Page 108 of The Lie Maker

“Want a beer?”

“Sure,” I said, making my way up the hallway and taking a seat at the kitchen table. Gord sat opposite me while Dad went to the fridge, brought out three cans of beer, and put them on the table.

I had my first good look at him. He was thinner than I remembered, and he’d lost that color in his cheeks that he’d regained after his health issues years back. He was gray, washed out, and he’d lost some hair.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well,” he said, glancing first at Gord and then back to me. “You want the short version or the long version?”

“The short, for now, I guess,” I said.

“After our meetup, I went back looking for him, but he was gone.”

“I went, too,” I said.

“I woke up,” Gord said. “I was pretty bad. I drove myself to the closest hospital. That’s where your dad found me.”

Dad nodded. “I hunted him down. Wanted to make sure I hadn’t killed the son of a bitch. Found out who he was, where he lived. They had him in the hospital for about a week.”

“It was the hit on the head that did it,” Gord said. “Bit of brain damage.” He grinned. “Not so’s you could really tell the difference. I’m sorry about coming after you. I was having a bad day. Had just lost my job. Months behind on payments for my truck. My girl had just dumped me. If it hadn’t been you it would have been someone else. Your dad, he kind of saved me.”

I turned to my father. “What did you do?”

“After they sent Gord home, I went to visit him. Told him it was me that put him down. That he’d attacked my son and he was lucky I hadn’t killed him.” Dad shrugged. “Damned if we didn’t kind of hit it off. Started coming down to take him to appointments with his neurologist. He wasn’t supposed to drive. He didn’t have a job, so I helped him out as best I could financially. When the trailer next to mine was available to rent, I persuaded him to leave his place and come here while he was on the mend.”

“I’m all better now,” Gord said, rolling his eyes and using a goofy voice that prompted laughs from Dad and me. “But I decided to stay.”

“That’s the short version,” Dad said.

I looked at my father and asked, as tentatively as I could, “What does Gord... know?”

Dad smiled. “Enough to understand, and not enough to get him into trouble.”

“Yeah,” Gord said. “Your dad’s got a past he hasn’t told me about. That’s fine with me. I know Cliff Barker’s not his real name, but he answers to it, so what the fuck do I care?”

“What brings you up here, son?” Dad asked.

“Have you... been away?”

“Was gone for a couple of days last week. Sometimes I get in the car and just drive. Went up the Maine coast, touring around, eating lobster. Usually put the seat back down and sleep in the car. I’m retired now and have what you might call a limited income.”

“I thought you’d been away for longer than that,” I said.

Dad’s brow furrowed. “Were you up here before looking for me?”

“No.” Something didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “Have you always lived here? I mean, since you left Mom and me?”

“No. At the very beginning, you know, I had to serve some prison time. A few months’ penance, under another name. When I got out, they placed me in Scottsdale. Didn’t care for it there. People are nice, it’s beautiful and all. But it’s not New England. Missed the trees, especially in the fall. So they let me come back, and I’ve bounced around some. Vermont, New Hampshire. Spent a year or two in Maine. You took a risk, you know.”

“A risk?”

“Coming here, looking for me.” Another sigh. “But I guess I get it. Why, if you’d made note of that plate, did it take you so long to check it out?”

“Something came up.”

“What would that be?”

I looked at Gord. I didn’t know how much to reveal. Gord got the message, pushed back his chair.

“I’ll be off,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

---