Rip - Becoming Whole

A Promise

Anger might be your friend when there are things that are unacceptable that need to be changed. Mr Dutton should have been no stranger to this and was surprised that he had needed his son to point that out to him. Some of his most remunerative, although, Samuel would argue morally most reprehensible moves in business were made only because of his anger and righteous indignation towards his adversaries.

Anger however is not your friend when you are trying to sleep, and this is something Mr Dutton had also plenty of experience with, which is why he decided to check on Rip before he was going to retire for a few hours himself.

He decided to bring Rip's porridge upstairs to him, just in case the boy was going to change his mind and decided that he wanted to go back to bed after he had eaten his breakfast. He placed the little bowl onto the little table in Robert's and Rip's shared living space and then quietly made his way to where Rip's bed stood in the right-hand corner at the end of the room, right beside the glass door that led out onto the balcony.

The boy lay in his bed, facing the wall, legs slightly pulled up, both his hands supporting his head under the pillow, he did not stir. The only sound that came from him was his even breathing. Mr Dutton frowned.

"I know you are not asleep Rip," he said sternly as he gently pulled the boy onto his back by his shoulder and sat himself down at the edge of the bed. Rip opened his eyes and sheepishly looked up at his uncle who a few months ago might have given out to him for trying to deceive him. "It's not for the want of trying, Papa. How do you always know?" he asked.

"You have a tell," the old man sniggered, and gave him a wink.

"I do? What is it?" Rip asked curiously. The fact that his uncle knew something about him; something he could pick up on, even in this low light; something he himself did not know about did not sit right with him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Mr Dutton chuckled and cupped the boy's chin between his fingers, giving it a little jiggle to elicit a smile of Rip.

But the action did not have the desired effect.

"Are you alright?" Mr Dutton asked in a concerned manner, when he realised that the boy no longer seemed angry but rather sad.

Rip nodded but pursed his lips and then turned his face away before rolling back onto his side to face the wall again.

"No, you're not. What is it son?" Mr Dutton tried again, placing his hand on the blanket that was covering Rip's shoulder but Rip just shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it, and pulled the blanket even higher up covering his face leaving only his curly mob of hair to be seen. "I'm just tired, Papa," he mumbled into the blanket.

Mr Dutton however knew that this was a lie or at least only a half-truth.

"You know they didn't mean to startle you, don't you?" Mr Dutton asked Rip, in the hope that what Jacob and Paul had told him had happened in the shed earlier was what was upsetting Rip. But Rip did not reply and just shrugged his shoulders again.

"Well, at least you're not angry anymore," Mr Dutton told him but secretively felt the exact opposite. It was exasperating. Why did the boy not just talk to him? Not for the first time he concluded that Angry Rip was a lot easier to deal with than Sad Rip. At least when Rip was angry, he didn't hold back and let everyone know what it was all about and where they could go with themselves. At least the angry Rip gave him something to work with, even if it was just something to reign him in about.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Rip said, remorsefully and surprised that his uncle had not yet started to lecture him about his behaviour earlier, but then maybe the new Mr Dutton was here to stay.