A Starting Point

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE- I AM NOT YOUR SON

Davies

'I'm not your son, Mister Mitchell!' I can't even pronounce that damn word.
- I know and I do not intend to make him see me as a father. But, I want you to feel loved by me and my wife.
“Thanks, but when I grow up, I'm gone and I won't look back.
“When you grow up, I hope you'll be a good man, Davies. That would be enough to make me happy. Will you be a good man?
- I don't know. I'm just a boy. I haven't grown up enough to know if I'll be good or not.
“You act like you've grown up to be a bitter man. You are a boy who speaks little, but when he does, he seems to be about a hundred years old and carries the world on his shoulders. You are only twelve years old. Four years have passed since that happened and whenever I look at you, I see that you seem to relive that scene every day. This is not good. Your body is not old, but your heart grows old every day, Davies, and so do your words.
- Do not call me like that! Only her and that bastard called me that. And I don't understand what all this sermon is for. All this just because I broke Charlie's nose?
"For that and for you taking your anger out on your friends."
- What friends? I don't know if you noticed, but I don't have any. I can't stand school. My teachers look at me like I'm a stray dog and the other kids... They think I don't see them when they whisper. I even hear them. Do you know what they say? That I don't talk much because I got a mental problem after Wilson beat me until I lost consciousness. They speak for me to listen, Calvin. And Charlie has teased me since the other years. And today, he hit me with the ball and when I didn't say anything, he called me a "bastard, son of a bitch". And then, I knocked him to the ground and broke his nose with every punch I could throw. My mother wasn't a whore, Calvin. I will not allow him or anyone else to say that of her.
Calvin took a deep breath, straightened his posture on the bench and looked at some children playing in the square.
I felt safe with him. I just couldn't say. I couldn't show it and at the same time that I felt that way, I wanted him away from me. I wanted people not to see me. I wanted to be invisible. Lock myself in a room and wait for death to come, but Calvin wouldn't let that happen. I just wanted him to give up on me and let me slowly die, drowning in my sadness.
I was twelve and it felt like I had lived a lot longer. If life was what I'd lived up to then, I didn't want it.
Calvin turned his face toward me, looked at my shirt stained with the blood I'd taken from Charlie, and put a hand on my shoulder.
“I'm sorry he said that and I'm sorry for what you go through. I wish I could take him out of school and pay for private lessons, but I can't...
"I don't want you to spend money on me." I don't want anything from anyone. The only thing I want is to be able to find that miserable man and kill him.
"Don't say that, Davies...
- Do not call me like that! I yelled, taking his hand off my shoulder.
“It's okay, William. But killing him won't bring her back.
“If nothing can make her come back, then it doesn't matter what I do or don't do. Ultimately, she doesn't come back.
"Good God... Why can't you act like a child?" Why don't you cry, William? Since that day, you never cried. Have you tried screaming and getting out everything you've got inside? For God's sake, cry and vent to me. Tell me about your pain, but don't do what you're doing now. Don't discount all that shit in your future. Why are you like this, son?
I tried to answer your questions. I tried! But, the only thing I could say in that moment was “I don't have a fucking father.” I said the last word, in disgust.
I got up and went home.
That day I didn't talk to him or Eva again. I didn't go down to dinner and I didn't sleep. That day I asked myself why I didn't cry, but the only answer my mind gave was, "because you don't have a heart anymore".
So I covered myself and waited for the day to clear.