Be All My Sins Remembered
Confiteor (n): a form of prayer confessing sins, used in the Roman Catholic Mass and some other sacraments
—Google Dictionary
It was now 2002. The holidays had passed, and the lights, tinsel and trees were now being taken down. The Melee tournament had settled into a bit of a routine, with fights beginning at 9a.m. and concluding at around 5p.m. Wireframes were now a part of the Smashers' lives, cheerfully providing help when needed, just as Polygons were integral to the first tournament. And Master Hand and Crazy Hand were well-settled into their roles as the Hands of Creation and Destruction, respectively.
Unfortunately, Kirby's situation had only worsened after the dawn of the New Year. MH's chiding words had gone through one ear and out the other. Fox and Falco simply thought they were immune to punishment and continued to do whatever they wished to the Star Warrior, from using him as a ball to "trash-canning" him. Look on the old Smash Blog, and you could find many vicious posts attacking Kirby, and they weren't just from Falco and Fox. A lot of the spectators and gamers chimed in, as well. And of course, Ganondorf and Koopa had some things to say, as well. And while Marth had stopped physically antagonizing Kirby after a chance match-up with Luigi on Yoshi's Story, he continued to do so over the Internet. MH imposed heavy fines on the offenders, but it did little good.
Douglas Jay Falcon was on hand to witness these things, and what he saw made his gut twist. Kirby's trials made him remember the cruel way he was toward Luigi, and while he saw the light and stopped, he felt like he was a participant in this somehow. Through inaction, through unwillingness to lift a finger to stop Fox. Over the course of Melee, Luigi would give him these looks, the pain, anger and betrayal clearer than a pond. Whenever they sparred or fought on the battlefield, the plumber would hit hard and mercilessly, yelling his lungs out. The racer would be drawn into Luigi's eyes, making him remember what he did, making it clear that the time had come for his penance. Sometimes, he'd hear Luigi sniffling at night. One night, he'd passed by the gym on his way from using the toilet and saw Luigi mounted on a spin bike, shirtless, face intense, pedaling briskly. Quietly, he'd leaned against the window and watched, searching for a way to ease his friend's pain. He could hear the sound of his breathing through the glass. And even after he went back to his room and fell asleep, the images of those upper body muscles working and that weaving, sweat-bathed frame were burned into his mind.
At first, he'd tried to support Kirby. He wanted to make it clear to the little guy that he wasn't one of them anymore. But Kirby had been reluctant to trust him, and who could blame him? The other low-tiers, like the Ice Climbers, Pichu and Zelda, gave him the cold shoulder, as well. News of his past behavior must've traveled fast.
Finally, Captain Falcon couldn't take it anymore. Which brings us to the present moment—the racer and bounty hunter sitting in Master Hand's office, seeking out advice.
"I look at what Fox is doing, and I feel so helpless," he was saying. "I want to say something or do something, but he's my friend, y'know? He'll take it the wrong way. But he needs to understand—what he did in 1999 isn't going away anytime soon. His current actions are just compounding the pain. I need to talk to him, but how can I get through?"
MH stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I noticed that you're close friends," he said. "It's likely that he'll listen to you."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then you must show him the consequences of his actions by breaking things off. It's either that or succumb to peer pressure and be drawn back into that life. I see that you've learned your lesson from the first tournament. I'd hate to see you fall back into that behavior."
"That's also what I want to talk to you about," said Falcon. "MH, I can barely sleep. I keep thinking about what I did to Luigi and—I feel sick. I see his eyes every hour of the day—he's still trying to grasp not only what I did, but also why I did it. He's not convinced that I've changed at all."
"Have you ever tried showing him?"
"Well, I've tried to be friendly with Kirby, but…"
"Have you spoken to Luigi about this?"
"I—no. I don't know what to say."
"You can start by apologizing to him," said MH. "Then, I want you to be honest and open with him and tell him what's on your mind. That's likely to encourage him to open up to you in turn."
"I don't know if it'll work," said Falcon.
"Life is full of risks, Falcon. What counts is taking that plunge, regardless of where it takes you."
Falcon sighed. "I guess you're right," he said finally.
"And what about Samus? Are you two okay?" MH ventured.
Ah, that was another thing. Falcon and Samus hadn't really been the same since the day they lost that Team Battle and he tried to pin it on her. They'd reconciled, but something just didn't feel right. Douglas had focused so much on Luigi that he'd almost let his fellow bounty hunter's feelings slip under his radar.
"I—really don't know," said Douglas. "I guess I should talk to her, too, huh?"
"I think so," said MH. "Luigi and Samus won't have answers to your questions right away, but believe me when I say that talking to them is a good start."
Falcon nodded. "Great," he said. "Who should I seek out first?"
"That," said MH, "is entirely up to you."
…
"Hey, Fox," said Douglas when the vulpine opened the door. "We need to talk. Now."
"Uh—okay," said Fox, letting his friend in.
Falcon took a seat and got straight to the point. "WTF are you doing, man? Ever since that tier list came out, you've been acting like you own the place. You did the same thing during the first tournament—haven't you realized that you're hurting people?"
Fox blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," said the Captain. "When we saw our high placements on the first tier list, we were so happy, remember? But then it got to our heads. We hurt people. We hurt Samus, DK, Ness, Link and Luigi—mostly Luigi. We pulled pranks on him, humiliated him and lambasted him online. We finally saw what we were doing and apologized. But now—you're going down the same path, and you're hurting Kirby. Why? He's been nothing but nice to you."
"Falcon, my man—of course I remember what it felt like," said Fox. "It felt good—important."
"But we almost lost ourselves," Falcon reminded him, "and you're about to lose yourself now."
"Don't be absurd," said Fox. "I'm not losing myself."
"Why did you attack Kirby?"
"He attacked me first. That puffball punched me in the face, and I defended myself."
"He punched you after you said those horrible things to him," said Falcon. "You're treating him like crap because he's at the bottom, and I'm thinking that you forgot what happened last time."
"Last time, Luigi was at the bottom. Here, he's toughened up. I want Kirby to do the same thing."
"By bullying him?"
"I'm not bullying him, and I'm not hurting him. I'm shaping him."
Douglas was flabbergasted. "Shaping him? Are you out of your mind? How is your mistreatment shaping Kirby? All it's doing is making him miserable."
"Miserable? Well, that's his problem," scoffed Fox.
"Oh, my God. How apathetic can you be?"
"Who are you calling apathetic?" challenged Fox. "You pulled pranks and stuff alongside me. You went the extra mile by calling him that name and goading him into a fight. You're being the hypocrite."
"I admit that I did those things," said Douglas. "I did them because I was proud and cocky. I almost destroyed our friendship, just like I almost destroyed the relationship with the woman I love. I'm trying to keep you from doing the same thing—again."
"You wanna know what I think, Cap'n? You've gone soft. You've lost your edge," said Fox. "You used to stand by my side, and now you're walking out on me—because of a puny puffball?"
"Do not insinuate that this is my fault," warned Falcon. "I'm having this talk with you because you're my friend."
"My friend—and yet you're defending the little brat who tarnished my reputation?"
"You only have yourself to blame for that!" snapped Falcon. "You had no reason and no right to verbally and physically attack Kirby, use him as a ball, or trash-can him!"
"Oh? So this is my fault?"
"Yes! Yes it is!"
"My fault!" Fox jumped to his feet. "I can't believe this! I'm the bad guy, and poor little Kirby is the victim! Why are you all feeling sorry for him?! He's low-tier [bleep], and so was Luigi!"
Falcon blanched. "How could you say that?"
"I'm the best Smasher in Melee! I'm the top dog of Star Fox! And what are Luigi and Kirby? One's a plumber who nobody knows, and the other is a childish glutton who loves stuffing his face with cake! And you have the audacity to side with them! Some friend you turned out to be!"
"Right now, I don't see a friend," said Falcon. "I see a toxic influence, an out-of-control, self-destructive person who needs to get his act together."
"What are you, my mom?"
"I'm trying to help you."
"Yeah, well—I think you've helped enough," huffed Fox. "I was in a good mood, until you showed up preaching to me."
"You know what? If you're gonna be that way, then be my guest," said Falcon, rising to his feet. "I tried getting through to you, but you're stuck in your own little world, where every Smasher and Wireframe is yours to push around. So, you go have fun with that, but you're not dragging me back into that life."
"After everything we've done together, you're abandoning me?!"
"Until you realize what you're doing isn't funny or entertaining, I can't be around you anymore."
"Well—isn't this great?" sneered Fox. "You're cutting me loose to ease your own guilty conscience! You don't give a [bleep] about Kirby or Luigi! You're just taking their side to clean your own hands!"
"That's not true, and you know it."
Fox clenched his jaw. "Get the [bleep] out of my room," he ordered. "I no longer wish to know you or what you do. I don't want to see you at anymore of my parties, and I don't want you near my teammates."
"That's fine with me," snapped Falcon. "I never wanted to attend your rambunctious disturbances, anyway!"
"Next time we're on the battlefield, I'm gonna break that handsome face of yours," threatened Fox.
"Oh, yeah? Well, good luck with that!" spat Falcon, marching toward the door. "Nice knowing you, Fox. Have a nice life."
"[Bleep] you!"
Captain Falcon stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
…
Later, the racer sat in the lounge, nursing a mai tai, when he heard approaching footsteps.
"A coin for your thoughts?"
Falcon looked up. "Luigi? What are…?"
Luigi cut him off, laying a hand over his. "You can always talk to me," he said softly. "Mind if I sit here?"
"No. Go right ahead."
Luigi sat next to Falcon as a Wireframe walked up to him.
"I'll have a Poppin' Purple, please," he said, "and a plate of cheese fries to share."
"Coming right up," said the Wireframe.
"So—why the long face?" asked Luigi.
"I—I had to end my friendship with Fox," Falcon said quietly. "I tried to talk to him about Kirby, but he wouldn't listen. So—I told him off."
Luigi listened silently. "You did the right thing," he said finally.
"I should've done more," sighed Falcon.
"What do you mean?"
"I should've stopped this before it started," explained Falcon. "I'm seeing Kirby, broken, and that's when I see you. I hurt you, Luigi, and I can't take it back."
"Yes, you hurt me. Deeply," said Luigi. "I can't get what you and Fox did out of my head for the life of me. It hurts like Hell, and I can barely look you in the eye without thinking about it. I get—I get so angry…"
"As is your right. But can you just—please—give me some credit? I'm trying to help Kirby, trying to make it up to you…"
"It's not that simple," said Luigi. "The memory is still fresh. Things like that—take time to heal from. And those things—leave scars. They stay on me, clinging to me like—ghosts."
"Ghosts?"
"The ghosts of memories, the ghosts of what you said, what you did. Except for these ghosts, vacuuming them up won't make things better. I have to learn to let them go. And it's hard—it's so f—ing hard, because the ghosts don't want to leave. They want me to hold this grudge against you and Fox, but I want to move on. And grudges keep people from doing that."
"Forgive me," pleaded Falcon.
"Easier said than done."
"Then what can I do? Tell me, Luigi. How can I make this better?"
Luigi stared at him with teary eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just don't know."
Falcon lowered his head.
The Wireframe arrived with Luigi's drink and the food.
"But you took a big step in proving that you've learned," said Luigi. "You confronted Fox, called him out on his actions and severed ties when he refused to listen. You're making progress."
"Really?"
"You are. Whenever we're in the same room, I have to restrain myself from screaming at you and attacking you. But when I saw you sitting here, you looked so sad. And I decided that if I could get you to open up to me—then I could open up to you."
"Oh, Luigi…" sniffled Falcon. "I shouldn't be piling this on you."
"I'm trying to take the high road," explained Luigi, "but you've got to meet me halfway. Can you do that?"
"I—I'll try, Luigi."
"Don't try, Captain. Do."
"Okay."
The two of them sipped on their drinks and enjoyed the cheesy fries, moving on to lighter subjects. Falcon was glad that he was close to mending things with Luigi. Yet he knew that his work was far from over.
…
"May the Lord be your light so that you may find it in your heart to confess your sins in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Ghost," said the Wireframe chaplain.
Douglas took a deep breath. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he began. "It's been nearly two and a half years since my last confession."
"And what is your sin, my child?"
"I was prideful, Father. I was prideful and wrathful. During the first Smash tournament, there was this tier list, you see. A former friend and I were ranked relatively high. But there were five people who were ranked very low, and I'm sorry to say that I mistreated them. I shouted abuse. I called one of them a name and physically fought him. One of those five was a woman I'd fallen in love with. I tried not to let it affect our relationship, but one day, when we were in a Team Battle, she did all of the fighting while I—postured. We lost, and—I yelled at her, blaming her for losing. I was so cruel. Even after I apologized, I feel like I still haven't made it right."
"I see," said the chaplain. "Have you talked to them?"
"Yes, Father. I talked to one of them, who was at the bottom of the first list. He opened up to me about how I made him feel and told me that he's trying to forgive me."
"How about the others?"
"Well—not really."
"The woman you've mentioned—have you thought about apologizing to her?"
"I apologized already. I bought her flowers…"
"But you haven't had a serious talk about it?"
Falcon sighed. "No, Father. I'm nervous about how it will go. I betrayed a lot of people's trust, and I've spent these past few years wishing I could take it back."
"I sense genuine remorse in your words, my child. But you must remember that redemption and forgiveness takes work. And if you are reluctant to speak to them about this, then they will probably doubt your remorse."
"Do you—think speaking to them will help?"
"I can certainly guarantee it. But after speaking to them, there is someone you must forgive."
"Who is that, Father?"
"Yourself."
Falcon pondered this for a moment. "I see."
"For remission of sin, I recommend three Our Fathers."
The racer bowed his head and crossed himself as the chaplain gave him the Rite of Absolution.
"Go, and do not fall into sin again."
Falcon rose and left the chapel, a small feeling of peace materializing in his heart and spreading through the blood in his veins. What he needed to do would be exceptionally difficult. But it would be done.
Confiteor Deo omnipotenti,
et vobis fratres,
quia peccavi nimis
cogitatione, verbo,
opere et omissione:
mea culpa, mea culpa,
mea maxima culpa.
Ideo precor beatam Mariam semper Virginem,
omnes Angelos et Sanctos,
et vos, fratres,
orare pro me ad Dominum Deum nostrum.
Translation:
I confess to almighty God
and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have greatly sinned,
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done and in what I have failed to do,
through my fault, through my fault,
through my most grievous fault;
therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin,
all the Angels and Saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord our God.
—Confiteor, 1970 Missal
Sorry for the delay; I'm working on other projects.
Please R&R. And be sure to check out my latest project, "Unwritten".
