My Dad Had My Back!

      The summer after second grade a neighborhood kid told me about a new wondrous creature that I just had to see. No… it wasn’t the Loch ness monster, nor was it Bigfoot, instead they were the legendary Mexican jumping beans. The kid and his family who owned the beans were out of town, but my informant knew where these mythical beans were kept.

      Like spies, we snuck around to the back patio and to our pleasure the Mexican beans were in a coffee can situated in the shade.

      My partner in crime pulled them out of the can and put them on the hot patio. The hot concrete caused them to jump around endlessly. I was just so damned fascinated.  

      I thought, “How in the world did these beans jump around?”

      I did not see any moving parts, but I could feel something moving around inside.

      I was dying to know what was inside.

      Right then an overpowering compulsion came over me and on that day this urge led me to commit three sins. The kid, who brought me to the patio, because he also stole one bean and his theft inspired me to also follow this wayward path, fanned this compulsion. My first sin was the theft of one Mexican bean.

      (I conveniently reasoned that one bean was okay because there were several left).

      I took it home and played with it for hours. Eventually I had to break it open to see what was inside.

      I was disappointed to see that there was nothing but a single larva. The second sin was the murder of a helpless innocent creature. (Actually, I would only have been charged with involuntary larvae slaughter, the technical term is infant insecticide).

      Later in the day, the owners of the Mexican jumping beans came over to confront my parents.

      Evidently, the parents of my partner in crime discovered his theft and he was forced to give back the bean and to fess up on the entire crime. He felt that it was necessary to squeal on me. I guess he had never heard of the Omerta the Sicilian code of silence or manhood.

      His parents forced him to go over and return the bean to the rightful owners with an apology. Next on the agenda were four parents of both the kid who owned the beans and my partner in crime to come over our house.

      My parents were confronted by the angry mob for the crime I had committed.

      In my mind’s eye I had visions of the mob that had circled Dr. Frankenstein’s castle holding their lanterns and pitchforks all the while screaming for the blood of the monster. Allegations were made, and my parents confronted me on the spot and asked me if I was guilty of the crime.

      I was filled with terror and shame. I looked my parents in the eye and denied all guilt or knowledge of any such incident. My lies, my third sin, were enough for my parents.

      They stood firm against the mob, and emphatically declared, “Our son does not steal!”

      One of the other parents, not so trusting said, “He’s lying!”

      Both of my parents said, “We know he didn’t steal the bean because he said he didn’t.”

      “Our son would never lie, -- especially to us, because our son is honest.”

      Their total trust in me, which I obviously did not deserve, ripped my heart out. It felt as though a knife had plunged deep into my chest, and then memory fades…

      I cannot tell you how many times over the years I punished my self for those three sins and the misplaced trust that my parents had put in me. In my defense, to my best recollection I had never lied to them, until this incident. Basically I was shy, studious, gentle, polite, obedient, forthright, and honest. A regular Fredo Corleone if you will. I think it was from that damn evil sow.

      Years later, in my late forties, I felt the need to cleanse myself of this longstanding guilt. My Mother had just been admitted to an assisted living home because she was suffering from Alzheimer’s. During one of her lucid moments I confessed my guilt.

      She just laughed and gave me a hug, and said she forgave me.