Lies

From the time Francis was still a young child, it had been a struggle for him to know the difference between the morals expected of him from his family, the morals expected of him from the outside world, and those that he himself believed in.

It was difficult to know what was expected of him when and by who, and whether there were every exceptions between time and place, people and conditions. It seemed to him that each person seemed to expect him to know automatically what was he was supposed to be doing, to feel on his own that their way of thinking towards him was also his as well, and that he would then react accordingly. But for Francis, this didn't come easily.

When was he supposed to speak up, and when was he supposed to remain quiet? When was he supposed to be serious, and when was he supposed to laugh? When was it okay to show that he was angry or sad, or was it ever okay at all? From moment to moment, Francis could never quite be sure.

But the most confusing aspect of it all when he was very young, first emerged from the box, was to know when he was supposed to tell the truth, and when he was supposed to lie.

It seemed that overall, society expected him to be very truthful. In his classrooms his teachers lectured on honesty and trustworthiness, and put great emphasis on being able to believe the words of their students. They talked about the importance of doing your own work without cheating, of accurately reporting scores and wrongdoings, of developing a good reputation and working to maintain it. Almost as important as their talks of good grades and hard work was their repetitive discussion of honesty, and their disapproval of any child that was thought to be a liar.

But those expectations of honesty seemed to be less stringent than they really explained or discussed. While he was expected, Francis soon realized, to tell the truth about the state of his homework or whether or not he had finished the tasks teachers asked him to complete, he would be scolded for making truthful statements such as that he disliked a classmate or to tell someone that their appearance was unattractive. It seemed to him at the time that the rules were arbitrary, changing on the whim of the person speaking them rather than remaining constant, something he could learn and adapt to.

His family only further confused his efforts. Although his parents, particularly his mother, seemed to expect honesty in some conditions, such as in response to whether or not he had brushed his teeth or hit his brother, completed chores or done his homework, his siblings, or at least the twins, actively encouraged him to lie.

"She'll never know the truth," Darlene would tell him with her sneaky/sly smile that she had had even as a preteen, eyebrows arched in a manner that Francis knew now, but had not been able to interpret as a child, as being a trademark of her being deceptive, or at least mischievous. "You won't get in trouble. Trust me."

Whatever it was she was trying to convince him to do, it had never worked out the way she promised, and he had quickly learned that trusting Darlene was something he certainly shouldn't do. Wendell was more subtle.

"You tell them what we were up to, Francis, and I'll bash your teeth in," he would tell him in an almost friendly fashion, even as his smile remained every bit as threatening as one of Darlene's arched eyebrows indicated. "Think about what you'll look like starting fifth grade with dentures before you go tattling to mom and dad."

It seemed that the view of truth, or at least whether or not be should abide by it, bent to rules that were impossible for Francis to figure out. But the hardest to stick to was actually the one that was completely unbending, the only one that every member of his family remained firm with.

He could not tell anyone the truth about who they really were, about the disease that they had been inflicted with. And this was the truth that most colored every part of his life; this was the truth that Francis himself still struggled to come to terms with. This was the truth that every day, he struggled as to whether to speak out- the truth that in the end, always had to remain a lie.