Top Dogs

Researching, fighting and the clever things people say

 Ricky

“What? Who is this?” My father’s demanding voice still sounded the same after four years. “Really? You have to ask? I just said hello dad. Considering I am your only son, I think the answer should be pretty obvious.”

“Ricky.” He practically growled my name, which is understandable since he never liked me once I had developed a personality. “Hey Dad.” I forced nonchalance into my voice even though on the inside I was an emotional storm. Everything I ever felt about my father was coming back all at once. My hand was trembling as I held the phone. “What do you want?” I fought back a bitter laugh. His carelessness evident in his harsh tones. “A little help from my dear old daddy.” Instead of sounding like a father and son we sounded more like a kidnapper asking for a ransom. “You threw away my help when you ran away” I bit back my anger. I ran away because my father’s business was not something I wanted to be involved in. And because of my father himself. Constantly pushing me to be the best, teaching moral values that in my opinion, we’re way off track. All my father ever was was a power hungry bastard. “I never had your help.” He didn’t bother to bite back the bitter laugh that followed.  “Then why should I help you now?” I knew what would make my father help me. If I pleaded. If I crawled like a baby asking for his help. Great, so I was faced with a choice. Me or my friends. “Because,” I took a deep breath, practically grinding my next words out, “I need you; please, I need your help.” I could see the smug smirk plastered across his face.  “Do you now? Well I can’t say that I’m not curious, what do you need my help with?” Encouraged by his curiosity, I continued. “Just this thing.” Instantly I regrated my choice of words. My father hated vagueness and procrastination. Shit. I tried to redeem myself by explaining. “There is this weird mutant—it’s white, bald it doesn’t have any eyes or nose, and its mouth is held together by skin. No one has ever heard of it. Can you tell me what it is?” I placed my words so carefully, something I am hardly used to. He paused for a second. “Tell why I should?” Urg. I hated this about my father. Once he had you in his palm, you were stuck. Unless you could pry his fingers open and escape. I bet you he wouldn’t even tell me. “Because it is important.”  Ah, crap I was so not getting information.  “Important? That’s a bit unspecific.” I just wanted to run straight first into a brick wall. “Yes. Important, father, do you not understand the word?” Getting impatient, I snapped. There was no way in hell I will get an answer. “I thought you wanted my help?”

“I did. But talking to you was so not worth it.” I could see the image of my father. His thinning blonde hair glistening in the harsh light that his office provided. I saw the scowl that he wore so often when he was around me. He looked so much like me, same green eyes and handsome features; it was weird to think how different our personalities were different. “I thought you needed my help, son? You can’t be that desperate if you have already snapped at me.” It’s not that hard to snap at my father. “Dad, are you going to help me or not?” I held back a frustrated groan. I had let my father get to me. Then I seriously just pissed him off. He hated when you yelled or got impatient with him, the filthy hypocrite. I had let him get to me; I had snapped and been impatient. I waited in silence for the shit storm that was coming. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that you little bastard.” He hissed at me through the phone. Dislike so evident in his deep voice. I clenched my fist around the phone, nearly snapping the wafer thin telephone. I was doing everything I could not to let my anger show. “You think you are always right, but tell me this, son. Who has been more successful, huh? You blew your chance at following in my footsteps when you ran away; you could have been rich and successful just like your father, but no. You think that you are the hero, sticking up for the nobodies. Well here is a newsflash son, NOBODY CARES!” He screeched the words through the phone, making me flinch. Then very quietly I said; “I care.” I could hear him snort through the phone. “Oh, how touching. And where are you now, son? On the streets I betch’ya. Probably calling me through one of those pay phones they leave around the city. Well I’ll find you son, I have the most technologically advanced system in the world. Just wait one more second…” I could hear my father asking one of his many servants and ‘helpers’ around the house (or mansion) for a location. I couldn’t help but smile, hoping my smugness was evidence in my tone of voice. “Let me guess, no location available?” I could see my father huddled around the thin screen that covered the wall in his study. I grinned even more when I thought about the computers emotionless voice telling him. “Sorry, Dad, but I think I may have surpassed your expectations. Most technologically advanced system in the country, huh Dad? Well here’s a newsflash dad, NOBODY CARES!” I hung up the phone, smiling at the fact that I had one up on my father. My smile soon wiped off my face when I realised that I had no information whatsoever. Groaning, I put the phone back on the receiver and headed downstairs to report back.