Two Burgers and the Truth

Kevin Doucett pulled into the parking spot at the Martin’s Beach Picnic Area. Before he could even put his car in park he spotted Matt Manning standing by one of the picnic benches. Even after seventeen years, he could pick Matt out instantly. Matt had a signature stoop to his shoulders and a way of holding his cigarette. But mostly, he just looked out of place. His dirty grey t-shirt and blue jeans, both smeared with blotches of dried paint, contrasted with the typical Martin’s Beach crowd of well-to-do yuppies and their families.

Kevin took a deep breath and tried to steady his nerves. Matt hadn’t seen him yet. He pulled a flask from his glove box and took a sip of liquid courage. He slipped the flask into his pocket. Kevin knew this reunion could go in a lot of different ways; many of them bad. Part of him was afraid it might even end with him in the morgue. He would not be the first guy Matt had killed. And he certainly would have deserved it.

He took a moment to straighten the collar of his polo shirt and looked down to make sure there were no obvious stains on his khaki shorts. At this point it would not matter, but dressing to impress was an instinct that had been drilled into him. Kevin decided to pop in a stick of gum to hide the whiskey on his breath. Then, he put on his sunglasses and got out of the car.

He began waving until Matt turned his head in his direction, letting out a trail of cigarette smoke that drifted away on the gentle sea breeze.

“Hey, Matt!” Kevin called out.

“Oh my God, that really is Kevin Doucett!” Matt called back. Kevin saw him squint as the sun caught his eyes. So far, so good, Kevin thought. As Kevin made his approach, Matt’s face came into focus. The years- many of them spent behind bars- had taken a heavy toll on him. He looked aged and weathered. His eyes had a steely look in them. But Kevin swallowed his fears and shook his old friend’s hand

“Let’s get some food,” he suggested. “On me.”

About fifteen minutes later, they sat down at the same picnic table, each with a paper boat stuffed with a burger and fries, and a large soda, from Howie’s Snack Shack. Matt took a large bite of his burger; he relished the taste so much even Kevin could see it on his face.

“Do you remember, this place had just opened right before you..” Kevin trailed off. -right before you went to jail, he finished the sentence in his head. Fuck! So much for breaking the ice.

“Oh, I remember,” Matt said. “They had just painted these tables, too.” Matt pointed down. Twenty years ago, the tables were vibrant green. Now, they had withered into dull, almost grey, dotted with rings and gashes of chipped paint that exposed the wood beneath.

“I actually haven’t been up this way since I got out. Hell, this whole boardwalk looks different.”

“Yeah, yeah, they did a lot of work on it.” Kevin felt like he was stumbling over his words.

“And I still can’t believe I found you on Facebook. What have you been doing since you got out?”

“Manual labor, mostly,” Matt said. “And a few odd jobs in between for extra money. Then, I got a full time job stocking shelves on the overnight shift. Been there a few years. It’s been paying pretty good. I got a shitty studio apartment downtown. The rent alone takes most of my damn paycheck!” Matt chuckled. “What about you, Kevin?”

“Oh, I work in advertising now.”

“Ha, sounds like you’re bringing in the big bucks! I remember, you were in college, right?”

“Umass Boston,” Kevin said.

“Where are you living?”

“We got this three-bedroom colonial just outside of the city,” Kevin said. “It’s a nice place. Good neighborhood. I’ll be paying it off for the rest of my life but, it’s my own little slice of heaven.”

“We? Yeah, I saw the ring,” Matt said, pointing to Kevin’s wedding right. “Jenny?”

“Yeah.” Kevin could feel a genuine smile form on his face. “It’s been about fifteen years now.”

“Kids?”

“We have a daughter. Her name is Marie. She just started seventh grade.”

“That’s beautiful, man. You must be really proud.”

Kevin could feel a slight smile of satisfaction break on his face. Then, he felt a thickness in his throat. He felt like he was gloating about his charmed life while his old best friend spent seventeen years in a cell. Before Kevin could say anything else, the thickness in his throat grew into a dull pain. Kevin pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I still can’t fucking believe they did that to you: seventeen years for self defense. It’s a tragedy.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me. Hrmph, self-defense. That’s not how the court saw it. That’s for sure. Ya know if it had happened just a few miles north, just across state lines, then I never would have set foot in a courtroom.” Matt trailed off and his eyes glazed over, as if he was recalling that day.

“So, what was it like? I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

“What was prison like?” Matt said. He grinned, like Kevin had just asked the dumbest question in the world. And in a way, he had. “It’s kinda like going to summer camp, except everything really sucks.” Matt laughed.

What was prison like? Did you expect it to be good?

Matt pulled out another cigarette. “Do you mind?

“No, it’s okay.” Matt offered him one, which he waved away with, “No, thank you.” Matt lit the cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Well, you can probably guess most of it. I lived in the cell. Got the standard one hour per day on the yard. I had to deal with assholes sometimes, but most of the time I just kept to myself. And every day was just kind of the same.”

“I had a few different cell mates. Mostly because they got parole. So each one became my best friend for a few years, and then he got out.” With every word, Kevin felt a new wound open, like someone was stabbing a knife into his heart. Matt gave a brief description of each of his cell mates, their crimes, and what they were like. He called it “how they carried themselves.”

“One thing they never tell you about going to prison is just the noise. It’s loud all the time. You're living in a cellblock with a hundred other dudes. Everyone is talking all day and then snoring all night. Oh, and the smell! Everyone fucking stinks in there!” Kevin chuckled at that.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That must have been awful.” But Matt just laughed.

“Oh, it sucked. But you get used to it. They call it getting institutionalized. The worst part was the mind-numbing boredom. You have to keep yourself occupied or else you go insane. Eventually, I stopped even thinking about how much time I had left. I just had to take it one day at a time. And anyways, what’s done is done. All we can do now is make the most out of the time we have left.”

Kevin let the moment hang for a bit while Matt finished his cigarette. It’s now or never. Kevin.

“Matt, I gotta tell you something,” Kevin said.

“Okay.” It was a flat response. Kevin let out a deep exhale. He tried to look Matt in the eyes, but he just ended up looking down at the chipped green paint of the picnic table.

“I really did steal that money,” he said. Matt’s face dropped into a stoney frown and his jaw tightened. Kevin could feel Matt staring daggers at him even before he tried to lift his gaze to meet his eyes.

“You know, I always kinda knew that you did. I never wanted to believe it, but I always figured that you did.” He didn’t look away from Kevin when he said it. He didn’t even blink.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I really am sorry.”

“Is that why you wanted to meet up? Just so you can tell me this?”

“Yes. I guess that is why, when you boil it all down. I wanted to tell you the truth, because you- you deserve to know.” Kevin said.

“You could have told me the truth twenty-three-fuckin-years ago! You know that, right? Matt clutched his hand into a fist and for a moment, Kevin thought the swing was coming. He winced.

“I know-”

“And you know what they fuckin did to Kayleigh, right? They beat her up!”

“I remember you telling me that,” Kevin said. Every word Matt spoke made Kevin feel smaller. Every word Matt spoke pulled another layer of shame to the surface. “And I never told you then because, well,....” He took the flask out of his pocket and took a swig.

“Oh, here we go, now you need a fucking drink,” Matt said, almost rolling his eyes. Kevin offered him the flask. “You can get that shit outta my face. You’re not a felon but I am and the last thing I need to do is get picked up for drinking in public!” Kevin nodded in shameful agreement and slipped the flask back into his pocket.

“Look, when that kid, Noah, passed out, I went through his backpack. I took his money and his drugs. I found a bag of pot and some pills. Xanax I think. Anyways, then I was looking for a place to hide the stuff so I couldn’t be caught with it on me. Then you and Kay got into that big argument and you wanted to leave. So, I thought I just lucked out. When we got back to your house and I rolled a joint in your bathroom, that was Noah’s stash.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“At first, I thought it would all blow over. I figured Noah’s dealer would just expect him to pay back the money. I didn’t think they would go after everyone from that party like the-the fuckin Spanish Inquisition.”

“Well there was one person they didn’t go after,” Matt said, staring right into the ball of sludge that was Kevin’s soul.

“Yeah, because you covered for me,” Kevin said, hanging his head in shame.

“You told me you didn’t wanna talk to them to protect Jenny,” Matt said.

“I know. I was a coward. I used Jenny as an excuse and said that I didn’t want to get tangled up with a bunch of violent drug dealers.”

“Yeah, you used her alright. You know, I remember every party we went to you tried to hook up with a new girl. How many times did you cheat on her? And I kept it a secret because you were my best friend…”

“After you went to jail, I went to a dark place. I know I have no right to talk to you about dark places.

“A dark place? You went to fucking college!-”

“But, I started drinking a lot. Jenny almost left me. Actually, she did leave me. She moved in with her sister for a while and that was my wake-up call. It took a lot of work, but I changed for her.”

“You were just sipping whiskey at the picnic bench!”

“I’m a work in progress.”

Matt shot up and threw a solid right punch right into Kevin’s face. His hand impacted with a heavy thwack that sent Kevin back. His knees caught on the bench and Kevin teetered to the ground.

“Ah, great! Now I’m going back to the slammer!” Matt yelled. Kevin tried to right himself.

“No, no you’re not. I had that coming,” Kevin said. He got his legs out from around the bench and picked himself up. They both looked around. The area was sparsely populated, but Kevin locked eyes with a woman walking a golden retriever.

“We’re okay!” he called to her. “Everything’s okay!” Kevin looked back at Matt, who had turned her back to the woman, like he was instinctively trying to hide his face. He lit another cigarette.

“Do you need me to call the police?” the woman asked.

“No, ma’am! I mean it. We’re fine. It’s-It’s over anyways.”

“Okay,” the woman said. She shrugged her shoulders and continued walking her dog. Kevin turned back to Matt.

“Why did you even steal it to begin with?” Matt asked. He looked at Kevin like the prosecutor at a trial. Kevin sat back to down at the table.

“I did that because… well, to be honest it was because I just didn’t respect him. I always thought Noah was punk-

“You were a punk, Kevin Ducette.” Matt leaned back and crossed his arms. “You were always a rich little punk from the north shore. You always wanted to roll with the big, tough kids from the bad side of the tracks.” Kevin's face burned. He warped his arms around his torso.

“I could tell that about you from the moment we first met,” Matt said. “But I still liked you Kevin. And sure, you coming from money had its advantages.” That was their dynamic. Kevin had the book smarts, a product of privileged education. Matt had the street smarts, a product of growing up in the inner city. Kevin was the wallet, Matt was the muscle.

“But I saw you develop a mean streak. You always had to prove you were better than everyone else. You always had to have more. More money. More girls. A nicer car. And you always treated us poor kids like we were lesser than you. At least, you did that to everyone else but me.”

“That’s fair,” Kevin said. “I was a real asshole. And I have no excuse for it. It’s just who I was before I grew up.”

“You didn’t grow up. You dodged a bullet that was meant for you. You know, I think about that day every fucking day of my life? Noah and that guy, they called him Chucky, pulled up behind me in that parking lot. Chucky just got out and started throwing punches at me, through the driver’s side window. He was screaming, telling me he wanted the money back.”

“But when I saw them pull up, I was already reaching for the gun in the glove box. I couldn’t get out of the car. I couldn’t fight back. So I grabbed him, wherever I could, and I just plugged him until he pulled away and ran back to the car. He bled out, not too long after that.”

“But still, how could they put you away for so long? You were defending yourself!”

“Like I said, that’s not how the Commonwealth saw it. I didn’t have a permit for that gun; I only started carrying it after Noah’s friends beat up Kayleigh. And I already had a record. Small shit, but they still used it against me. The DA convinced the jury that this was the natural conclusion for a kid who couldn’t keep his nose clean.”

“That’s so-so unfair.”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it? What’s done is done.

“So, here we are. Just you, me, and the truth, sitting at a picnic table.” Matt said.

“I really don’t need to forgive you. But I guess there’s also no point in holding a grudge either. Like I said, what’s done is done. All I can do is make the most of the time I have left.” Matt got up.

“Thanks for lunch, old buddy. I’m really proud of you and your family.”

He walked off. Kevin watched him walk away. He sat there until Matt got into his truck and left.

Later on, Kevin found himself sitting at his favorite watering-whole, the Renegade, with half a pint of dark beer left in his glass. He looked at his phone. It was a picture of Jenny and Marie. They were both in their pajamas, surrounded by wrapped boxes of Christmans presents. Marie, only ten years old then, held up the tablet that Santa had brought her that year. She smiled from ear to ear.

Matt’s words echoed in his head, swirling around his psyche. No one had made him feel that small in decades. He felt like his entire life - his high-value job, his three-bedroom colonial in the suburbs, and even his beautiful family - was built on a lie. And it was built on a debt that Kevin could never pay back.

Matt Manning paid for it. He paid for it with seventeen years of life. And he was still paying for it. He was scraping through the mud, every day of his life, fighting against the stigma of his conviction. It would follow him into every job interview. It would follow him into every neighborhood if he tried to move. It was a part of his body, poverty and stress had saturated every cell that was Matt Manning.

Matt was right about something else, too. He did not need to forgive Kevin. And Kevin asked himself, did he really need Matt’s forgiveness? It would not change anything. They would never be friends again. Not like how they were before. Kevin went almost thirty years without his best friend. He had built an entire life for himself.

Kevin took another sip of his beer. Eventually, he would have to go home, back to his little slice of heaven, and explain to Jenny how he got his black eye. This time, he did not dodge the bullet. He took it. He would order another beer and unfriend Matt Manning on Facebook. There was nothing else to do there. He would always carry some guilt in his heart. But he could only leave that part of his life in the past.