Father/Time

The view of the night sky from Hunter’s back patio was exceptionally dark on an unusually warm February evening. While his son was peacefully asleep upstairs, he was enjoying his usual Tuesday ritual with his closest friends, Rocky Patel, Evan Williams, and Pierce Brown. Although this was usually his small slice of time to himself, he found his thoughts racing about life, and his place in it. Today was his Dad’s birthday, and it was the first birthday Hunter would be without his dad since he passed away a few months ago. Shortly before his death, he would learn that his Dad had been hiding his alcoholism for the majority of his life, a secret that nobody ever would have expected from the friendly persona he had always put on. This revelation had caused a rift in their relationship, and he never got a chance to say his last words to the old man before he died.

“You doing ok honey?” Maria asked from the living room doorway. Startled, he jumped a little, which caused her to laugh. He hadn’t even noticed that she had opened the door to say hello.

“I’m…. ok” he answered, “having a hard time enjoying myself given, well, you know…” his voice trailed off. She rubbed his back and sat down in a chair next to him, and they sat together holding hands for a brief moment under the stars, with the ice from his glass of bourbon being the only thing to occasionally break the silence.

“Light Bringer again?” she asked after a few minutes, “you must be up to your hundredth read-through at this point”. He smiled as he looked at the worn book in his hand, “What can I say? Darrow is a badass, and I think his journey is inspiring. It brings me a small comfort on days like today. Also, how often do you get to read about a 7 foot tall…” 

“...planet conquering warlord that overtakes a fascist society” she finished the often repeated sentence for him, “I know honey. I’m glad it makes you happy, let’s just hope you don’t feel ‘inspired’ to start getting shot out of cannons in space any time soon” she said with a smirk. Her wit often got the best of him, but it was a quality of hers he couldn’t live without. “I’ve always been curious…” she trailed off, as if the need to ask came to her before she could finish the thought,  “It’s been a few months since your father passed away, and I know how hard it has been for you, but I can’t help but wonder what you would have said to him if you got the chance to? I feel your pain because I see it every day, but I feel like if you had the opportunity to speak your peace that it might have made things different for your mental health. So I guess what I’m asking is, if he was sitting here next to you right now, what would you say?”. 

The question hit him like a bag of bricks. He had asked himself the same question 1000 times, but still didn’t know how to put it into words, or even where he would begin. He finally answered her after a moment, “I don’t really know how to answer that, honey. I… desperately want to hate him, but I just can’t. I want to yell, and voice all of the frustrations I have with his secret life, but I also feel sad for him that he felt like he had to hide his demons from the world. I truly don’t know. I just have to accept the reality that no matter what I would say, I’ll never get the chance to.” he said with a lump in his throat. She squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked at him with nothing but sympathy and understanding in her hazel eyes, a look that made the pain seem somewhat smaller, if only for a moment.

“I hear you, and I want you to know that whatever you’re feeling is ok, and you take all the time you need to process this, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“What’s that?” he asked. She looked at the bottle of bourbon on the patio table with contempt and replied,

“Take it easy on the bourbon, yeah? I happen to enjoy it too and you never save me any punk” she said with a wink, which made him laugh like he hadn’t laughed in weeks, she had always been a master at making the weight on his shoulders feel lighter. “I’m heading off to bed, say goodnight to Darrow for me. Love you.” she said as she kissed his cheek.

“Love you too, I’m going to finish my cigar and then I’ll head up” he said to her as she went back inside for the night. He closed the book and decided to sit in thought for a while, with her question clinging to his mind like a bad itch. Not a day had passed in the past few months where he hadn’t thought about his Dad, and he desperately needed closure. As his thoughts spiraled, and the embers from the tip of his cigar started to ease, he found himself nodding off. He jumped awake after a few minutes, concerned with dropping a lit cigar on the wooden patio, and noticed something in the distance. A faint, but allusive light was sitting on shore of the lake, and it was calling to him like a beacon.

“What the hell is that?” he muttered to himself, and walked over to get a closer look. As he walked closer, his heart slowly started beating faster as the adrenaline kicked in, and a tingling sensation like lightning started surging through him. 

“Thump…thump…thump” he felt as he placed his hand on his chest, but decided to get closer. Curiosity overtook the feeling of fear as he continued walking

“THUMP…THUMP…THUMP” the feeling got stronger as he got closer, but there was no stopping now, he was no longer tired and had to know what this thing was before he could go to sleep. 

He finally arrived within a few feet of the light and he felt… calm. Bewildered, he took a closer look at what had been calling him through his backyard. What stood before him was a green, effervescent orb that was no bigger than the palm of his hand, and was floating a few feet off the ground. It gave off wisps of bluish green light and yet, he still felt no fear.

“What the HELL is this? Maybe I should take it easy on the bourbon after all” he said to himself. He had seen enough horror movies with Maria over the years to know that he should just turn around, run inside, and forget this ever happened. Yet he couldn’t, he stared in wonder for a moment, and slowly reached out his hand to grab it. As he did, his world around him suddenly vanished, and in its place was a swirling cloud of smoke. The cloud towered over him, spiraling out of control, with trails of blue and green catching his eye. It started closing in on him, until he was eventually engulfed, and the feeling of calm was no longer there. He put his arms over his head and knelt down, thinking that this was some terrible nightmare he had walked into until… it was suddenly over. He stayed on the ground with his eyes closed, too afraid to move, and eventually opened his right eye slightly to see what was going on around him, and what would happen next would change the course of his life forever.

The dirt road he walked along seemed endless, with the only light coming from the occasional streetlight that barely seemed to work. The “tornado” had transported him to what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, and his phone wouldn’t even turn on. After a while, headlights appeared from the top of a hill down the road, and were approaching him. Excited, he frantically waved down the driver to get his attention, only to notice something peculiar. As it pulled closer, the pristine Ford F150 seemed to have just been driven off the lot, and he had never seen a car that old in such great condition. The truck came to a stop next to him, and as the driver rolled the window down, he was looking at Hunter as if he’d just seen a ghost. He asked for directions to the nearest phone and the Driver told him to head south.

Hunter started walking south, confused and alone, hoping this was some strange dream after all, and that he would wake up next to his beautiful wife any minute now. Though that didn’t happen, and after what felt like an eternity of walking, a green, neon sign that read “Jake’s Tavern” popped into his view. Relieved, he walked into the bar ready to finally be done with this awful night, but realized that he was walking into a time capsule instead. A group of older men wearing “WWII Veteran” hats were at a table drinking together, Madonna was playing on the jukebox, and the TV above the bar was broadcasting a live speech by Ronald Reagan. He noticed a newspaper sitting on the bar and hurriedly ran over to take a look, and what he saw on the front page shocked him.

“September 4, 1985” he read the date quietly to himself, wondering if this was some cruel, cosmic joke. 

“You alright there sweetheart?” the bartender asked him without bothering to look away from the beer she was pouring.

“The date on this… is this right? Is this today’s paper?” he asked in a panic.

“Should be, unless Jerry was too hungover and forgot to switch them out this morning” she replied while walking over to another customer to hand them the freshly poured beer. “Can I get you a drink?” he heard the bartender, who he assumed to be Janice, ask. At least he thought he heard, her voice sounded as if it was a mile away, the confusion was too overwhelming to handle and he could feel his grip on reality fading away as he sat down.

“Why is this happening to me?” he mumbled to himself as Janice walked away, not before shooting a dirty look his way. He turned to get Janice’s attention so he could ask for a phone, but before he could say anything she was already in front of him with a shot of whiskey that she plopped in front of him angrily. “I didn’t order…?”.

“Compliments from the gentleman at the end of the bar, not like you need it…” she replied before he could even finish the question.

“Sounds like you need a little pick-me-up man, cheers” he heard the voice from a man sitting a couple seats away from him, a voice he recognized almost immediately. Surprised, he looked up to find a ghost, with a face that had haunted him for months. That face with deep set brown eyes, dark curly hair, and a beard thicker than his own, was his father. His dead father had just ordered him a drink, and was wearing a look of friendly concern. “I don’t know if you’re off your rocker, or just got knocked upside the head, but why don’t you sit down and cool off for a minute there bud” he said to him, his usually somber voice had a youthful cheer to it, and the dark gray bags under his eyes had vanished. Hunter’s heart started thumping in his chest again as the panic flooded through, he took his shot without a thank you, hoping it would in fact settle his spiraling a bit. The look on his younger Dad’s face shifted to confusion as he continued looking at him, “ya know, you look familiar. Have I met you from somewhere else?”. Hunter couldn’t let him know, even though this person was all too familiar to him, this version of his Dad had no idea who he was. He knew that trying to convince an otherwise stranger that he wasn’t insane, but was actually his own son from the future, would likely land him in a straightjacket. 

“You shouldn’t, I just got into town today” was all Hunter was able to muster, he looked away, still hoping he was imagining all this. Apart from the occasional beer, his Dad had hidden his drinking from friends and family, and the sight of him sitting at a bar alone weirdly put him at ease. His Dad simply nodded in return, and returned to watching Ronald Reagan’s speech, though his look of concern had turned into one of sadness. He always carried a heaviness in his eyes, as if life had weighed him down bit by bit, but this look didn’t carry the same weight to it like it did in his older years. Hunter noticed that he was fidgeting with his wedding, and a tidal wave of emotions hit him as thoughts of his Mom and how she must have dealt with a lifetime of nights like these, being left alone so her husband could sneak away to the bar. He remembered his childhood and how he could always sense something was off, and thought of a way to start a conversation. “Looks like you needed a little pick-me-up yourself?” he said to his Dad as he gestured at his wedding ring, which caused him to stop fidgeting with it. 

“You could say that” he chuckled, “We’ve been ‘disagreeing’ a lot these days and I just needed a drink, she gets mad when I keep beer in the house”. He stared at the half empty pint glass for a while and kept talking, “We have a baby on the way, she’s due in a few months and I haven’t exactly been handling it very well. My dad and I never got along, and I’m scared I’ll be a shitty father as well, clearly.” he raised his beer as he finished. 

“I have a little boy, he just turned 4 a few months back. He’s home sleeping peacefully as we speak,” Hunter said with a smile. “I was sitting in the exact place you were at one point, I understand where you’re coming from”. He let the words hang in the air for a while as thoughts of home warmed him with comfort. As a lump formed in his throat, the words started coming to him easily. “When I was a kid, my dad was around but was always distant from us. When I tried to ask him questions about life or even try to get him to open up to me, he would always brush me off. At a certain point, my old man started answering my questions with one phrase; ‘Son, one day you’ll understand’”. It killed me everytime, but as time went on I just accepted it. Before my son was born, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I wouldn’t be enough, that I would fail this little kid. He came along and it got a little better, but I still carry the feeling with me to this day.” His Dad was making full eye contact with him now, intent on hearing what else he had to say. “I lost my dad a little while ago, and shortly before he died we found out he had been living a secret life. It ruined us, all of us actually. I couldn’t help but start feeling guilty, as if I had somehow been a reason for his failures, and it started affecting my own parenting. I never got a chance to speak my peace with him, but I think I finally realized his answer he would tell me all these years”. He looked over at his Dad with a tear in his eye, “I finally understand… Being a man is difficult, raising a child is life-changing, and being a good husband is a 24 hour a day job. I finally see that nobody will ever truly understand the burden of those responsibilities except yourself… but I now understand that I can’t let those burdens stand in the way of life. I know where you’re coming from, so if nobody has ever told you this before, I believe in you”.

With that, the tingling sensation from earlier that night had returned, and his heart started thumping yet again, he couldn’t escape the feeling that his time had come. He put a hand on his Dad’s shoulder as he got up to leave, “sorry to dump all that on you, you would never believe the night I”m having”. He reached out for a handshake, “Good luck to you” he said, and made his way over to the door. His Dad was confused that a total stranger would open up the way he did, but assumed it was just another drunken interaction at the bar.

As he walked into the parking lot, he saw the orb again in the instance, his body tingling greater than it was before. He walked with a sense of relief for the first time all night, as he felt he was finally able to move on from his mourning. He finally realized that his Father wasn’t ever a Monster, just a scared man that let the fear of disappointment dictate the way he lived his life, and the fear eventually won. He hoped his words could give that same man a chance to try again, maybe not for his own life, but for the life of his past self that would soon be born. The orb grew brighter as he walked closer, and Hunter was finally able to go back home as a proud man with a new sense of purpose.