom was young when she had me. She was seventeen. He must've been young too. Would I ever leave Katie like that? Surely not. I wasn't a coward. That's not who I was. I certainly didn't claim to be above being scared or afraid, but I had never been a coward. This train of thought had sparked my curiosity. Who was my father? Did he have a reason to leave? Why had I never visited my grandparents before? Why did my mom never talk about anything? I wanted answers. I had gone nineteen years without them. I had made my decision. It was time for answers.

   "Welcome home." My grandfather said as I walked inside. He was sitting in his favorite recliner. My grandmother was sitting on the couch beside him.

   "How was your day?" She asked. They looked tired. They were both in their pajamas.

   "Um, it was good." I said.

   "What's up buddy?" My grandfather asked. "I can see those wheels turnin' in your head."

   "I have some questions. Some big questions." I said. His face lost a little color.

   "What do you want to know, honey?" My grandmother asked.

   "Who is my father? Do you know?" I asked after a period of silence and thought.

   "Tyler, this is a can of worms that you don't want to open." My grandfather said calmly.

   "I've thought about it a lot. It's time I get some answers." I told him.

   My grandfather stood up and walked toward me. He put his hands on my shoulders, and he looked me directly in the eye. For a good thirty seconds, nothing was said. It was as if he was trying to settle down an inner storm of thoughts.

   "Tyler, this is a very painful story. For all of us." He said.

   "I need to know." I repeated.

   "That's fine. But you need to understand that this is going to take a toll on all of us. We have to stick together. We're a family, you understand that, Tyler? We have to stick together." He said.

   "I understand." I assured him.

   "Donny maybe another time would be better." My grandmother butted in.

   "No. He has a right to know." My grandfather said. There was clearly some distress I was missing. My grandmother was silently crying, and my grandfather's face was turning red. That's when he turned to me, and he shattered my world: "Tyler, your mother was raped."

   I didn't hear him. Well, I heard him. But I didn't comprehend it. I didn't understand. It didn't make sense.

   "You were conceived out of rape." He repeated. My grandmother was sobbing. I felt numb. My vision blurred. There's always those stories about people who lose their sense of value after they find out they were an accident, or that their parents didn't want them. They always feel like they're not loved. But this was worse - this was rape. I mean, most people would've had me aborted. Not only was I an accident and a burden, but every time my mother saw me, she must have seen the face of her rapist. My grandfather's fists were clenched white. There were two tears streaming down his cheeks. I looked down. The room spun. I fell face forward into my grandfather.

   I opened my eyes and I was lying on the couch. My grandfather and grandmother were sitting next to me. I breathed in and coughed. It felt like I was breathing in glass. Like shards of glass were flooding into my lungs. I mustered the strength I had left in me, both mental and physical.

   "Why weren't you there for us?" I asked, tears streaming down my face. They were crying as well.

   "We wanted to be. We just couldn't be." My grandmother said.

   "Then explain why you couldn't be." I said, point blank. She looked at my grandfather.

   "It was twenty years ago." My grandfather began. "It was in January. It was a cold winter. Your mother was dating this boy. His name was Alex. Alex Ford. I never liked him. He was abrasive and aggressive. Your mother deserved better. She could've gone with any boy in our town. Every seventeen year old boy in Muskogee wanted to take her out. But she wanted Alex. I don't know why. Sure, he was handsome. Athletic. He looked a lot like you. Tall, and built. But he had these cloudy grey eyes. His hair was short. He was tan. But he wasn't a good person, Tyler. He was always looking for a fight. He always thought people were out to get him. I never once heard him admit that he was wrong about anything. It was always everyone else's fault. Well, apparently your mother started to open up her eyes and see this. It took her long enough. They dated for six months before she broke it off." He continued. I started to see where he was going with this. I was hanging on every word. "Well, Alex wasn't very happy when your mother broke it off." My grandfather paused. I could tell this was getting hard for him. "He couldn't let it go, Tyler. Well, it tore your mother up. She felt terrible, but she knew she did the right thing. I -" He was getting really choked up now, only speaking between breaths and tears. "I suggested she and a couple of her friends go into Tulsa for the weekend. Just to get away from everything. She agreed. She was excited. I got them a little hotel room. I always trusted your mother. She was such a good girl. Her friends were amazing as well. Jennifer and Ely were their names. Boy you shoulda seen Ely. She was an athlete, Tyler. She had this fire red hair. It matched the way she played perfectly. And Jennifer, boy could she sing. She still sings on the praise team at church. Not at our church, though. She moved a long time ago. Anyway, I've never heard a voice like that. She was a little bitty thing. She couldn't have been more than 5'1, but her voice, it was 6'8. They had been there for your mother through everything. They were like sisters. Well, apparently Alex heard about this little trip that they were going on. I'm not sure how. He was so angry. I think that he believed that your mother was moving on just fine, that what they had wasn't special. He was in so much pain, Tyler. So, he followed your mother and her friends to Tulsa that night. They, being Jennifer, Ely, and your mother, had a reservation to eat at a steakhouse down the street from the hotel. Your mother was always the last to get ready, which I'm sure you've noticed, so Jennifer and Ely went down to make sure that they didn't give away their table. Soon after they left, Alex knocked on the room door. I have no idea how he managed to figure out which room they were in, and which floor they were on. But he did. Anyway, your mother opened the door without looking through the peep-hole, assuming it was Ely or Jennifer. It wasn't. Alex stepped in, and your mother froze. He hit her. He began crying, yelling that he loved her. Your mother was so scared. Alex drug her to the bed. Well, about twenty minutes went by, and Ely and Jennifer began to worry. They left their table and went back to the room to check on your mother. They opened the door and found your mother, naked and crying on the bed. Her clothes were torn on the floor, and her hands tied to the headboard with pillow cases. Alex was dressing himself, crying as well, and mumbling to himself. Jennifer screamed, and Ely lunged toward Alex. Alex looked up and moved just in time. Ely could've taken him down if she had gotten the chance. Your mother was screaming for them to leave. By the time Jennifer and Ely realized why, it was too late. Alex grabbed his father's old Smith & Wesson hand gun off the dresser. He put two rounds in Ely's chest. He killed her. Your mother screamed. So did Jennifer. People ran out of their rooms in a panic upon hearing the shots, and ran toward the stairs. Alex dropped the gun and he dashed out of the room. Jennifer ran to Ely's lifeless body on the carpeted floor. Blood soaked deep into it like a sponge. Your mother cried, still bound to the headboard. The police arrived quickly. Your grandmother and I will never forget the phone call that we got. We cried. We wept. I was so angry." He said.

   My heart pounded. How was I supposed to take all this in? Something broke deep inside of me. So many things ran through my mind. Voices screamed in my head as I realized that I was born in blood, murder, rape, and evil. How was I supposed to take all this in?

   "Okay" I choked out in a whisper. "Is that why we've never visited? Is that why you abandoned us?" I asked through heavy tears.

   My grandfather looked to my grandmother. She nodded to him.

   "Partially." He said quietly.

   "Partially?" I asked.

   "Like I said, I was so angry." He started again. "I was so angry out of my mind. A week went by and the police still hadn't found Alex. The anger was eating me alive. I didn't know why they hadn't found him yet. They should have. The problem was that the case belonged to the Tulsa Police Department because the crime was committed there, but Alex immediately fled to Muskogee. Like I said, a week went by, and I was driving to Ely's grave. I wasn't the only one there, though. For whatever reason, Alex was there. I think he was sorry. I think he was trying to tell Ely he was sorry. I'll never know, though, because when I saw him, something deep inside me took over, something primitive. I jumped out of my truck with my revolver. I shot Alex two times in the chest, killing him instantly. Then, I shot him two more times for Ely. After that, I shot him once more for your mother and once more for Jennifer. I would've shot him more, but my revolver was empty. At the end of it all, I sat on Ely's grave, and I waited for the police to show up. I got ten years. I could've gotten life, but the judge considered it a crime of passion." He finished.

   "You?" You killed my father?" I asked. His face was hard with anger, yet soft was compassion. It was torn between two worlds.

   "I killed your father." He said quietly.

   I didn't know what to feel. My father was a rapist and a murderer, but he was still my father. He could've changed. He could've repented. But he never got the chance.

   "Why?" I asked. "I don't know a lot about Christianity, but from what you've told me, isn't it supposed to be about grace and forgiveness?" I asked.

   "Tyler, you have to understand this. You are right. I did not do the right thing. I did a terrible thing. I did not represent Christ the way that I should have. But you must understand: I am not Christ. I am a sinner. I did the wrong thing. I sinned. But that doesn't mean that Christianity is not about love, grace, forgiveness, and redemption. It just means that I wasn't." He explained.

   "You took my daddy from me." I said slowly, more to clarify my understanding than his.

   Both my grandfather and grandmother were sobbing.

   "I'm so sorry." My grandfather choked out. How was I supposed to take all this in? What had I done to deserve this?

   I had always dreamed of learning about my father, about who he was. I dreamed of meeting him, of throwing my arms around his neck. I don't know what I thought would happen. Maybe I thought he'd come back. Maybe I had this movie seen expectation, where I subconsciously thought he'd show up one day, crying into my shoulder, apologizing, telling me how he should've been there. I don't know. These were all unrealistic dreams and stupid hopes. He wasn't coming back. I'd never meet him. I'd never hug him. I'd never talk to him. I'd never know him, except as a rapist and a murderer. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe I was better off never knowing him. And on top of this, how was I supposed to come terms with the fact that I wasn't wanted. I was just a product of a horrible evil. I must have caused my mother so much horrible pain and agony. Every time she sees me, she must think about that night. I was, at my very core, a child of pain and suffering, and horrible evil. How could I really be anything good? How was I supposed to work through these things? Here I was, thinking that I was this guy who would bring all this joy to the girl I loved. Right then, though, it seemed like I couldn't do anything in life except continue to be a product and tool of suffering.

   For the next three weeks I isolated myself. I didn't leave my room, except for the restroom. Not once. I didn't say a single word the whole time, and I lost twenty pounds. Katie called me every other day, but I never returned her calls. For those three weeks, I was in hell. I'm convinced that God allowed demons to come and torment my soul. I was in so much pain. All I could feel was the pain. I could always feel these vice like grips on my throat, these freezing cold hands. I couldn't snap out of it. I was broken. I believe I would've stayed broken, if not for what happened next.