A Father's Answer

A Father's Answer

by Alex L. Mauldin

He took his son to the river. The thin dirt road bent and gave way to sparse grass, small flat stones and mud. The red sun just barely reached down to the trees, trying to find its way to the earth. The shadows swam slowly across the running water. The boy jumped from the truck as his father watched him go.

His mother must already miss him. He watched his boy stoop for a rock and then clumsily throw it overhanded towards the water. The river swallowed it whole with barely a notice. His eyes closed as he swam back to a memory. The weight of her body on his thighs. Her breasts pushed against his chest. Her head bent back. The only sounds were her breath, the rhythm of a dark river, and a cricket crying in the night.

His son was tapping on the window, trying to find his father's attention. He could throw a rock almost all the way across. Did his father see him try?

Forging a smile, his father stepped from the truck and asked him to find a good one so that he could try, too. The son dropped to his knees and dug out a fist-sized rock from the cold earth. It was smooth and nearly perfectly round. The boy wiped away the dirt and gave it to his father.

The stone was icy cold in his palm; its weight betraying its small size. Do you think I can do it? Yeah. Do you think I'm good enough? The old man behind the large, oak desk didn't answer. Sometimes change was necessary, he said. The world always moved on. If you couldn't move with it, you got left behind. Certainly you understand, don't you? This is nothing personal. It's just business.

Are you going to do it or not? The boy hadn't said a word, but his voice was ringing through his head. I guess I should. You guess? No son of mine will ever leave a woman to fend for herself with a child he helped create! No. You have to live with what you've made.

You can make it. The boy smiled at the stone clutched in his father's hand, then looked up into his father's unblinking eyes.

Daddy?

The river broke through and he turned and hurled the rock to the trees and through the sun. The boy was amazed at his father's strength. He'd never be that strong. Ever.

Can you do it one more time? There was no clear answer, just a slight nod. The boy turned to stoop for another stone, his hands searching for something worthy. His father reached into the truck's glove compartment for...

Daddy, when will I be strong enough to be just like you?

He didn't turn around as his father walked up behind him. He smiled as his father reached down to slowly stroke his hair, and he didn't cry when his father didn't have an answer.

Copyright © 1997 Alex L. Mauldin

Last update: 4/26/2005; 10:14:49 PM.