“Chase, you look so nice!” Linda marveled.
“Well it is a wedding we’re going to. And look at you! You’re beautiful!”
“All I really care about is staying warm.”
“Good luck!”
“Thanks a lot.”
Danny Eister scheduled his wedding for four o’clock. Known as the Protestant kid down the block from the Macklins, he was two years older than Chase and just a year younger than Frank. They played together growing up but lost contact after high school when Frank entered college and Chase immersed himself in life under Murphy. Frank reconnected several years later, he and Allie attending both of Danny’s previous weddings. He assured everyone that this one would be his last.
On the way, Chase peeked at Linda. “You know what, babe? I just realized I’ve never been to a wedding like this before, just Catholic ones. I hope nothing’s weird.”
“At a wedding?” she said with a giggle. “What do you think they might do there?”
“Well you don’t have to laugh at me! I don’t know. It won’t be the same, no priest or anything.
“As if you really care about that type of thing. Come on. Let’s just have a good time.”
When they entered the church parking lot, Chase noticed how small and nondescript the building appeared; it was nothing like the ornate Catholic churches. He couldn’t figure out why someone would choose such a place for a wedding. Nothing much to it. Finding a space close to where Frank parked, he went around to open Linda’s door.
“Chase, it’s freezing!” She huddled next to him, teeth chattering. “I just, just can’t get used to this weather.”
He laughed loudly. “I agree, but that’s life on the East Coast! It’s not all that bad, but hey, you should be quite warm underneath all those layers!”
“Yeah, sure.”
The church’s interior surprised him: dark wooden pews with the sun peeking through stained-glass windows on the left side of the building. The carefully maintained wood floors were accented with rich, golden-brown carpet. At the altar, set off with an ornate, stained-wood railing, the carpet climbed up a step onto the stage before disappearing behind a pure white curtain with a golden sash. This place was probably built in the 1940s, Chase mused. Though much different from the church his family rarely attended, it felt comfortable in a way.
A man in a tuxedo escorted Chase and Linda to the third row on the right, and Frank motioned for them to sit next to him and Allie. The two were no sooner seated when Danny and the minister headed down the aisle toward the front. Frank leaned over Allie and whispered. “Chase, you’re late! You almost missed it!”
“Yeah, I know,” he whispered back. “Linda and I were—oh man, don’t look behind you. On the other—Frank, don’t look! Murphy is on the other side of the aisle. I can’t believe it.”
Frank’s brow furrowed. “Murphy? What in world is he doing here? Are you sure?” Frank sat back and slowly turned to look out of the corner of his eye. He saw enough to verify that Chase was right.
Pleased that the wedding lasted only about twenty minutes, Chase took Linda’s hand after the ceremony and followed the group out of the church. Murphy limped beyond the five or six people in front of them. Walking down the steps to the parking lot, Chase called out, “Hey! Murphy!”
“Hey what?” Murphy spun around as he spoke. “Oh, Mack, it’s you. Saw ya inside. Figured I’d see ya at the reception. How ya doin’, kid?”
“Fine. This is my wife, Linda.”
“Nice to meet ya.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her gloved hand. “Chase has told me so much about you.”
Murphy let out a guffaw. “That can’t be good!”
“No, it is! Especially your generosity with the house.”
“Naw, that was no big deal. Didn’t like it no more. Too cold in there. My old bones prefer the Florida heat—speakin’ of which, I need to get outta here. See ya at the reception.” He turned and stepped into his car without another word.
Most of the guests were already seated at the veterans hall when Chase and Linda arrived. They found Frank and Allie at a table by themselves. Linda joined them while Chase headed over to the drink table where Murphy stood by himself.
“So what brings you here, Murphy?”
“Oh, I’m an old friend of the bride’s parents. Nice folks. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“How’ve you been?”
“Not too good, Mack. Gettin’ old, ya know.”
“I noticed something’s wrong with your leg. What happened?”
“What happened? Nothin’! Just gettin’ old,” he repeated.
“Well I’m glad you’re here. I’ve wanted to talk with you about all the things I’ve been through over the years, particularly this year, but I didn’t think it’d ever happen. Would you like to grab a table?”
“Sure. Lemme grab another drink first.”
Chase spied a place where they could be alone. He began his story back in 1987, recounting how he flew out to California to start a new life. He told Murphy about finding work, about slipping up the day he smoked pot, about his first marriage, and about meeting and marrying Linda. Murphy seemed genuinely interested, peppering him with questions. Chase felt he might be ready to hear about the spider web. He observed Murphy’s intensity increase as he shared the story.
“A huge web, ya say?”
“Yeah, with me in it.”
“Interesting.”
Chase told of hearing his own voice speaking to him and asked Murphy what he thought about that.
Murphy took a long swig from his glass, shaking his head. “Don’t have a clue, Mack. Sounds a bit crazy to me.”
“Me too, but my life has never been the same since that day.”
“Good for you,” Murphy responded with sudden indifference.
Chase pretended he didn’t notice and pressed forward, recounting the exposure of the lies about himself and how he visited his father’s grave.
“Ya never did like your dad.”
“Oh, I know. But everything’s different now.”
“Okay, fine. So why ya tellin’ me all a this?”
“Well, it’s just that I think that, um, we all struggle with lies about ourselves and others. But the thing is, I’ve found out that a person doesn’t have to continue down that road. There’s real freedom to be discovered, freedom from yourself and from who you’ve always thought you were.”
“So you’re sayin’ I got some lies!” Murphy snapped. “You’re tryin’ to change an old man? Is that what you’re doin’?”
Chase pulled back defensively. He envisioned Aunt Betty talking to him about God. Had he come full circle and begun pushing his own route to deliverance upon others?
“No, not at all, Murphy. I’m sorry if I came across that way. I just wanted you to hear what I’ve been through. You can take it or leave it. No big deal.”
“Well it’s obviously a big deal ta you! Anyhow, thanks a lot for tellin’ me. How are your kids?”
“Great! They love it here, especially the snow.”
“They like the house?”
“Yeah, they really do.”
“Good. Well I’m gonna get another drink. Ya better get back to your wife.”
“Okay, Murphy. Take care of yourself.”
“Always do.”
“How did that go?” Linda asked as Chase slumped down by the three of them.
“Okay, I guess. I just shared with him what’s happened with me over the years.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“You seem a bit, I don’t know, unsettled.”
“Well, he is a rather exhausting man to communicate with.”
“How’s that?”
“I’m too tired to tell you!” Chase answered with a smirk.
Chase had a little too much to drink at the reception, and after putting the children to bed that night, he immediately fell asleep. He dreamed he was strolling down a sidewalk with some old friends, guys he recognized from his past, laughing at a few crude jokes. A man wearing a red bandana walked up to them, his tattered clothes and foul odor indicating a life on the streets. He struck up a conversation, most of it senseless chatter. Suddenly the man pulled out a knife. Chase’s friends quickly deserted him. The man then lunged at Chase, stabbing him in the side. Blood spurted out, and the man attacked him again. Chase swung back, fists desperately pounding the air. He hurried to a nearby car, the man in pursuit. Chase climbed inside, bloodying the steering wheel as he sped away.
Chase found himself on futuristic-looking roads, similar to those in a video game, lights and colors streaming all around him as he pushed harder on the accelerator. When he saw police cars in pursuit with sirens blaring, Chase made a sharp turn into a tunnel. It was barricaded. He slammed on the breaks, jumped out, and spied a door in the tunnel that led to a stairway. Chase stopped cold when he saw the cops climbing the stairs toward him. Their faces were disfigured, and they had the bulbous eyes of aliens. Another door appeared in the stairwell. He opened it and entered but didn’t close it. One of the aliens looked in and gave him an impish grin before shutting the door. Chase heard it lock.
He stood outside on a balcony, alone and with no way of escape. Chase became aware he was having a nightmare from which he needed to awake. Figuring a dangerous jump would surely rouse him, he climbed upon the balcony railing but hesitated for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing through the darkness. With no further thought, he jumped backward. The fall and his accompanying screams startled him. He awoke and found himself in a bed, familiar yet unfamiliar.
Chase rubbed his eyes and exited the room, recognizing that he was merely in another dream. He stood in the middle of a cocktail party in someone’s living room. Everyone there was extremely friendly and talkative. A woman walked over and offered to show him around. He asked her how he could get back home. Chase abruptly awoke, this time in his own bed next to his wife. He lay there for a moment, forehead perspiring, and then checked to see if his screaming had disturbed Linda. Her heavy breathing provided the answer.
The following morning, he related his dream over coffee while the children watched cartoons.
Linda fingered her curls, frowning. “So you had a dream within a dream?”
“Yeah. Ever heard of such a thing?”
“No, never. I wonder what it means.”
“All I can think of is that the dream represents the decision I made when I first left New York, at least the first part when my friends deserted me and I was stabbed and then chased. Maybe jumping into another dream has to do with going west in my attempt to discover a new direction.”
“Well that makes sense, a dream about your life.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what I’m thinking.”
“But you did say you asked the woman how to get home.”
“Right, and perhaps that home represents finding the real me.”
“That’s nice,” Linda said with a smile. “Welcome home then!”
“Yeah, good thought.”