Chapter 2: Not Here
Marcus couldn't remember sitting down.
One second, Arthur's hand was wrapped around his wrist.
The next, the entire graduation hall seemed to be holding its breath.
The envelope remained between them.
Sealed.
Untouched.
“What is this?”” Marcus asked.
Arthur looked at the floor.
“Please.””
“That’s not an answer.””
“Marcus, please.””
The Dean stepped closer.
“Arthur, you knew this day would come.””
Arthur looked at him sharply.
“I didn't know he'd be ashamed of me.””
The words landed like a slap.
Marcus flinched.
“Dad…”
Arthur pulled his hand away.
Marcus stared at him.
“I was embarrassed by the uniform,” Marcus said.
“Not you.””
Arthur gave a bitter little laugh.
“Sometimes there isn't much difference.””
The Dean cleared his throat.
“Marcus, I think you deserve to know.””
Arthur turned toward him.
“Not in front of everyone.””
The Dean nodded slowly.
“You're right.””
He turned toward the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated. There has been a private matter concerning one of our graduating students.””
The crowd began murmuring.
Marcus barely noticed.
He couldn't stop looking at the envelope.
There was no university logo on it.
No name.
Just his full name written across the front in black ink.
Marcus Williams.
His stomach tightened.
“Who wrote that?”” he asked.
Arthur said nothing.
“Dad.””
Nothing.
“Who wrote it?””
The Dean answered.
“Your father.””
Marcus looked at Arthur.
“You wrote this?””
Arthur nodded once.
“When?””
“A long time ago.””
“How long?””
Arthur's eyes glistened.
“Twenty-four years.””
Marcus stopped breathing for a second.
He was twenty-four.
“You wrote this before I was born?””
Arthur looked at him.
“Before you were old enough to understand.””
Marcus turned to the Dean.
“What does that mean?””
The Dean's expression softened.
“Your father asked the university to keep something in its records until the day you graduated.””
Marcus looked at Arthur.
“What did you put in my records?””
Arthur rubbed his hands together, the same nervous gesture Marcus remembered from childhood.
“Something I didn't want you carrying while you were growing up.””
Marcus shook his head.
“That doesn't make any sense.””
“It will.””
“When?””
Arthur looked toward the doors.
“Not here.””
Marcus almost laughed.
“You've said that twice.””
“Because I mean it.””
The Dean stepped between them.
“Arthur, perhaps you should let him open it.””
Arthur's face hardened.
“No.””
Marcus stared.
“No?””
Arthur's voice dropped.
“I don't want you learning the truth because a room full of strangers is watching.””
Marcus felt anger rising.
“You don't get to decide that anymore.””
Arthur looked wounded.
“You're right.””
He reached toward the envelope.
Marcus pulled it back.
“No.””
Arthur stopped.
Marcus held it tightly.
“You've hidden something from me for twenty-four years.””
Arthur whispered, “I was protecting you.””
“From what?””
Arthur looked at him.
“From me.””
Marcus frowned.
The answer made no sense.
A camera flashed somewhere in the audience.
Arthur glanced toward it.
Then toward the rows of families.
His shoulders seemed to shrink.
Marcus suddenly remembered being seven years old.
He remembered asking why other children had fathers who came to school in suits.
Arthur had laughed and said, “Because suits don't make a father.””
Marcus had believed him.
At thirteen, Arthur had missed a parent-teacher conference because of work.
At sixteen, he'd missed Marcus's basketball championship.
At nineteen, he'd worked a double shift the night Marcus received his college acceptance.
Marcus had always thought the story was simple.
His father was poor.
His father worked too much.
His father sacrificed.
That was it.
Wasn't it?
Marcus looked at the envelope again.
“What did you do?””
Arthur's eyes widened.
“What?””
“What are you hiding?””
Arthur opened his mouth.
The Dean interrupted.
“Arthur.””
Arthur looked at him.
The Dean's voice was quiet.
“Tell him.””
Arthur shook his head.
“Not here.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Then where?””
Arthur looked toward the empty corridor beyond the graduation hall.
“Outside.””
Marcus followed his gaze.
Before either of them could move, the Dean reached for the microphone again.
“There is one more thing.””
Arthur closed his eyes.
Marcus turned.
The Dean looked toward the audience.
“Before this ceremony began, I received a call from a woman asking whether Marcus Williams had received his envelope.””
Arthur's eyes snapped open.
Marcus went still.
“A woman?”” he repeated.
The Dean nodded.
“She said she had been waiting twenty-four years.””
Marcus stared at his father.
Arthur looked terrified.
“Who was she?””
The Dean looked at Arthur.
Then back at Marcus.
“She told me her name.””
Arthur whispered one word.
“Don't.””
The Dean hesitated.
Marcus's voice cracked.
“Tell me.””
The Dean finally said it.
“Her name was Evelyn.””
Arthur's face went pale.
Marcus looked at him.
“Dad…”
Arthur backed away.
The envelope slipped slightly from Marcus's fingers.
And then the graduation hall doors opened.
A woman's voice came from the corridor.
May you like
“Arthur?””
Marcus turned.
