FanStory.com - A Friend's Secretby Wayne Fowler

“Hey Bob, how’re you doing. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Huh? I work here. I own the shop!”

“Yeah, but I usually don’t find you here, actually working.”

Bob shook his head, knowing that he was almost always in the shop, rarely having to run errands, especially during normal working hours when the landline might ring. “What’s bothering you? What’s up?” Bob stopped what he was doing and gave his full attention.

“Aw, nothing.”

Bob turned back to his project.

“But if you must know…”

“I don’t.” After a moment’s pause, Bob again stopped work and looked at Tom, his visitor, gazing hard into his eyes. “Remember... I don’t know… a year or so ago?” Bob knew that it was a ridiculous question. Who could answer it? What would he be talking about? The friends saw each other every week, sometimes several times a week.

“Yeah, I remember," Tom said.

“So, how in the world would you have any idea what I’m referring to?”

“Because a year or so ago you told me that if I didn’t want something repeated, not to tell you. And I just said if you must know, and you said you don’t, you don’t have to know. That means you think I’m going to tell you something that I don’t want blabbed all over town.”

“You’re smarter’n you look… or sound.”

“Yeah, well… you ever have a secret that you can’t stand not to tell someone. And you don’t dare, you can’t, tell your wife? Well… that’s what best friends are for. Right?”

“Look. You just told me that you have a deep, dark secret. Guess what. We all do.”

“Not like this,” Tom said.

“You’re special, huh? Let’s see… you had a fling, you saw someone naked – and you liked what you saw, you poached a deer, you’re an ax murderer. you stole from the church offering plate. And now you’re afraid your wife will divorce you, that naked person will tell, you’ll lose your hunting license, you’ll go to prison for life, you’ll get excommunicated. ‘Bout cover it?"

“I have to tell someone! I can’t stand it.”

“What you can’t stand, is your conscience. Go tell that woman never again. Tell the naked person that you’re sorry you saw them and never want to see it again, pay the money back times ten, donate the venison and don’t renew your license for one year. Oh, and burn your ax. And then pay me a hundred bucks for the free psychiatric counsel.”

Tom just tucked his head.

“Whoever you tell, it’s one hundred percent certain that he, or she, will tell at least one other person. Then times that by one each. How long till it’s on CNN?” Bob continued. “A secret stops being a secret the minute you ask someone to keep it a secret. I read that somewhere. How can you even expect someone else to keep your secret if you can’t keep it yourself?"

Bob was on a roll. “Okay, this one I know. It was Benjamin Franklin in Poor Richard’s Almanack: Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead. The smart thing, and you know this, is to keep your secret. The stupid thing is to tell if you don’t want it told.”

Tom spoke more forcefully. “Well, I’m going to say it and you can’t stop me. I have a secret.” With that, he turned and began walking out.

“We still on for fishing tomorrow?” Bob asked.

“Yeah,” Tom replied over his shoulder.

To himself, Bob said, “Well, Tom, I saw you in the mirror that day. You accidentally saw me. The expression on your face told me your secret. But since you didn’t tell it, neither will I, friend.”