Rip - Becoming Whole

Hard Work

Mr Dutton sighed. 'Patience John, patience!' he told himself. Breathing slowly, he tried to calm himself. Not to hide his feelings or stop himself from lashing out this time but to get a hold of himself and exercise acceptance. Suddenly what Samuel had tried to convey to him, and Regina had talked about earlier, about breathing and mindfulness slowly started to make sense. There was a difference. Deep down he always knew this, but it had been easier to dismiss it as new-age humbug.

The boy had hardly moved since Robert and Frank had left them alone. He had glanced over to him a few times but had made no effort to get up. He knew he was waiting for him and Mr Dutton recognised that he felt disrespected. He felt the boy was pressing his buttons. He didn't want to believe that Rip was nervous of him.

There was nothing more he wanted to do right now, than to walk in there and grab the insolent pup, marching him back to the house with a firm grip on his bicep or even better, his ear, but he didn't. Instead, he just waited. 

'Patience, John. Patience! Let him come to you, embrace him, no matter what state he is in', he kept telling himself, repeating words that Samuel had told to him to think. 'He's not making you angry on purpose,' he tried to convince himself.

He wasn't afraid of the horse. He had dealt with his fair share of unruly horses, and when it came to it, he would manage. Now that Frank was gone, he'd use a stick to keep the horse at bay if necessary. It would bring immediate results but would not foster the trust he would want to achieve in the long run. He knew it was the wrong thing to do for the horse as much as the boy, and even more so for himself. He didn't want to be like this, but it wasn't easy. His ways were different than that of his sons, and even Frank as it turned out. He asked himself what Frank would do if he'd ask him to assist him with a whipping today. He hoped he would tell him 'No'.

Being patient did not come natural to him, he used force all too often. He expected obedience, he accepted nothing less and didn't see anything wrong with it either.

"Rip's not responsible for your buttons, he didn't put them there!" his son had told him in the past. "Embrace him, welcome him in, no matter what state he is in. Let him be angry at you," Samuel had advised. That part still didn't make no sense to him. Why should he accept the boy's anger and bad attitude?

He had no idea why, but he suddenly had to think of the dog he owned as a child and his father giving out to him harshly, "you don't play chasing with a dog, John, or he'll think running away from you is what you want him to do. When he comes to you, you reward him, every time. This is not a game! And the dog is not a toy!" 

He was wondering if he should reward Rip. Samuel hated it when he talked about behaviour in that way. He wanted him to think in terms of emotions, always about emotions. "Carefully watch the boy. Watch out for how he is feeling, and that will tell you what he needs from you," his son had recommended to him over and over again, and he had thought he had listened. So much has changed and yet it still was not enough. 'Bloody feelings. That's easier said than done. How am I supposed to know how he's feeling when he is forever hiding his darn face? What am I supposed to do? Chop his bloody hair?' he asked himself.

Mr Dutton sighed. 'Breath John, breath. Patience, John!'

Eventually the boy sat up and sheepishly looked over to him. 'Dejected, that was the word Frank had used earlier. The boy looked dejected. He's expecting a bollocking, and god knows he deserves one,' Mr Dutton thought. Arms crossed in front of his chest, averting the boy's gaze he looked down onto the ground in front of him, and started to kick some stones around again, so that Rip couldn't see his annoyance.

He continued to wait for the boy to finally come over to him. As much as he wanted to tear into him, he knew it was not what Rip needed. He needed to accept that. What he needed was a reward, for coming over to him. But how do you reward a youngster for simply doing something that he should be doing anyway, that shouldn't be that big a deal in the first place? He used to carry bits of bacon in his pocket for his dog and his father scolded him for that too. "A little pat is all he needs," his father had told him.