21 Sins: Chapter 2
After speaking to Father O’Donovan last night, Eric Snyder spent all of the next day making a list of every bad thing he needed to atone for. The worst sins of all, as his priest instructed. He taped a handwritten “Do not disturb” sign to his door and locked it. Only two people lived in his home, himself and his mother. His brother and sister moved years ago and didn’t want anything to do with him. Finally, after years of having to deal with the problems and bad decisions Eric would bring home.
His mother knocks on the door, “Is everything, okay?” She asks because her son’s actions seem strange to her. She did not know about Eric almost hitting someone with his car or him going to see Father O’Donovan for confession. In her mind, it was grief from the recent passing of his father or sleeping off a hangover.
“I’m fine. Really tired. Just sleeping-inn. I’ll come out later,” Eric responds in a clear tone of voice. Her son sleeping-inn was nothing new. However, the ‘Do not disturb’ was strange. She wasn’t sure if this different behaviour was cause for concern. She thought about the sound of his voice. It did not sound sad, tired or hungover. It sounded normal, as if he had been awake for some time. Could Eric be doing something other than sleeping? Perhaps something he wanted to keep secret, she started to wonder. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” his mom responds. Deciding to let events play out and not bothering to test the door.
“Thanks, mom. I will,” Eric answers. His mother is a lovely woman, but Eric needed privacy and was not in the mood to explain anything. He needed complete silence to look deep within himself. The first five on the list were simple enough to remember. From that point, things became difficult as all the awful things he had done came rushing back. As the memories started coming back, he began to wonder why he did such horrible things. The guilt set in shortly after, and he put down the pen. He felt as though he was swimming in an ocean of sadness.
However, as painful as it was, he kept adding to the list one at a time. Writing down the worst of his sins as Father O’Donovan instructed. He wanted so desperately to turn his life around. His mother walks by his door several times throughout the day. She heard him thinking aloud on two occasions. Although she couldn’t make out what he was saying through the door. On two separate occasions, she heard Eric pacing around his room once and whimpering. Each time she wanted to go inside but was then confronted with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign written in big red letters using a marker, and she would respect his wishes. “He needs to be alone,” she thought.
By the late afternoon, Eric came up with twenty-one sins. Completed the list at twenty-one, unable to think of another sin. Confronted by the list, he wondered what he might have forgotten. Trying as he might, Eric drew a blank after having spent the day emptying out his memory bank, finally leaving his room to cook himself something to eat, having worked himself an appetite after not eating for the day. In the kitchen, his mother left a note on the table: ‘I’ve gone to visit your sister. I’ll be back late tonight. Help yourself to the food I saved in the fridge. Love Mom’. Written in her beautiful handwriting. Eric fixes himself a plate of chicken, seasoned rice, and mixed vegetables and runs it through the microwave. Eric wanted to start on his list right away. However, he needed to get his house in order before he could start. Recently fired from his job at the hardware store for tardiness, he no longer had any work obligations.
Eric knew he could not start on his list tomorrow. Tomorrow was an important day. The lawyer was coming by to read his father’s will. It was something he had kept secret even from his wife and kids. Eric was curious but did not want to think much into it. Tomorrow his siblings would be coming over, and he knew they would not be happy to see him. Not that those feelings were not justified.
The next day.
Eric wanted to present to his siblings and mother an image of a better version of himself. So that morning, Eric cleanly shaved, combed his straight brown hair neatly to the side and dressed semi-formally in a golf shirt and dress pants. He wanted to show them he could be a better person. He woke up early that morning and picked up some donuts, trying his best to remember everyone’s favourite. Then prepared breakfast for himself and his family. Prepared coffee, pancakes, and scrambled eggs. When his mother finally made her way downstairs, she saw the table set and all the food, plates and cutlery neatly set on the table. She is presently surprised and seeing Eric cleaned up, compared to his normal rough, scruff look, warms her heart.
“What made you decide to make breakfast?” his mother asked in a polite tone. “Oh, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do,” Eric answered dismissively. It was not time to tell her about his list or his mission to better himself. That would need to wait for now. Until he had a few items crossed off his list to show he was serious. With his reputation, talk is cheap. If he told them, they would be only words with no past actions to back them.
However, his mother could tell her son was up to something. She could hear it in his voice. It would be impossible for her to imagine what it could be. She decided to remain silent. She knew she would know when the time was right. She took a seat at the table. Eric immediately made her a plate and placed it gently in front of her. She smiles, thanks Eric and begins eating. Eric dreads asking, but he needs to know. He took a seat next to her with a plate of his own.
“What time are Donna and James coming by?”
His mother finished chewing and then answered. “I told them to be here for 11:30 am at the latest. The lawyer will be here at 1 pm,” she replied.
Eric knew his siblings would not be happy to see him. Eric was not on speaking terms with either of them, which is why both his siblings were on his list. Eric knows he could not atone for all the pain he may have caused them over the years. Following the priest’s advice, he picked the worst things he had ever done. It was too soon to tell anyone about his mission. His mother knew Eric was not on good terms with his siblings but did not know the whole story. She thought over time, cooler heads would prevail. The doorbell rings. His mother puts down her cutlery and is about to go answer. However, Eric leaps to his feet like a rocket. “Don’t worry, keep eating. I will answer the door,” Eric insists.
“Alright,” his mother responds once again that day, surprised by Eric’s actions. He usually hated answering the door. The doorbell rings again. A loud voice penetrated through the front door and worked its way into the kitchen, saying, “Mom, it’s James. Open up.” Eric runs to the door.
“Good morning, James,” Eric said in a polite tone. His brother doesn’t acknowledge him. He examines him head to toe, amazed to see him wearing a white dress shirt and pants. Then lightly shoulder checks Eric out of his way to the kitchen. Eric is painfully pushed to the side. Eric knew what that was for and that he deserved it. They were close in height. He could hear James saying good morning to his mother. “Wow, mom, did you cook this?” James asked.
“No. It was Eric, actually.”
James was shocked. “Really, Eric! You’re kidding,” he said as he began to fix himself a plate.
“Not at all. It’s 10 am. You’re early?”
“Well, mother, I came early because I wanted to help you to prepare an early lunch for everyone before the lawyer arrives. But, I guess that won’t be needed with this buffet in front of us,” James answered with a sarcastic smile. He still couldn’t believe Eric had made breakfast.
Thirty minutes later, there was another knock on the door. Donna had arrived, and once again, Eric had answered. His sister also just walked right by him and headed for the kitchen. Donna greeted her mother and James. She saw three cups of coffee on the table and poured herself a cup. Donna was much colder toward Eric, and he knew he also deserved that. Eric had spent the day reflecting, and all the people he hurt and his siblings were on the top of the list.
“Eat something, dear. Eric made it,” mother said to Donna as Eric took his seat. “Okay,” she makes a plate, and like her older brother, James did not thank her younger brother Eric for cooking. Eric picked up on that. He could feel the hostility in the air. However, he knew their behaviour toward him is justified. James’ blood boils at the thought of Eric. So being near him made him act like an active volcano. Donna’s anger toward her younger brother was cold. Her approach was acting as if he did not exist. His mother carried no resentment or grievance toward her youngest son. Then again, she did not know so much. It would take a lot more than one kind gesture to repair all the damage.
The whole family was seated at the kitchen table, and for some time, there was an awkward silence. James continued eating as mom and Donna sipped their coffee. Eric’s siblings avoided eye contact with him, regularly checking their phones or looking around the kitchen. When the silence finally became unbearable mother began addressing her children individually. “James tell me how John is doing,” she asked.
“Good, good, he’s starting high school next year. His grades are good. Still deciding what he wants to do,” James answered calmly.
“Very nice. How is your business operating?” his mother then asked.
“Things in town are a little slow right now. There’s an environmental protest blocking the highway, so truckers are forced to take a different route. The gas station is breaking even. The diner is slow, but the motel is full. All out-of-towners, many city folks that aren’t the type to pitch a tent. They need to sleep somewhere,” James said with a smile. Everyone laughs.
“I sympathize with the truckers and not just because they happen to be my best customers. I’ve spoken to many of them, and most are just guys that want to provide for their families,” James said.
“How long do you think the protest will last?” Donna asked.
“Honestly, another week. I was at the diner. A few bikers entered for lunch, colours on full display. I was taking a few orders and serving tables. I walked passed their table a few times. I’d hear them say things like, ‘Blocked highway,’ ‘Dammit,’ ‘Protest,’ ‘Fuck them. They didn’t seem too happy. There were four of them. I don’t know who said what in what context or order. I imagine they’re going to do something about it when the cameras are off.” Then mother turns to Donna. “How’s Toronto?” She’s asked.
“Good. Keeping busy at the bank,” Donna answered.
“How you doing at work?” James asked.
Eric was silent for a moment, embarrassed to answer. “Something wrong?” Mother asked.
“No. I was fired recently,” Eric answered softly. “That doesn’t surprise me,” James said. Mother immediately slapped him over the back of the head. “Ouch.” “Be nice. What happened?” Mother asked.
Eric took a deep breath. “I got into a fight with my boss. I ended up punching his face,” Eric said. They all gasped.
“What happened?” mother asks.
“It was before dad passed away...."
…
At 1 pm that afternoon, the Snyder family gathers in the living room. A chubby, short, bald, clean-shaven gentleman wearing an old grey suit, contrasted by new shiny black dress shoes, had situated himself on the gray armchair facing the family seated on the L-shaped couch. He was pale and had placed an old black leather suitcase on his lap. He was Mr. Frank Parker, the family lawyer.
Mr. Parker greets everyone. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Your father was a good man.”
“Thank you, it has been difficult,” mother responded.
Mr. Parker had to unlock the briefcase with a four-digit code. They hear the clicking sound as he set each number. His first attempt failed. He apologized and tried again. James was irritated. ‘The guy couldn’t unlock the suitcase before he arrived.’ James thought.
On the second try, he unlocks the case relieving some tension in the room. Mr. Parker pulls out a yellow envelope and begins shuffling through the paperwork. Upon his death, he wanted everyone taken care of. “Here it is.”
Mr. Parker had begun to read. “The last will and testament of Richard Snyder. I, Richard Snyder, a resident of the province of Ontario in the town of Rattersfield and being of sound mind and memory, hereby make, publish and declare to be my last will and testament. Thereby revoking and making now and void any and all other last will and testaments and or cata soles to last will and testaments here to for made by me. All references herein will refer only to this will and testament.”
Frank stopped for a moment. “Now, I don’t need to read this entire will. His entire estate would go to his wife upon his death or vice versa. Now, the part that pertains to all of you is the page here. It is a recent add-on.” Frank stated, then passed around copies of the add-on. “As some of you may or may not know, a few years ago, your father sold some land he had inherited years before from an aunt who had no heirs and named Richard the beneficiary.” Then, Frank pulls out a small key, places it on the coffee table, and continues reading. “I, Richard Snyder, upon the moment of my death, leave the content of my safety deposit box located in The Bank of Rattersfield located on 234 Union Street, RF, ON, Postal code R1O 7G2. The content is $600,000.00 Canadian dollars to be used to cover funeral expenses and all outstanding debts. The remainder is divided evenly among my wife and all three heirs,” Mr. Parker concluded.
Mr. Parker had left the key to the safety deposit box with the mother before leaving. James and Donna didn’t think Eric deserved anything. However, both of them kept those feelings to themselves. They left shortly after, neither saying bye to Eric. ‘Even from beyond the grave. Dad was taking care of his family,’ Eric thought.
His mother knocks on the door, “Is everything, okay?” She asks because her son’s actions seem strange to her. She did not know about Eric almost hitting someone with his car or him going to see Father O’Donovan for confession. In her mind, it was grief from the recent passing of his father or sleeping off a hangover.
“I’m fine. Really tired. Just sleeping-inn. I’ll come out later,” Eric responds in a clear tone of voice. Her son sleeping-inn was nothing new. However, the ‘Do not disturb’ was strange. She wasn’t sure if this different behaviour was cause for concern. She thought about the sound of his voice. It did not sound sad, tired or hungover. It sounded normal, as if he had been awake for some time. Could Eric be doing something other than sleeping? Perhaps something he wanted to keep secret, she started to wonder. “Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” his mom responds. Deciding to let events play out and not bothering to test the door.
“Thanks, mom. I will,” Eric answers. His mother is a lovely woman, but Eric needed privacy and was not in the mood to explain anything. He needed complete silence to look deep within himself. The first five on the list were simple enough to remember. From that point, things became difficult as all the awful things he had done came rushing back. As the memories started coming back, he began to wonder why he did such horrible things. The guilt set in shortly after, and he put down the pen. He felt as though he was swimming in an ocean of sadness.
However, as painful as it was, he kept adding to the list one at a time. Writing down the worst of his sins as Father O’Donovan instructed. He wanted so desperately to turn his life around. His mother walks by his door several times throughout the day. She heard him thinking aloud on two occasions. Although she couldn’t make out what he was saying through the door. On two separate occasions, she heard Eric pacing around his room once and whimpering. Each time she wanted to go inside but was then confronted with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign written in big red letters using a marker, and she would respect his wishes. “He needs to be alone,” she thought.
By the late afternoon, Eric came up with twenty-one sins. Completed the list at twenty-one, unable to think of another sin. Confronted by the list, he wondered what he might have forgotten. Trying as he might, Eric drew a blank after having spent the day emptying out his memory bank, finally leaving his room to cook himself something to eat, having worked himself an appetite after not eating for the day. In the kitchen, his mother left a note on the table: ‘I’ve gone to visit your sister. I’ll be back late tonight. Help yourself to the food I saved in the fridge. Love Mom’. Written in her beautiful handwriting. Eric fixes himself a plate of chicken, seasoned rice, and mixed vegetables and runs it through the microwave. Eric wanted to start on his list right away. However, he needed to get his house in order before he could start. Recently fired from his job at the hardware store for tardiness, he no longer had any work obligations.
Eric knew he could not start on his list tomorrow. Tomorrow was an important day. The lawyer was coming by to read his father’s will. It was something he had kept secret even from his wife and kids. Eric was curious but did not want to think much into it. Tomorrow his siblings would be coming over, and he knew they would not be happy to see him. Not that those feelings were not justified.
The next day.
Eric wanted to present to his siblings and mother an image of a better version of himself. So that morning, Eric cleanly shaved, combed his straight brown hair neatly to the side and dressed semi-formally in a golf shirt and dress pants. He wanted to show them he could be a better person. He woke up early that morning and picked up some donuts, trying his best to remember everyone’s favourite. Then prepared breakfast for himself and his family. Prepared coffee, pancakes, and scrambled eggs. When his mother finally made her way downstairs, she saw the table set and all the food, plates and cutlery neatly set on the table. She is presently surprised and seeing Eric cleaned up, compared to his normal rough, scruff look, warms her heart.
“What made you decide to make breakfast?” his mother asked in a polite tone. “Oh, I just thought it would be a nice thing to do,” Eric answered dismissively. It was not time to tell her about his list or his mission to better himself. That would need to wait for now. Until he had a few items crossed off his list to show he was serious. With his reputation, talk is cheap. If he told them, they would be only words with no past actions to back them.
However, his mother could tell her son was up to something. She could hear it in his voice. It would be impossible for her to imagine what it could be. She decided to remain silent. She knew she would know when the time was right. She took a seat at the table. Eric immediately made her a plate and placed it gently in front of her. She smiles, thanks Eric and begins eating. Eric dreads asking, but he needs to know. He took a seat next to her with a plate of his own.
“What time are Donna and James coming by?”
His mother finished chewing and then answered. “I told them to be here for 11:30 am at the latest. The lawyer will be here at 1 pm,” she replied.
Eric knew his siblings would not be happy to see him. Eric was not on speaking terms with either of them, which is why both his siblings were on his list. Eric knows he could not atone for all the pain he may have caused them over the years. Following the priest’s advice, he picked the worst things he had ever done. It was too soon to tell anyone about his mission. His mother knew Eric was not on good terms with his siblings but did not know the whole story. She thought over time, cooler heads would prevail. The doorbell rings. His mother puts down her cutlery and is about to go answer. However, Eric leaps to his feet like a rocket. “Don’t worry, keep eating. I will answer the door,” Eric insists.
“Alright,” his mother responds once again that day, surprised by Eric’s actions. He usually hated answering the door. The doorbell rings again. A loud voice penetrated through the front door and worked its way into the kitchen, saying, “Mom, it’s James. Open up.” Eric runs to the door.
“Good morning, James,” Eric said in a polite tone. His brother doesn’t acknowledge him. He examines him head to toe, amazed to see him wearing a white dress shirt and pants. Then lightly shoulder checks Eric out of his way to the kitchen. Eric is painfully pushed to the side. Eric knew what that was for and that he deserved it. They were close in height. He could hear James saying good morning to his mother. “Wow, mom, did you cook this?” James asked.
“No. It was Eric, actually.”
James was shocked. “Really, Eric! You’re kidding,” he said as he began to fix himself a plate.
“Not at all. It’s 10 am. You’re early?”
“Well, mother, I came early because I wanted to help you to prepare an early lunch for everyone before the lawyer arrives. But, I guess that won’t be needed with this buffet in front of us,” James answered with a sarcastic smile. He still couldn’t believe Eric had made breakfast.
Thirty minutes later, there was another knock on the door. Donna had arrived, and once again, Eric had answered. His sister also just walked right by him and headed for the kitchen. Donna greeted her mother and James. She saw three cups of coffee on the table and poured herself a cup. Donna was much colder toward Eric, and he knew he also deserved that. Eric had spent the day reflecting, and all the people he hurt and his siblings were on the top of the list.
“Eat something, dear. Eric made it,” mother said to Donna as Eric took his seat. “Okay,” she makes a plate, and like her older brother, James did not thank her younger brother Eric for cooking. Eric picked up on that. He could feel the hostility in the air. However, he knew their behaviour toward him is justified. James’ blood boils at the thought of Eric. So being near him made him act like an active volcano. Donna’s anger toward her younger brother was cold. Her approach was acting as if he did not exist. His mother carried no resentment or grievance toward her youngest son. Then again, she did not know so much. It would take a lot more than one kind gesture to repair all the damage.
The whole family was seated at the kitchen table, and for some time, there was an awkward silence. James continued eating as mom and Donna sipped their coffee. Eric’s siblings avoided eye contact with him, regularly checking their phones or looking around the kitchen. When the silence finally became unbearable mother began addressing her children individually. “James tell me how John is doing,” she asked.
“Good, good, he’s starting high school next year. His grades are good. Still deciding what he wants to do,” James answered calmly.
“Very nice. How is your business operating?” his mother then asked.
“Things in town are a little slow right now. There’s an environmental protest blocking the highway, so truckers are forced to take a different route. The gas station is breaking even. The diner is slow, but the motel is full. All out-of-towners, many city folks that aren’t the type to pitch a tent. They need to sleep somewhere,” James said with a smile. Everyone laughs.
“I sympathize with the truckers and not just because they happen to be my best customers. I’ve spoken to many of them, and most are just guys that want to provide for their families,” James said.
“How long do you think the protest will last?” Donna asked.
“Honestly, another week. I was at the diner. A few bikers entered for lunch, colours on full display. I was taking a few orders and serving tables. I walked passed their table a few times. I’d hear them say things like, ‘Blocked highway,’ ‘Dammit,’ ‘Protest,’ ‘Fuck them. They didn’t seem too happy. There were four of them. I don’t know who said what in what context or order. I imagine they’re going to do something about it when the cameras are off.” Then mother turns to Donna. “How’s Toronto?” She’s asked.
“Good. Keeping busy at the bank,” Donna answered.
“How you doing at work?” James asked.
Eric was silent for a moment, embarrassed to answer. “Something wrong?” Mother asked.
“No. I was fired recently,” Eric answered softly. “That doesn’t surprise me,” James said. Mother immediately slapped him over the back of the head. “Ouch.” “Be nice. What happened?” Mother asked.
Eric took a deep breath. “I got into a fight with my boss. I ended up punching his face,” Eric said. They all gasped.
“What happened?” mother asks.
“It was before dad passed away...."
…
At 1 pm that afternoon, the Snyder family gathers in the living room. A chubby, short, bald, clean-shaven gentleman wearing an old grey suit, contrasted by new shiny black dress shoes, had situated himself on the gray armchair facing the family seated on the L-shaped couch. He was pale and had placed an old black leather suitcase on his lap. He was Mr. Frank Parker, the family lawyer.
Mr. Parker greets everyone. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Your father was a good man.”
“Thank you, it has been difficult,” mother responded.
Mr. Parker had to unlock the briefcase with a four-digit code. They hear the clicking sound as he set each number. His first attempt failed. He apologized and tried again. James was irritated. ‘The guy couldn’t unlock the suitcase before he arrived.’ James thought.
On the second try, he unlocks the case relieving some tension in the room. Mr. Parker pulls out a yellow envelope and begins shuffling through the paperwork. Upon his death, he wanted everyone taken care of. “Here it is.”
Mr. Parker had begun to read. “The last will and testament of Richard Snyder. I, Richard Snyder, a resident of the province of Ontario in the town of Rattersfield and being of sound mind and memory, hereby make, publish and declare to be my last will and testament. Thereby revoking and making now and void any and all other last will and testaments and or cata soles to last will and testaments here to for made by me. All references herein will refer only to this will and testament.”
Frank stopped for a moment. “Now, I don’t need to read this entire will. His entire estate would go to his wife upon his death or vice versa. Now, the part that pertains to all of you is the page here. It is a recent add-on.” Frank stated, then passed around copies of the add-on. “As some of you may or may not know, a few years ago, your father sold some land he had inherited years before from an aunt who had no heirs and named Richard the beneficiary.” Then, Frank pulls out a small key, places it on the coffee table, and continues reading. “I, Richard Snyder, upon the moment of my death, leave the content of my safety deposit box located in The Bank of Rattersfield located on 234 Union Street, RF, ON, Postal code R1O 7G2. The content is $600,000.00 Canadian dollars to be used to cover funeral expenses and all outstanding debts. The remainder is divided evenly among my wife and all three heirs,” Mr. Parker concluded.
Mr. Parker had left the key to the safety deposit box with the mother before leaving. James and Donna didn’t think Eric deserved anything. However, both of them kept those feelings to themselves. They left shortly after, neither saying bye to Eric. ‘Even from beyond the grave. Dad was taking care of his family,’ Eric thought.
