Chapter 2.
I fought hard for answers. They say that each book read, we each find what we are looking for. Either in the character or disagreeing with what the character did or what happened. I am still an onlooker, but I know a decent quote when it hits or arrives. Same goes for lyricists or musicians, actors in movies. Anyhow, I had stuck in the fight and asked my dad what to do. His words didn’t falter. He knew well enough not to stray from the truth.
His house was like a warm cave. Wooded of a dark amber. He hated candles lit, but loved the smell. So he had lots of candles, but no matches inside. Rarely he had a fire going. We kind of just depended on blankets. Thick blankets or cozy sweatshirts. He was kind. But he could also be loud and fill up the entire house with unspoken emotion. But it was usually from a strong familiar place.
“Ah! Good morning sweetie! Look at you in your blankets all wrapped up in a cocoon. And a diary I see, ooo, looky-looky. Can I read what you’re writing or is it about a stupid boy that I have to protect you from.”
“Dad, I’m actually writing about you if you want to know. And how my life’s a wreck.”
“Gah! Why you gotta tell the whole world and not my world?! Two worlds are better than the one you’re creating. Well, that’s not so true is it? My world can only provide your world with so much. But hopefully we are both venturing toward something suitable.”
“Dad, does mom still love you?”
“Gah, of course she does. You know how she liked to get angry at me all the time? Well, I reckon she’s still mad about something. And most of that feeling, I brought to life for her. She was a quiet happy clam before I walked in and gave her something to get mad about. Now she’s head of her company, she’s got a new taller man, a lovely child and it couldn’t have been done had I not been present as a practice for her to build a wall between men and achievement.”
“Dad, that doesn’t sound like love, but like self gain and confidence issues.”
“Well, we all have different definitions of love I suppose. She kept me around for more than a few years. She had to get something out of it. If you ask her if she loves me, she’ll say she did. But love is defined differently between her and I.”
“How do you define love dad?”
“Well, I’m a handful, I know. But if someone takes me on and we can erupt like volcanoes or sizzle like lava and mold into something that keeps life moving forward, then I’m all for it. I really thought she would get tired of treating me as a wall to yell at. Thought she would grow out of that instead of into. But, now things are quieter. Things aren’t the same. We did have something, but then again, I have something still. I’ve got you. And she didn’t ruin a good thing. But she also let go of something strong. Three is company. Having to shuffle you back and forth ain’t too bad, but now you have a new equation with your mom.” He kind of pauses between these words, but I keep staring so he keeps talking. “I’ll stay single and keep all of my attention on you. You look a lot like both of us and adding another woman to my already complete life wouldn’t be right. Plus, you’re not writing about boys yet so I can’t get even with you either. Your mother on the other hand, I have some stories. But I’ll tell you when you’re older. I’m going back to the living room to cool down. I felt your breeze, and a mysterious power coming from your bedroom. But now I know you’re writing and communicating in your private workshop. I’ll be in the living room watching the tube. I should probably be reading though. You oughta keep writing and not mention me in how your life is a wreck!”
“Dad!”
“Ah, gotchya! Get back to me though.”
…he’s too much. I love him though. If I’m the moon, strange and mysterious, full of change and maybe some water, then he’s like mars. Trying to form a wild galaxy pull with not too many takers.
Now I just feel spoiled. He leaves me be. He’s always there. I can talk to him about anything.
I know he only does it out of competition. Who can love me more? Mom or dad. When they were together, it was both. Now it just seems like he might be onto something. What is it of my mom to be so driven? To prove she’s not like my dad? Dad’s a good guy. Could be a compensation thing. Or they’re just wired differently. Ugh. Of course he’s a great guy. They picked each other for years. How easy it is for him to smile at her when they exchange me. And she looked down that one time from her car, knowing she made a mistake. Body language is pretty obvious. Mom’s a good lady though. Maybe she had to move on. To die a little and live out her half life while dad sat back remaining full.
I wish I could hear the sound a shooting star makes. I think I already know what it feels like. I feel bad for my dad though. Though somehow, I know he’s not alone or lonely. He’s too strong and goofy for complex emotions. Mainly strong though. I think he just acts goofy because others can’t be taken seriously. I wonder though. I wonder if he would take mom back. But it’s not my place to ask. Not yet at least. I’d have to talk to mom. Because dad is right. I do want to connect and run away. And a boy with a few stupid answers would get my attention. Dad doesn’t know it yet, but he’s guiding me toward someone as good as his intentions. There are few and far between. And bringing a guy home or running away won’t bring him to be proud of me. But my wreck, not his, is on the line. Men are adventures. Mom defeated hers then feels bad about it. And dad just keeps watching sports waiting for things to get better than they already are. I’m more broken than they both are. Mom has two lovers. One that smiles genuinely, and the other that now has a place next to her in bed. And dad, dad seems fine with it all. I gotta go ask him a question.
She walked out of her room softly pittering and pattering with her soft footsteps. Then arrived and sat down on the couch, waiting for a commercial.
“Hey dad? I got to a point in my uh, story, where I need to ask you a question.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Okay. Did you ever feel like roughing up mom’s new boyfriend?”
“Ooof. Wow. Big question kiddo. I’ll tell you what,” His eyes suddenly got heavy. “Go to your room.”
“Okay. Got it.”
She walked back with heavy unorganized footing, knowing very well that that had meant an anger had welled up in him. Or that she had caught him off guard in surprise and didn’t quite have a level-headed answer.
Realistic Fiction
Likes
935 Views
Share: