8:28

“Let me tell you a story. A long, sad story of one man’s folly and another’s criminal stupidity…”

It began just before the war. As you know I met a wonderful woman and fell in love. And as it often happens she was soon with child. It was a disgrace of course, but the kind of disgrace that happened more often than not and there were ways of dealing with it to the satisfaction of all.

Well, of course, being who I was, who I still am really, I found myself dissatisfied with the standard solutions. I had not much changed you see, from that impetuous boy you met high above the ground soloing ago. I was determined to find a solution that ended with me, a beautiful bride and our lovely son — it was a boy as I eventually discovered — living out our lives in comfortable bliss, free of stigma, free of the consternation of a rapidly dissolving and increasing irrelevant class system.

I really thought it would be easy. After all it had been easy all my life. Escaping the ties of my family’s expectations had been my calling so’s to speak; it had been one my one true accomplishment to date. I had every expectation that I would win through the day. I had every expectation dammit.

So there I was, making plans, executing a delightfully complex set of negotiations and casting a shadow over everyone’s sight. I could see my triumph, I had inhaled the scent of victory as I arched out to take that fair morsel between my teeth.

And then — the war came. The marriage plans dissolved in a whirlwind of panic, the deals began to unravel, fear was everywhere, nothing was the same. I tried valiantly to hold the others to the bargains, to convince them that nothing substantial had changed. But that was when I learned the bitterest lesson that war has to teach: that the perceived value of any object or idea is as fleeting and delicate as a moment of silence. Suddenly my only value, the only value I could offer anyone was to fight. There was no question that I would be be bundled off to war to sacrifice what may be for the greater glory of god, my country and my oh-so-importunate family.

And God forgive me, I went. I went and abandoned my love and abandoned my child, giving them over to an uncaring and callous family’s care.

Oh my friend, I can not tell you how many times over the years I have regretted that decision. I should have stayed and fought my own war. I should have realized the import of my actions. No decision should be taken lightly, and that one would have repercussions beyond my wildest imaginings. It has not ended since that day, and I now realize it will not end for many years to come.

“But let me continue.”

For three years I fought on foreign soil and my only contact was through family letters. They told me of my son’s birth and his christening, of his first word, his first tooth and described to me his first steps. I took what joy and solace I could from those precious missives and tried to pretend that the lack of mention of his mother was solely because the family’s embarrassment.

But lied to myself. And they lied to me. And, when at long last I was allowed to return home, I found I had no home to return to. My love was long removed, my child not even a memory but for my sister how had been tasked with penning the dissembling notes and upon my discovering these pernicious truths, I no longer admitted to a family. I took myself away and began a search, that for many years bore no fruit but sorrow.

Albert stopped suddenly and his breathing became ragged.