Chapter 11 - The Wings Had Never Been The Secret Mason Thought They Were
The review officer eventually released the wings back to my father.
The flask went back to Alan after photographs and statements were complete.
Mason had believed the object would prove something ugly about a Hayes.
Instead it proved mostly that three men had spent sixteen years assigning meaning to the same piece of metal.
Alan invited Dad to his office.
Dad brought the wings.
I didn't go.
That was intentional.
Later, Alan told me what happened only because I asked.
Dad placed the wings on his desk.
“You should’ve opened the flask.”
Alan looked at him.
“You should’ve asked for them.”
Dad almost smiled.
“Great. We’ve grown.”
Alan did not return the wings immediately.
He asked:
“Why did you really leave them?”
Dad looked at him.
“I told you.”
“No. You said Sarah.”
“That was enough.”
Alan waited.
Dad eventually sat.
“My first day back, I put them on.”
That was new.
“He had tried?”
Yes.
He stood in front of a mirror in the locker room.
Saw the silver set his wife had pinned on him.
Could not breathe properly.
Took them off.
Left.
“Why not throw them away?” Alan asked.
Dad looked offended.
“She touched them.”
Alan nodded.
“So you gave them to me.”
“I left them near you.”
“Important distinction?”
“To me.”
Alan laughed.
Then Dad continued.
“I think I wanted someone else to decide whether I was allowed to quit.”
Alan stopped.
“What?”
“I left them where you would find them.”
That changed the story again.
Dad had always described it as an accidental abandonment.
Maybe it hadn't been.
He knew Alan would pick them up.
He knew Alan would come after him.
“What did you want me to say?” Alan asked.
Dad looked down.
“Probably that I wasn't done.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I resented you.”
Alan stared.
“For doing what you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“Evan.”
“I know.”
Dad rubbed his face.
“I wanted you to tell me to stay. Then I hated needing you to.”
Alan leaned back.
Sixteen years of conflict had begun not simply because Alan protected him.
Because Evan had recruited Alan into a decision he could not bear to make alone.
That did not excuse Alan’s later grievance.
It did make the origin less noble.
Dad asked:
“Why did you hide them instead of handing them back?”
Alan answered:
“Because I liked that you trusted me with them.”
Both men apparently had a talent for turning friendship into private tests.
Neither said that aloud.
They didn't need to.
Alan opened the flask’s false bottom.
Empty now.
He looked inside for several seconds.
Then handed the flask to Dad.
Dad frowned.
“Yours.”
Alan shook his head.
“No.”
“You kept it sixteen years.”
“Exactly.”
Dad looked at him.
“Where should it go?”
Alan almost laughed.
“Trash?”
Dad did laugh.
They didn't throw it away.
They also didn't decide.
May you like
The flask sat between them.
For once, not every object required a symbolic conclusion.
