The Man Upstairs

“Faith . . . ”
         I speak her name numbly, hopelessly.  She is gone and I know it.
         I drop to my knees in front of the door—the door through which my beautiful, loyal Faith has just left me.
         The pain—suddenly it’s there!  It starts in my gut, twisting and boiling until it explodes up my spine.  I gasp.  It spares no inch of my body.  Every molecule screams her name over and over, but my brain fights back in a relentless cadence: Gone, gone, gone . . .
         “Daddy?”          
         Sit up.  Dry my eyes.  Breathe and look my daughter in the face.
         I can’t speak.
         “Daddy, why are you crying?”
         “Sarah, honey . . . ” My fatherly instincts take over and I take her into my arms.  Silently, I rock her back and forth, back and forth.  Gone, gone, gone . . .
         “Sarah, your mother—”
         My voice breaks.  I breathe deeply, smell my beautiful little princess’ hair.  I have her.  I have my girl.
         “She’s gone.”
         Sarah stares, not understanding.  I can barely look her in the eyes as I tell her the truth.  Gone.
         “Your mother and I had a disagreement last night,” I say, choking on the bitter understatement.  “I don’t think she’s coming back.”
         Her eyes show the first sign of comprehension. Then her mouth twists into a frown.
         “No!” she shouts and races into her room.
         I stand up to follow, but a deep knock on the door interrupts me.
         Quickly, I stride across the room to the kitchen sink—the action only takes three steps in our little apartment.  I splash water on my face and dry it with a towel, hoping my face doesn’t betray my emotion as I open the door.
         “Hello, David.”
         Samuel stands straight despite his age, and the striking blue eyes that contrast so fantastically with his white hair are wise and kind.  The sight of my landlord triggers something in my brain, and I slap my forehead.
         “The rent!”  I exclaim, my dread compounding every second.  “How could I forget?”
         Samuel does not speak as I continue.
         “Sam, I know I’ve said this before, but . . . I really need some more time.  It’s been a really rough week.”
         His only response is to smile as he looks past me and spots Sarah.  She shyly approaches.
         “Hello there, princess,” he says.  “Have your mommy and daddy been treating you well?”
         Sarah giggles and hides behind my leg, not cringing as I do at the mention of my wife.
         He straightens to look at me.  “How about this, David: you and Sarah and Faith come have dinner with me tomorrow at my home upstairs, and I’ll conveniently forget you’re a paying customer until you can muster up some more money.  Oh, and bring some of Faith’s delicious pasta salad.”
         My slight smile disappears.
         “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” I say quietly.  “She left me last night.”
         Samuel’s own grin falls.  His eyes, however, remain fixed on my own.
         “Come with me.”
         Still numb, I take Sarah’s hand and follow Samuel.  No one speaks until we are inside.  Sarah immediately runs off to look at the storybooks in another room.  Samuel and I sit facing each other.
         “Talk to me, son.  Tell me what happened.”
         Before I realize I have opened my lips, the story spills out.  By now, my tears have run dry, and without emotion I tell him of losing my job, my trouble with Faith, and her sudden absence in my life.  Samuel listens to it all.  His bittersweet expression shows sadness for my plight, but I sense he also holds some secret joy.  When I finish, he leans forward and places a comforting hand on my shoulder.
         “David, it’s time you learned something.  You’ve been through so much, and I know it has been very hard for you.  But I have something to tell you that will completely turn your world upside down—it is your choice whether it is for better or for worse.”
         He reaches over to a shelf on the white wall and picks up a framed photograph.  The man’s appearance is rather ordinary, his hair light brown—like mine—and his clothes are not expensive or especially stylish.  No, this man could pass off as any old nobody if it weren’t for his eyes.
         His eyes!  Something about them changes the whole picture.  Deep, full of wisdom and love—for some reason, although I am sure I have never met him, looking into those eyes makes me feel as if this man is my closest friend.  There is something familiar about their incredible gentleness that gives me pause.
         “This is my son, Joshua.  He grew up in this place, before you came here, but a long time ago he decided to go out into the world and make a difference.  He worked hard to improve the lives of everyone around him.  He has accomplished many, many great things.  I love him very much.”
         I nod, still looking at the picture.
         “David, my son has been paying whatever rent you cannot provide.  Every time you have fallen short, he has made up the difference.  And he will continue to do so.”
         I stare.  “Why?  Why would he do that?”
         “David, Joshua is your brother.”
         “Pardon?”
         Samuel nods slowly.  “And I am your father . . . your true father.”
         I have always known I was adopted—can it be that this man, this close friend, makes up half the couple that gave me life?
         Somehow, I know he speaks the truth.
         “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
         Before he can answer, Sarah reenters the room and puts her hand in mine.  I grip it tightly.
         Samuel smiles, but his eyes are serious.  “David, I intend to answer your question, but for now, it is only important that you know this one thing:
         “All your life you’ve known I existed, but you never took the time to find me.  I wanted you to know me, but I knew that the only way that this reunion could be meaningful is if you knew what it was to suffer.  You had to know how it felt to be alone.  When things went wrong and you lost Faith, I knew it was time to bring myself fully into your life.”
         A knock on the door.  A smile from Samuel—he motions for me to open it.  I hesitate until I see who stands on the other side of the peephole.
         “Faith!”