Sins of the Father*
April 1996
On this rainy dawn, I find myself again mourning the death of a friend. It seems that generation after generation each child is destined to bear the "Sins of the Father", and each child grows to commit his own sins to be borne by the next generation. Is it an unending cycle? As I feel the adrenalin begin to ebb away, I know that I must record these events now - while they are fresh and vivid.
Damon Ballard was arrested for assaulting his ten-year-old son, Michael. His wife, Lisa, had arrived home to sounds violence. When the police broke into the locked study, they found Damon and the bleeding, unconscious child. The conclusion was obvious to everyone - but me. This could not be the man I'd known for 30 years - the boy I'd met so long ago at boarding school, where we had been two kids with San Francisco and loneliness in common.
I arrived at the Ballard home as Damon's father was leaving. I had forgotten what a despot he is. I've crossed swords with many a demon, supernatural and otherwise, but I'd think twice before making that old man my enemy. Yet I now fear that I have, and, knowing him, it will be to the death. Poor Damon never had the chance to become aught but his father's doormat.
As I later explained to my Legacy colleagues, Damon had heard Michael's screams and had burst into the study to find his son cowering in terror. The doors slammed and locked behind him; Damon himself was attacked by an unseen force. He showed me the bruising to his chest. He remembered nothing more until the police burst in. He was worried about his sanity, but he admitted to marital problems, which had lead to drinking, which had led to domestic dispute calls.
The photos of Michael's injuries were appalling. It is incomprehensible that a parent could do that to a child, and yet every day far worse occurs. It does not take demons to produce human monsters. We do that ourselves. Our team was split over whether or not this was a case for the Legacy. As far as I was concerned, we would pursue it. I wished to believe my friend, or at least give him the benefit of the doubt.
Rachel placed the child's welfare first, which was mandatory for her as a physician - or for any of us. Philip accepted the possibility of a paranormal explanation. He found one of Michael's bruises to bear a resemblance to the "Mark of the Lamb" bound for sacrifice, a sign of spectral attack. But to Nick the case was cut and dried - child abuse. He was so adamant that he questioned my own integrity. I was baffled - this was not the Nick Boyle I knew.
Finally, we decided that Rachel and Philip should visit the hospital, while Nick would thoroughly research the Ballard family, and I would attend Damon's preliminary hearing. If our various efforts determined that Damon was responsible, then we would withdraw our support.
In the midst of the hearing, Philip arrived to pull me out of the courtroom. Whilst examining Michael's injuries they had experienced the phenomenon themselves. Each touch had brought pain and fear to the child, and when Rachel had finally touched the "Mark of the Lamb," the window had blown in and the ethereal force raged within the room.
In the meantime, Nick was pursuing the Ballards with a vengeance. He knew that Damon was guilty - he just had a to find a way to prove it. As he told Alex, who was heavily involved in a case of her own, the family "made their money the old fashioned way. They stole it." It was a genealogy of greed and betrayal: dirty deals, slave labor, political corruption. Nick was certain that the "poltergeist thing was a dodge," and that we should be hunting Damon Ballard, not helping him. Where Nick saw an untouchable prince being "groomed" to assume the throne, I knew a man who "wouldn't do anything against his father's wishes." With that family there was more than enough mud to go around - I fear that my friend was simply too weak to avoid it. Had that weakness lashed out at someone even weaker? Was this a case of child abuse being perpetuated through the generations? Nick could have been right.
Events now began to move rapidly. Rachel's babysitter dropped Katherine off at the hospital after school. The little girl's presence began to unravel the mystery. Kat saw a boy, very pale and cold, dressed only in pajama pants. He stood in the waiting room doorway, turned, and walked away. She followed and saw him walk through the solid door of Michael's room.
By that time I had arrived with Philip. All of the boy's medical tests had come back negative, but a half-dozen new bruises had appeared since Philip had left. Approaching Michael's room, we heard Kat's screams.
We burst in - the attack ceased. While questioning Rachel's daughter, I noticed wet footprints on the floor. At that moment, Lisa Ballard entered, furious that anyone helping her husband was there. However, the entity solved our problem when it again exploded with all its fury. It picked up Katherine's dropped crayon to scrawl the name "David" upon the wall. Michael, now unconscious, had been battered once more. We had to move the child to the controlled environment of the Legacy House - both for his safety and the hospital's.
Nick was enraged when he found Michael in our library. In his anger, my colleague revealed the root of his hostility toward Damon Ballard. He said, "You think you know this guy?... I'll bet you think you knew my father too... but you didn't know him when he was drunk... when he'd fly into a rage, beat my mother up and when I tried to stop him, he beat me up too."
To my everlasting shame, I had no idea. Nick's father had been a good friend, a loyal comrade, and a valued member of this House. I told him that I was sorry, but that if he wanted to help Michael, he would have to get past his own pain. Such an insipid thing to say, but it focused us on our problem, which was to make it through the night in one piece.
Only after getting the entity to manifest itself would we know how to proceed. That was Philip's task as our priest. He chanted his Latin invocations and within moments a furious energy blasted the room. Naturally our computers blew. (Why do we bother? Our electronics budget bleeds red.) The force then attacked poor Michael; both Nick and I were sent tumbling. At that moment, Damon appeared on scene. The violent forces waned; the child that Kat had seen appeared - a blond boy, wet and so pallid as to be almost blue, with eyes that shone pure hatred.
The man's reaction was complete shock. The spectre whispered, "I can't breathe" and Damon collapsed in a faint. I now knew the link lay within that family. However, we soon ruled out a connection to Lisa Ballard. She had not given birth to a still born child, nor had Michael been born a twin. That left the link as Damon Ballard. It was then that the inevitable clash came between husband and wife, followed by the even more inevitable physical confrontation between Nick and Damon. Was Nick lashing out at his own father, at any father? Like a boy after a sandbox brawl, all Nick would say was "he asked for it." My response was "and you didn't?" I gave my young friend the best look of total disdain that I could muster. I can do that quite well. One masters the technique quickly when one must silence a classroom full of college freshmen - if not, one's teaching career will crash and burn.
It was time for Damon and me to have it out, and so we did. In the heat of anger, he finally blurted out, "Why won't it die?" It wouldn't die, because it wanted something that only he could give, and it would use an innocent to wreck its vengeance if needs be. He would do unto Michael what had been done unto him.
At last Damon confessed: in college, he had fallen in love with a girl named Laura, who had been everything Damon had wanted, but everything his father had hated. When Laura became pregnant, Mr. Ballard, Sr. insisted on an abortion, which she refused. Damon yielded to his father and abandoned both mother and son. Ten years later, a photo arrived. It was of Laura and our ghost, signed "To Damon, forever, Laura & David". Two days later she committed suicide, and the boy was found drowned in the bathtub.
The final onslaught began. We rushed upstairs to cut this chain of sin. Damon had to atone. I screamed at David to show himself, which he did - and then slammed me against the door for my troubles. (I wish these creatures would behave in a more rational manner. My back isn't getting any younger; I shall soon have to add a staff chiropractor.)
Again the boy repeated, "I can't breathe." He levitated Michael's body and dropped him at his feet. I yelled at Damon, "Sins of the father! Time for atonement!" and pushed him toward his sons. He was terrified. To save the child, I had to convince my friend to do what he must - surrender to David and seek forgiveness. Finally, stepping toward the apparition, he said, "I killed you... caused your death, and your mother's.... Take me... spare him."
The spectre's fury diminished, but I cannot say I saw forgiveness. He reached out and said, "Come with me, Father." Damon gently grasped the small hand. Bright light enveloped father and son, and swept them upward to vanish into the illumination of eternity. He had atoned. He had paid the full price both for his own sins, his own weaknesses, and for the sins of his fathers. It was over. The curse was lifted.
Personal note:
Nick just left - off to bed, I hope, but more likely off on his morning run. He thanked me for understanding about his "old man". I told him that some wounds never heal, that nobody can change the past. All we can do is make our own peace and move on. Is that true? Do we ever make our peace? Do we ever really move on? Do we not each commit our own sins, and so sin begets sin. Mr. Ballard sinned against Damon, who in his weakness, born of his father's sin, in turn sinned against his own son.
What of Nick? I now know the source of that fountain of rage that sometimes bursts forth. In that lies Nick's own potential sin. What of me? What of my father's sins? What of my sins against Damon. I could have helped him break free, but I took the easy route - I forgot about that merciless old man. What of my sins against Nick? Does he forgive me, or does he believe that I chose to ignore his father's abuses for the sake of the Legacy?
With my god-almighty "Sight" I failed to see Maj. Boyle for what he was. Do I rely so much on the "Sight" that I'm blind to what everyone else sees? No - I cannot escape the black brush so easily. I used the Major's violence, perhaps even encouraged it, for the "greater good". I benefitted by it. The truth is I that I probably did not want to see what was in front of my eyes. God forgive me. I didn't see. I just didn't see.
Yes, we must make our own peace. I must make my peace with Nick, but "I'm sorry" will never suffice. It will never make amends, because it will not help Nick. Nicholas Boyle is a unique young man, who needs unique handling. It will take time, perhaps the rest of my life, but I shall atone. I shall try to mend the fractures in Nick's soul that I helped create. I can try to break the chain of rage that passed from father to son. If I can be granted no other wish in this lifetime, it is that Nick Boyle and Derek Rayne may one day become true friends. Still, I shall cherish the memory of his father as well - the courageous, loyal man I knew - that part of his soul can never be tarnished. What's more - it continues - in his son.
* Season 1, ep. 2, written by Garner Simmons. First aired 26 April 1996 on Showtime. This synopsis appeared in Jigsaw, Issue No. 39.
