The Ballad of James McKenna

Day Sixteen: Love the Way You Lie

Day Sixteen
         Love the Way You Lie
Word Count: 1216

Jimmy doesn't lie. No, this isn't quite correct.

Jimmy has lied precisely once in his life. And he got caught.

It wasn't a large lie, as far as lies go, not really. But it was bad enough, and he felt so ashamed of it that he'd never done it again. It happened when he was twelve, at home in Cincinnati, when Father was alive and healthy and the nation hadn't ripped itself apart over the sanctity of owning another human being (and don't you let anyone tell you the Civil War wasn't over the right of the South to keep its slaves and the North's right to tell them 'no'.) Everything was still good, and Jimmy had no notion that life would not continue precisely as it always had.

It was also Christmas.

Jimmy knew his father would be getting him a mechanical kit. Owain had promised the whole year that twelve was the proper age for a boy to be getting around to learning a trade, and since Jimmy had shown himself to be a more than capable mechanicler, Father had decided it was only right that it be machines he got to learning. The knowing of it didn't lessen his excitement at all. In fact, it seemed only to goad his anticipation, the twitching of his fingers over the gears and cogs at his father's workstation. Father would teach him and he would become the best. How not, when Owain was everything that was right and good?

Mother was roasting chestnuts when Jimmy slipped into the house, rosy-cheeked and covered in snow, his stomach grumbling most insistently. "Mama, may I have some?"

"No, deary. These are for the Stein family, down the way. Just lost the baby to cholera and now the boys are sick. We're giving them the Christmas feast this year." Jimmy frowned, crossing his arms. "Now, now, Jimmy. They are in need, and we have plenty to give. What would Christ have us do, darling? It is our duty to help our fellow man."

Jimmy nodded, still frowning, but turned away and sat at his little workman's table, tinkering with his tools and trying to ignore the tantalizing smell of chestnuts wafting toward him from the fire. Eventually, Mother bustled out of the room, leaving Jimmy alone with a bowl of temptation, covered with naught but cheesecloth to dampen their heavenly aroma. Jimmy's stomach grumbled ferociously, and he began to feel as though he might be sick if he did not eat (which was an odd feeling, indeed, as there was nothing for him to be sick with as yet). He wanted so badly to turn and to take a chestnut or two, but Mother's admonition danced through his thoughts, disapproving and warning all at once.

He understood giving. He understood everything his mother said, and wanted to make her happy. Jimmy believed quite strongly in Jesus, and knew what rewards awaited one who lived to His teachings. The Fathers at the local diocese had told him so every Sunday for many a year now, so he knew it as well as he knew his letters or his calculations. But most of all, he wanted to make Mother happy. And do not disappoint Father. He never liked disappointing Father.

But he was so hungry, and the chestnuts smelled divine. He turned and stared at them for some time before reaching out and slipping one hand beneath the cloth.

"Jimmy! Where have the all the chestnuts gone?"

Jimmy turned in his seat. "I don't know, Mother. I was working on my mechanical dog, I promise!"

Mother was a smart lady. She knew right away that he was lying. Maybe it was how ferociously he had denied his guilt. Maybe it was the crumbs and bits of shells that surrounded his wispy boy-mustache and covered his entire front. But somehow she knew he was lying.

"James Conall McKenna! I am disappointed in you." Jimmy looked down at his lap, unable to bear the sting of Mother's reproach. "Oh, Jimmy. It is worse that you lied than that you took the chestnuts. I can make more of the chestnuts, but lying is a grave sin and a stain upon your character. Lying perverts your soul. How can you hope to be like your Father if you lie?"

Owain walked into the room then. "What's the boy done?"

"He's eaten the chestnuts I have roasted for the Steins. And worse, he has lied about it." Mother pulled her scarf off from around her shoulders and her hat from her head. "I shall have to make more now."

"Jimmy." Owain knelt next to his son, green eyes grave. "What you have done is very, very bad. Not only have you stolen something from someone less fortunate than you, but you have lied about it to save yourself. That is two stains against your soul. And two stains you will have to lay out before your Confessor. Two sins you must now work off in order to get back into God's good graces. Two good deeds you must now do to bring yourself back into balance. And how do you think the Steins are feeling now? They have just lost their daughter and their sons look ready to go. You have stolen a piece of happiness from them today, all for your own gain. How does that make you feel?"

Tears swam in Jimmy's eyes, but he made sure to stare at his lap so Father didn't see it. Men shouldn't cry. Owain never cried. "Bad," he choked out, voice breaking just slightly. He'd just been so hungry! "I...I was just so hungry."

"That is never an excuse to do the wrong thing, Jimmy. There is bread in the larder and cheese in the cellar. You might have gotten yourself some of that. Instead, you have forced your mother to do all of her work all over again. A little work on your own part is never a bad thing, Jimmy. We must always put others before ourselves. It is what the Lord would have us do. And do you want the Lord to frown upon you?"

Jimmy shook his head, frightened that the Christ might look upon him with disfavor. "N-no! I want to go to Heaven, sir."

"Then what must we never do again?"

Jimmy gulped. "We must never steal and we must never lie."

"And what must we endeavor to do from now on?"

"To bring balance to ourselves and the world, and to put others before ourselves."

Owain smiled then and chucked his son under the chin. "That's a good boy. Now, let me see what you've been working on. We'll have to get you a set of proper tools now that you're of an age to learn a trade." He stood and, towering over his son as a benevolent Angel, looked over Jimmy's mechanical dog. "This is quite good, Jimmy. You'll be quite a good mechanicler with a little training. See, son? The Lord gives us many gifts. It is our duty to use them for good. But we can never do that if we lie. Remember that."

"I will remember, sir. And I will never lie again."

"That is good. You will be a good man, boy. A very good man."