ANCHOR

Clark

~ Chapter 1 ~

Clark

A cabin made entirely of wood separated the river from the forest. The windows began to lit up as two silhouettes moved inside. Henry moved to the kitchen and started cooking their dinner. He grabbed a chopping board when clark grabbed a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and watched his dad cook. 

"What?" Henry asked.

"Do we have a visitor tonight?" Clark asked as Henry's face began to frown in confusion. "Dad, that's more than enough for both of us."

"Oh. That." Henry said as he nodded. "Just get upstairs and take a shower. You're starting to stink man." he said grinning. 

"They better taste delicious!" Clark said as he ascended to the stairs. "and hey! I don't stink."

He always loved it when his dad cooks or rather he always loved what his dad cooks. It's been a long time since he cooked. Most of the time they would order pizza or burger from the nearest restaurant and watch movies after eating. Henry would usually sleep at the climax of the movie and Clark had to tuck his dad in. This time Clark wondered how this night would end. He entered his room, took his towel and headed to the bathroom. He was surprised of his own reflection since he went tan a couple of weeks ago. His skin tone suits his dark brown hair and fallow brown eyes. Clark loved taking a shower after a long day. He loved it when droplets of water would feel warmer as they glide to his feet. Sometimes he would shut out and just stand in the shower doing nothing. 

"Clark! Dinner's done already." Henry came knocking to his door. "What are you playing with the flashlight or something?"

"What?" Clark asked confusingly.

"I said dinner's ready . . . and stop playing with the flashlight." 

"I'm coming dad!"

"Get your lazy ass down here buddy." Henry responded with a laugh.

Clark forgot how fast time was. He shoved in his shirt and went downstairs. Clark began to remember his dad's question a while ago. "Why would I play with a flashlight?" he thought to himself. He could hear the plates clattering in the kitchen and descended hurriedly.

"Tonight, we camp outside." said Henry as he hugged the bowl of caesar salad and opened the front door with his right shoulder.

"What's all with the healthy food?" Clark said as he grabbed the other plates and the bucket with their beverages inside.

Clark stepped outside the porch and felt the cool breeze gently touching his cheek. It was cooler than some other nights but it was pleasant. He saw Henry hammering three long and skinny driftwoods about two to three meters long.

"Hey Dad, what's that?" 

"Isn't it obivous? It's a tent!" he responded with a chuckle.

"Wait! dad it would br. . . ." Clark warned just as henry hammered the driftwood. He saw how his dad hammered it but it didn't break. 

"Aren't you gonna bring the food here? I'm hungry." 

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." 

Clark skidded his way to Henry. His dad was impressed of his improvised tent. Henry spread out two table cloths. He placed one under the driftwood and another over it. He also gathered twigs, branches, coconut shells and flint rocks.

"So i'm guessing you're gonna make a bonfire?" Clark asked.

"Nope. We are. Come on, help me on this."

Clark paused for a moment. He had twigs, branches, coconut shells and flint rocks. Henry is in charge of the flint rocks. So he grabbed some twigs and branches, formed them to a little bonfire and ripped of the coconut fibers from their shells and placed them on top of the branches.

"Good Job. How did you guess that's how I make bonfires?" 

"Cause I'm your son?"

Henry bursted out laughing and Clark did too. They talked about everything under the moon as the bonfire made cracking sounds. After eating, they laid on their backs and watch the moon peeking in the driftwood. Clark did want to ask again about his mother but he wouldn't risk to break the momentum. He had a lot of questions about his mom. How she looked. When her birthday was. When she met Henry. Just a lot of stuff. Henry noticed his son's silence. He knew Clark was thinking about his mother again. Henry didn't want to talk about it, but he knew one day he would need to. Henry made a fake yawn just to break the ice. 

"Aren't you sleepy yet?" asked Henry.

"A little bit." Clark said as he supported himself with his right elbow facing Henry. 

"Go upstairs and sleep kiddo." 

Clark was surprised. He raised his left hand and pressed the back of his palm on Henry's neck. 

"You don't have fever don't you?" Clark asked with a grin on his face.

Henry took Clark's hand and rubbed his son's head with his palm. Clark got up and grabbed the plates. He went to the kitchen sink and placed the dishes there. He somehow couldn't believe what got into his dad, but he liked him that way. He went upstairs and crawled to his bed. He loved the warmth his comforter gives off. It was the best night he ever had with his dad. A little later he felt someone opening his door. He turned to see henry. He got up and watched his dad's silhouette approaching him. 

"Can't sleep." Henry asked 

Clark shook his head in response.

"Look. I'm sorry if I haven't talked about your mother for a long time."

"No. It's okay dad. No need to worry about it."

"It's not okay alright. You deserve better than this."

"As long as I have you I deserve nothing more, dad."

He hugged his dad. Henry returned the hug but it was tighter than what Clark gave.

"You alright?" Clark asked worriedly.

"I'm fine." Henry said as a smile emerged from his face. " You go to bed now kiddo." said henry as he tucked Clark in his bed and kissed his forehead.

"I love you dad."

"I love you too son."

The last thing Clark saw was his father closing the door. He imagined how that night could get any better and he drifted away to sleep.