Betrayal
On a crisp Saturday morning just after his ninth birthday his father told him that he would be needed to ‘help the old man’. His father always referred to himself that way. Janos knew not to protest although he would miss baseball practice.
In the truck neither spoke. At the lumberyard they quietly stacked two by fours on to the truck bed and walked toward the office. His father broke the silence.
“When we get into the office they will ask how many two by fours did we load. I will ask you to go back to the truck and count them. Come back to the office and when I ask… say 12. Got it?”
It went the way his father predicted. The boy in somewhat of a daze returned to the office and leaned against the counter for support. Although he counted 20 two by fours, Janos somehow managed to mumble the word twelve.
On the walk back to the truck Janos’ father issued his next assignment.
“ Walk behind me. I will step on a piece of flagstone. Pick it up and put it in the back of the truck.”
Pulling away from the lumberyard his father glanced at the boy.
“What’s the matter?”
Janos fixed his eyes on the dash. “Nothing” he said.
The sound of it seemed to come from a long way off.
