Cleansing: A Story of Forgiveness, Surrender, and Strength


"Defense. You're closing statement." 
	Charlie Milo stood up slowly but deliberately. He coughed and systematically poured some water into his glass. He sipped it. He was ready. "You're honor, I do not mean to disrespect you or this court, but I must say that DAMN this jury beautiful." 
	"Objection, your honor. Counsel is trying to fraternize with the jury," the prosecuting attorney injected.
	"That I am, Mr. Lockett. That I am."
	"Sustained."
 	"But, is there anything wrong with a little bit of fraternization? Is there something God awfully wrong with playfully infusing honest compliments within the framework of my professional duties? Mr. Lockett, are you trying to say that the jury is not beautiful?"
	"Objection."
	"Sustained. Mr. Milo, comments like those are irrelevant and unappreciated."
	"Your honor, are you saying that the jury is not beautiful?"
Silence.  "Why is it wrong to say that these fair and righteous individuals in front of me are beautiful? Because it is unprofessional, though, I have to admit, not far from the truth." Milo winked.  
	"But, if it is your job to tell someone that she is beautiful even at the expense of your own honesty and integrity, is that acceptable? Who would be around, as Mr. Lockett has so wonderfully done today, to object to an irrelevant statement? Who would be there to facilitate what is right or wrong as our honorable judge has done during this trial? Nobody. And in a world where we are trying to teach our children, our youth, and our politicians that honesty should finally be the best policy, who will benefit from having to be paid to lie as your lifelong profession? Nobody."
	The jury listened attentively, clearly becoming engaged in Charlie's unorthodox style, while Mr. Lockett became quickly unnerved and began to squirm in his chair.  Charlie laughed, "I know it sounds strange that a lawyer is posing such a question to you. You've got to be thinking that I'm caught in the crosshairs of my own argument. Well, you have the right to think so because you would be correct. I am a paid defense lawyer. It is my job to prevent convictions, and I love what I do. I jump into a heated battleground to prevent innocent people from wrong imprisonment. I am proud of what I do. I am the protector of every American's right to due process. But it still eats me up inside. Yes, at times it does."
	The jury was hooked on the honesty of Charlie's disclosure but were obviously conflicted at what he was trying to get across. It became more entangled.
	"As Americans, we are supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. Like all things, there are exceptions to the rule. We have seen the men, women and children on Court TV who by look, gender, age, and media crucifiction have entered trials convicted before even being given a chance. We have all entered expensive stores wearing only sweats and a t-shirt and were glared at by the employees as if we had already stolen something. As humans, we are not perfect.
	"Look into my eyes. Can you see the contempt? These are the disillusioned eyes of someone who believes in the human spirit who by deliberate chance has had to defend guilty individuals. I have had to defend a murderer who was arrested for parole violations. I have defended a child molester who was charged with extortion. But because the charges I was hired to defend against were both unrelated and untrue I helped send men, who were guilty of unconvicted crimes, free to walk the streets. I offered them a chance to get counseling. But they refused. Rightfully I did my job as a defense lawyer. Ethically, I failed to live up to my humanitarian standards.
	"Dutifully, I protect the right to due process. Like I said earlier, I am proud that I do so. Yet, I am a victim and culprit of the imperfections of our legal process. Somewhere along the line, there is an imbalance between our human souls and our defined legal rules. So today, maybe we could find the balance.
	"You have the power to be the mediating force between logic and heart.  My client is a member of your community. Like you, she was placed in the center between her ethical integrity and her professional integrity. You have the chance to consider both sides. Look into my eyes one last time and remember this glare. Save yourself from it, and acquit my client of the charges against her."
	Lockett was panicking. From a personal standpoint he understood and agreed with Charlie's sentiment. He remembered the faces of the individuals who were more guilty of lack of resources than they were of the crimes charged against them who he had convicted. But like Charlie, he had a job to do, and felt the impulse to yell, "Objection!"
	"For what, Mr Lockett?" the judge asked.
	Lockett hesitated and replied, "Counsel is suggesting to the jury that they be dishonest and rule by emotion rather than by the cold hard facts."
	"Overruled." The judge did not give a reason why, he did not have to.  The look on his face told everyone in the courtroom that he understood what Charlie had so eloquently described.
	"Balance," Charlie repeated to the jury, "balance."
	
When he returned to his seat and after the jury was dismissed to discuss their decision, Charlie felt a gust of energy eject from his body. It was emotionally draining to deliver such a speech with so much of his own personal and professional vices that he was left a bit dumfounded. Charlie was obviously happy about the atmosphere he left in the courtroom and was relieved to be able to be so honest, but his effectiveness began to meander through his conscience. Charlie was completely drained and suddenly his head dropped onto the nest created by his arms where they were resting on the table.
	Charlie woke up after feeling the pool of drool trickling under his cheek. He was lying on his couch when he realized he fell asleep to "The Practice" again. Charlie had been dreaming. He wasn't even a lawyer, but for some reason, he was still drained from such an emotional slumber. 
	That was not the first time that Charlie had experienced that dream, and interestingly enough, the times that the dream did actually have a chance to end, the verdicts had always been different. He recollected that in last week's trial, he successfully defended the innocence of the mirror in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. For some reason, Snow White pressed charges against the mirror stating that it was his fault that she was murdered. He figured that his conscience was relaying a distant observation that his best friend's girlfriend always became angrier at the mirror in her bathroom for reflecting back a displeasing image rather than taking responsibility for her laziness to go to the gym.
	What was disturbing about the dream that night was that it did not end with a verdict. As spiritual as Charlie was, he could not just accept the fact that an irregular amount of drool conquered his deep sleep and thus interrupted his dream from having an ending. It was imperative that it ended. Because of their consistent presence, he had developed an addiction to their symbolism. He demanded deeper understanding, and for some reason he was deprived of his rightful product. Though a storm was brewing in his mind, it was time for Charlie to get up. His assignment was due in an hour and he had not finished his research.
	It was eleven at night and Charlie hated late night showers, but felt he needed to be cleansed to finish his assignment. It was like a baptismal ceremony - to wipe the day's earlier sins while also preparing him for the sanctity he needed to be in to complete his assignment. While in the shower, he reconvened his thoughts to his father. Charlie was a self-proclaimed Happa - happa flip and happa something. 
	Joseph Milo was born in a European country to a young, rich couple who misused their contraception. Immediately after his birth, Joseph's parents flew to the Philippines for a supposed vacation. While on their exotic escape, the couple happened to lose their first born in a shantytown in Cebu.
	"I was excessive baggage," Joseph always told his son Charlie, "but you, you are truly Jesus' gift to me. You are how I know I was forgiven."
	After being raised by a beggar family in Cebu, Jospeh ran away to Manila so he could walk the streets with tough city rats. "I was a bastard, anak - in all senses of the word. I had no parents, I had no value, and I had no God. When I got to Manila, I learned how to drink and smoke. Every night, I became drunk to the point where I browned out and did not even know what I did. Talaga anak, I probably hurt a lot of people those nights. Sometimes I would wake up with bloody knuckles and scratches on my back. My friends told me I got into fights, but they never told me if they were with other men or also with women. Don't ever hit a woman, anak. God will get angry, Jesus will be hurt, and Mother Mary will cry."
	Charlie never really knew how his father escaped the lifestyle he lived, but all he was sure of was that his father loved his Catholicsm. "We found your father praying in front of the church one morning, right on the steps in front." Charlie remembered his Tito Larry had mentioned to him during his first communion celebration, "His arms and face were bloody, he was drunk, but there was a glow in his eyes because he knew he had found the right path.  That was the day he fell in love with God. But he couldn't become a priest.  Don't tell him I told you this, but he loved women too much." Charlie did not understand what his uncle was saying, but just accepted it "Talagang playboy, siya. The ladies loved him as much as he loved them. You see, he was puti - white, and because of that, many people thought he was distinguished and rich. Most of the time, the girls realized the truth too late."
	Charlie's mother was from Manila in a more rural side of town. She was raised in the church and did not get one second of education outside of secular schools. She prayed a full rosary every night for strength. The night she gave a peck on the lips to her friend, she was so ashamed that she prayed three rosaries and fasted before she even went to the padre to ask for solace. It disgusted her that she lusted. She was a nice church girl and caught the eye of Joseph at a church dance. Joseph swept her off her feet with his ability to dance. She was secretly in love with Fred Astaire, but Joseph was the next best thing.
	Eventually, Joseph worked his way through college with a theology degree and began his training to become a deacon. Throughout his studies, the young couple tried to have a baby, but only had false alarms and bruised hopes to show for it. During many of the church functions, many Americans would stop in for spiritual upliftment during their vacation time. One December morning, during Misa de Gallo, Joseph began talking to an American lawyer who came to the Philippines to find a wife. Remembering where he came from, Joseph saw the faces of many of the young girls who he had slept with and he had an epiphany. 
	"Pare," he said, "that is what we call our friends here. I can help find you a beautiful Filipino girl."
	"Pah-ray," replied the lawyer, "can you really?"
	"Yes, because I know of many girls who could use a good, Catholic man like yourself to save them. I will do all this, as a gracious act of God, but with one exception." Silence. "How about you help my wife and me get to America?"
	A generous trade of compliments and plans continued until the sun had fully risen. In the end, a deal was struck, and within two weeks, the American lawyer returned to the United States with a young, brown Christmas present and enough gratitude that landed Joseph and his wife in America by the following rainy season. Maybe it was the Golden Gate, maybe it was the San Francisco wind, maybe it was American food, but once Joseph and his wife settled in California, they were able to conceive a baby who they named Charles in honor of the American lawyer who welcomed them to his world.

	"Pop, there's not much information in this folder you gave me.  I don't even know who the guy is.  Is this all you could get?"
	"Anak, that is all you need to know.  You have an address.  You have the time.  What are you still doing at home anyway?  The deadline is in 20 minutes."
	"Pop," Charlie replied, "I fell asleep.  I had that dream again.  It didn't end this time.  It was kinda disturbing."
	"Well, don't worry about it right now.  Just finish this assignment, then you're done.  Promise me you're done."  Joseph was visibly upset, but sounded as calm as he ever could be.  How could he have turned his Lord's blessing to the life he promised to have ended?  "Son," Joseph rarely referred to his child in English, "your mom would never have wanted to see you doing such horrible things."
	Charlie's mother died while he was still in high school in a car accident.  Joseph was in the car with her, but only suffered minor injuries.  It was a grace of God according to them.  "Remember, anak, Jesus is always watching over us.  He has blessed us with a special responsibility, but now it is time for us to defer that power back."
After he graduated college, Charlie moved back home with his father to assist with his church duties.  What he did not expect was the extra company he found.  Joseph had discovered a new woman to love, but kept it a secret from his son.  He felt that it would not have been helpful for Charlie to endure such an event while he was finishing in his studies.  Charlie rarely visited home because the ghost of his mother still lived in the old house, and he just could not face the spirit of the only woman he respected.  Soon after moving home and adjusting to having his father's new girlfriend around, Charlie began to discover the secret life Joseph was leading.  
By this time, Joseph was a deacon at a prominent church in the community, so he was well known.  Everyone in town knew of the pauper and heathen who was saved by the church and had continued to walk the path of God ever since.  He renewed everyone's faith.  When a series of murders shocked the community over a span of three years, it was Joseph who became the torch and backbone of the whole parish.  It was Joseph who concocted the idea of erecting a new bell tower to honor those who were taken before their time, and it was him who masterminded the yearlong fundraising to benefit the construction.  He was everyone's brother, uncle, friend, and secretly was the parish romancer.  
Charlie remembered that when he was growing up, his uncles from the Philippines talked of his father's two true loves: God and women.  Charlie also knew the underground life his father was leading, and assumed the Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde character that became his father spurred from the post traumatic stress of his mother's passing.  At least, for Charlie, that was his reason for his own un-Godly behavior.
Charlie Milo was a hitman by profession and he was a restaurant owner by interest and cover up.  His father had quietly become the small town Don Corleone.  Behind the cloak of being the community deacon, Joseph was sleeping with many of the female parishioners, had started a prostitution ring in the neighboring town, and laundered his earnings during mass collection with his parish employees.  Despite the criminal syndicate he created, Joseph still loved his church and God.  Though, he tried hard to abide by all the ten commandments, a reoccurring dream of his own convinced him that Jesus was asking him to become an Angel of Death - to avenge the unrighteous acts some of his parishioners were committing.  He felt that he was saving his people with emancipation and repentance.  
Throughout this, Charlie knew that his life was not intended to be involved in the murderous delusions of his father, but somehow he felt that his mother wanted him to take care of his Pop.  Of course, he knew that his mother was truly righteous according to the laws of the bible and would never have condoned the violence and corruption they were producing in the name of Jesus.  But in a way, he did not mind that he was terminating relentless vermin.  He figured that the balance of God would have him repented in a similar way.

There were two minutes left before the deadline of his assignment, so Charlie took a moment to reflect on the reoccurring dream in the courtroom.  He truly felt connected to the lawyer reflection of himself in the dream.  He gave due process to his victims.  Before every hit, Charlie would say a mixed collection of scripture and prayers to repent for himself, but more importantly for the targets.  He wanted them to be cleansed before they could meet God, and he could not have lived with himself if he sent a soul to heaven without proper spiritual renovation.
One minute remained, and Charlie exited his car.  He casually made his way towards the backdoor of the house where his father had led him.  The door was unlocked.  When he stepped inside, Charlie could smell incense being burnt.  "Follow the incense," he remembered was written on a Post It in the folder.  That was all.
Silence.  There was just a heartbeat.  It was not Charlie's but for some reason he thought he could hear it.  The heartbeats became stronger and suddenly John Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" started playing loudly in the room where the incense was leading him.  Charlie welcomed the noisy cover so that he could recite his repentance speech a bit louder than normal.  Past the doorway of the room, there was a silhouette behind cloth drapery at the window.  
He shot.  The body dropped.  Charlie took out a bottle of holy water and proceeded to wash his face with it.  This was his routine.  When he was done, Charlie felt compelled to glance at his latest assignment.  Normally, he found no need to look, but because his father had kept the man's identity such a secret, he was curious.  The blood was still slowly flowing onto the floor and the white drapery was almost completely soaked.  The smell of the incense had been overcome by the scent of a newly opened wound.  Suddenly, the sense of calm was overcome by shock and disbelief.

The blood drenched envelope stained Charlie's hands, and he was shaking uncontrollably.  Somewhere in the chaos of his calmness and  the inertia of his normalcy he was able to get back into his car and open the soaked envelope.
"Anak," it read, "Thank you.  You have saved us all.  You have avenged your mother's murder.  You have emancipated and cleansed me to be welcomed into heaven.  And now you can fulfill your promise.  I am the last one."