Every weekend… Every weekend we come out here to see them play and he does the exact same things. Has his hands up to his face and just lets the other team run past with the ball. All those practices and he just does not do a thing when the game is on. Four years of this and he still does not care at all about it. When I was his age, I was out there wishing I had a uniform and a new ball to play with and people to make me better at the game. But no, we have to come out to the pitch and see him just freeze in front of all of the other parents and stand in the grass, mud and rain like a statue. No way he is ever going to stand up for himself in this life, I tell you now. I can see what is going to happen with him when he gets out there and has to fight for what he wants. No fight in him and just gonna let everyone in the whole damn world tell him what to do with himself. Every week we are seeing his future, believe me. So pathetic…
*
Why is he having so much trouble with the math? Every report card, they telling us he good at geography, history, English and then we see what he does with the numbers and I ask and they keep going on about how some kids just don’t get it and my son is one of them. What kind of teaching do they make up in this country that they allow such people responsibility with them? And don’t think that I don’t know about you buying him those work books and making him do so much extra practice when he comes home. It is not helping at all from what I see. And he is going to be in high school soon. They’ll eat him alive if he can’t figure out the basics now and needs to have constant tutoring on this stuff. When I was a kid, I had no trouble with the numbers, and I still end up in a steel mill in this country. What can he do without the math he need to find a job here? What is going to do with himself if he can’t do that and is no good with sports at all (never talk about that when we get his report card, do we)? Just worried now…
*
I should be surprised by this. Not wanting to go to church on Sundays I saw coming a million miles out of the way and he thinks that he is a big man now who can just do what he wants on his own? Not in my home, no luck. He is going to do something with his weekends if he ain’t at a church. And I don’t care what he said about them and the children that they hurt. You’d think it happened to him the way he talks about it (never had to be in no orphanage, did he? Not a bad idea now, eh?) And he just using it as an excuse to stay home and play that stupid guitar his brother gave up on (why you bought it, I don’t know; all he does is practice with it and never really hang out with any friend I can see; don’t care what he say about a band). So, we have another thing to worry about with him. No good with anything to do with math or sports; no church and religion a lost cause. What else, he gonna take over the government one day. Jesus…
*
…Christ… Overseas? He really has to leave the country to find work? I thought all that language and study would be for a school here, not on the ass-end of the planet with no family or friends to speak to him in his own tongue. And how long does he want to stay, anyway? His whole life? Has he even told you about that? You’re his mother and you are gonna let your other son off to go gallivanting around with a bunch of people who will make him eat things we can’t even look at on TV? It’s a joke, but you don’t have to laugh at it. And how are we gonna stay in touch with him? He won’t have his own phone right away and what if something happens to him. If it was me, I would not go off to some foreign country to work and… Yeah, I know that is what we did, but this is different. I don’t know the place he is going to be at except from the movies and he does not know, either. Yeah, he can speak some of the language but is that really enough? He has a few months before, so maybe he will change his mind. Maybe…?
*
…and now he is going to marry one? What does he see in her, anyway? Every time I’ve tried to talk to her, she just looks away and has that little smile I cannot understand at all. And then he said that nonsense about how it is all bad luck and not to talk to her before the wedding… Well, when was I supposed to talk to her? We never got a word about it except a letter that you never shared with me until he came back with this and dropped it all over us. And she isn’t the one paying, y’know? “Shared debt, shared life”, he said. He actually said that to me and thought that I would understand. Won’t even let me make a speech at the thing and, oh, I can bet on it… Is it even gonna be in English? Will I even understand a word that they are saying? No, I need more in my glass right now. My father would never have allowed this at all. No chance. What a world.
*
What a home…and you finally got me where you want me, right? Son, I know you paying for it out of your deep pockets (never thought that they would go that deep), but you could have had me in one of them homes you have now. Your wife must be the reason you are up to this, right? Your late mother would never have been in such a situation if she was here, I think. She would not have allowed anything like this to happen and I can only see her looking down and… Yeah, well, I will see you later next month. Good that you make a promise. In my day, we all promise and try to keep it if we are not too far away, on another island and in a cold place that keeps us… Sorry, speak to you another time, son. You are better with this than on the pitch, eh? You don’t remember? You don’t. Interesting…
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11 comments
This is such a unique and interesting story, probably different to anything else I've read on here. Once I realised what you were doing, I was like "damn, that's actually pretty effective". The dad's voice comes through really well, and I love how we feel like we know the son even when everything is coloured through the dad's lens. The ending was sad but not altogether surprising. Thanks for sharing. :)
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Thank you. This was probably the fastest one I've ever written for Reedsy (voice was fully formed in my head). And I liked your piece on the chimney sweep!
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Kendall... your story brought back memories of my father, who passed away eleven years ago. But his French accent came through in your words, and his upbringing in the old Catholic church, with their strict rules, and how he put his strict rules on us was a flashback in time for me. You captured the essence of French Canadian life very well.
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My family is West Indian and my parents were raised in the Catholic church. I think that is why the voice came out so clearly and easily. Thank you for the recognition!
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You are so welcome Kendall!
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What I find wonderfully interesting about this piece is that our narrator is not necessarily our protagonist. We're glimpsing the son driving the narrative forward, making choices, building a life, through the eyes of the person who would perhaps hold him back, perhaps unintentionally. All our parents' best intentions, after all. The cycle is "broken" at the end, but then again, is it really? After all, we're right back on the pitch where we started. I enjoyed the read very much. Kudos!
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Thanks. I had to channel a lot of what I heard in my life to create this one (and it was surprisingly easy to finish once I had the structure down).
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I like how the narrator (reeks of a dad) follows another prompt. They can't understand why he isn't following the script.
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Ah, you noticed that. It does 'reek' of a dad, mine actually. Only thing I heard when I looked at the prompt was his voice (another story for another time).
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Some great characterization in some of these passages. There's that repeated theme of "When I was a kid", the constant comparisons. The constant talking and not listening. I guess parents know better, until they don't. Or maybe we all get stuck in "how the world really works", which just happens to be how we personally experienced it. But there were some other great lines, like "and now he is going to marry one?" Fantastic. Other than that, even though the writing is just dialogue (monologue?) the action still comes through clearly. Even ...
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As soon as I saw the prompt, I heard my dad's voice. It had to be a set of monologues to be totally honest... Thanks.
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