My Grand Pops used to furrow his brow, look me in the eye, and ask, "What’s the ding-dang-deelio?"

That was when I knew the lies were up. There was no more fudging the truth. There was no more putting the blame elsewhere. I couldn’t drag my brother into this. There was no more shrugging of the shoulders.

"I dunno nuthin!’" wasn’t going to cut it. It was me and the terse and tense question that hung in the air like a rain shower ready to let go the thunder and lightning and a torrential downpour.

I needed to fess up or be shown to be an out and out liar. Those were my choices. The jig was now up. The lie was so obvious I could not utter it without feeling horrific.

I had to tell the truth...