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sankahjang
USA
78 Posts |
 Posted - 26 Oct 2010 : 21:05:46
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An except from another short story called "Listen Son." This is page four of six pages.
The last time that my father took me somewhere was to that same old man he said could make anything happen. This time he told me where we were going and I was happy. I was thinking I could ask the man how he got his power but I remembered my mother told me not to bother people with questions. I also wanted to shake his hand this time without my father asking me to do so. While we were in the car going to the man’s place, I wanted to ask my father why the man with all his power did not dress like a president. But my father was not talking to me and his face looked like it was, the other day, when he had a quarrel with my mother.
Before we got to the old man’s home, I was thinking about how smooth his hand was and how he gently squeezed my hand the last time we were there. This time we went straight to the old man's hut. My father didn't let me get out of the car and I was mad because I wanted to shake the man's hand. He left the car running and went inside the hut. I didn’t cry because grandmother told me men don't cry for small things.
Later I heard loud voices from the hut. The old man was saying something and my father was saying “no that cannot happen!” This went on for a while then my father came out looking very angry. I never saw him like that. When he got in the car he slammed the door so hard that I got scared.
"What happened papa?" I asked nervously. He didn't say anything to me, he just kept driving. He called someone on his mobile phone just as we left the village and started talking with angry words. The other one was also talking loud because I could hear his voice from the phone. When my father hung up the phone he hit the steering wheel with both hands and said, "****, ****, ****." I counted three and I felt like putting my fingers in my ears. I knew that was a bad word because my mother told me never to say it. My father stopped the car and flew his head back and repeated those bad words. I was afraid at this time because when people are angry they can do stupid things like insulting someone’s mother and my grandmother said if you insult someone’s mother, it’s like you insulted your own mother.
My father started driving again straight home. At the gate he stopped and told me to get out and go inside. I jumped and opened the car door and walked in front of the car to the gate. He called me back and when I came he held my hand and looked at me. I cried because I thought he was going to beat me. Then he said "stop crying, I just want to tell you something." I wiped tears off my face and looked at him. He squeezed my hand gently like the old man did when we went there the last time. He looked down to his laps below the steering wheel then looked at me again. I never saw my father's tears until this time. He said to me "listen son," and he paused. "I want you to know that I love you so much and I want you to always be a good boy." I nodded in agreement. "Your mother is a good lady, always respect her and help her." I nodded again. "I am going to somewhere and I will be there for sometimes so tell your mother I love her so much okay." I nodded again and the remaining tears on my face dropped to the ground. My father then held my head and kissed my forehead and said “goodbye.”
The next day, I saw a lot of armies came to my home and when I asked my mother she said they were my father's friends. My grandmother came to stay with my mother and many other people came to my home looking sad. All these time my mother was crying. One time the armies took my mother in their car-it had a dark window-but she came back later. When too many people stopped coming to my home, I asked my grandmother about my father. At first she hesitated to talk. She held my hand like my father did before he left and rubbed my head few times and when I looked at her; she looked like she wanted to cry. I knew when she didn’t want to tell me something right away so I left her and went into the house to watch TV. Later when my mother was sleeping, my grandmother came in the house and sat beside me looking sad. She rubbed my head again and said, “You know your father was in the army, right?” I nodded. “Well, there was a problem in the army…” she said with slowness.
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