Live and Die Hard

1. Father and Son.

Saturday.

"You're doing this damn wrong!"

He yanks the fishing rod from his son's hands and starts reeling the hooked fish back, lifting and pulling on the rod.

"That fucker is a big one." He grunts, fighting with Jack's catch, finally pulling it out of the water.

Jack has the net ready to pick up the fish, but John unhooks the wiggling fish, fighting for its life and throws it back to the river.

"What's the point with catch and release?" Jack asks, pretty pissed off to see their possibly dinner swimming away.
They're good for another awful undrinkable instant soup tonight.

"The point is to spend time together, not to kill innocent fish."

Jack sighs heavily, that father-and-son week-end in the middle of nowhere, stuck with the man who fathered him but was more a ghost than a dad, is turning into the worst idea of the century. As promised.

"Like you would give a shit. How many bad guys have you killed by now?" He snorted.

"You yourself just said. They were bad guys. Those fish did nothing wrong. "

Jack nods his head no, giving up.

"Well ... What's next? Did you plan to massage my feet or something?" He mocks.

"This is what the girls planned. We're men. We will down some beers and have a talk." John says, like there's something they're used to.

Jack grabs two beers from the cooler and throws one to his father.
He somehow would rather share the spa with his mother and sister than having a talk with his so called father.

"A talk? Since when do we talk?" Jack laughs.

"I know, we're not a very talkative family. But at least we could try." John says with hope.

"I often talk to Lucy and Ma. But... sounds weird to speak with you." Jack admits.

"Come on Jack, don't be shy to me. What's up?" John asks.

"Nothing new. The usual."

That lame attempt to line up more than 3 words sounds ridiculous and not natural at all.

"Great." John says, sipping his beer.
That's a good beginning. They never have shared so much.

A weird and uncomfortable silence settles down between the two men.

"Great, right." Jack concludes, downing half of his beer.
He could make it. Glancing at his watch, he quickly does his maths. 36 more hours and he would be free from this stupid tentative of reconciliation. If he manages to over sleep till noon tomorrow, the countdown would go faster.

"You live in a house?" John inquires.

"A flat. I'm away most of the time, remember?" Jack answers sarcastically.

"Safe exit? Outdoor stairs clear? Easy access to the roof top?" John questions.

"John... Beat it."
He suddenly regrets skipping to buy cigarettes. He doesn't smoke but he thought it could be a good occasion to start. He needs a smoke right now.

"Any girlfriend waiting for you at home?

"Really? John you're not ready for such a conversation."

"Fuck off! Son, I'm your dad. I'm ready for worse than talking about your damn girlfriend! I saved your little ass more than once in Russia.
Don't you want to open your heart to your old father before he dies? "