jml297

Jason had mastered the art of keeping his expression neutral, despite his inner lie detector beeping with the insistence of an alarm clock just out of reach. He had learned early on that telling people that they were lying was of little help. It only seemed to antagonise them, or encourage them to dig deeper into whatever falsehood they were trying to pass off as the truth. There were times when it was almost comical to see the extent that people would go to attempt to convince him that the lie was a truth. But the warning sound rarely diminished with the additional information provided. So in most instances, Jason simply nodded and listened to what was said.

‘It was a mistake. A once-off. You know that the only person that I’ve really loved is you.’ That was one of the hardest lies to take at face value, and Jason still shuddered when he recalled how long he’d tried to ignore the lie that his now ex-wife had told him. It was the beginning of the end of their marriage, but it took him months to accept it. It had started him questioning the inner compass that he’d known all his life, the sometimes uncomfortable ability to simply know what was the truth.

There were times when it was helpful. ‘Looks like all your shock absorbers are worn out. It’s gonna cost ya.’ With the inner alarm bell ringing, Jason had asked for a quote, then found an honest mechanic who addressed the actual problem for a reasonable amount. ‘That’s the lowest offer the vendor will accept,’ the real estate agent had insisted. But with some persistence applied, the true figure had been disclosed, and they’d bought the house of their dreams.

But one of the most surprising consequences was how friends, family and even strangers seemed to call upon Jason as the repository of their secrets. Secrets big and small, interesting and embarrassing — there seemed to be something about him that encouraged confidence. His family called him ‘The Vault’ because he took their disclosures seriously. There was Lisa’s confession that she was a bit light-fingered when it came to being the banker at the annual Monopoly tournament at the Easter family gathering. And Simon’s revelation that he’d found out that he had a teenage daughter in Canada, and he wasn’t sure how to tell his wife of over 20 years. A stranger had told him about seeing someone hit by a car, and being haunted by thoughts of having pushed them. Jason could hear the truth in all of it, and occasionally, it was a heavy burden to hold.

As he got older, though, Jason found that most of the lies that he encountered were small. Often they were unnecessary; those little ‘white’ lies that people told with the best of intentions or to smooth a difficult situation. And even though it pained him, there were times when even Jason let the truth take a back seat.

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. Human Lie Detector: your main character is a human lie detector.

Photo: three wise owls