A Soldier's Guide to Single Parenting - 4. Stormy Weather

Tom at work was right after all. On Monday, as he predicted, the City Council announced sweeping cuts and a number of job losses across all departments. It was a relief to discover my job wasn’t one of them and I celebrated with a few of the other survivors at Mario’s bar that evening. I was begrudgingly forced to admit maybe Tom did have some inside knowledge and I bought him a drink before retreating to a cubicle with Sandra.

Tom’s misogynistic nature kept him away from the opposite sex but I was becoming increasingly fond of the lady from the press office. Her happy-go-lucky approach was a refreshing antidote to the stress at work and my difficult home environment.

She was a pretty face and easy to talk to, but Monday set a pattern for the rest of the week and it was Friday before I was able to drive my car home again. I needed it over the weekend and didn’t fancy having to go back to work on Saturday morning to collect it. However, with my alcohol intake severely limited and lacking the cover of darkness, my early arrival left me exposed. I was an easy target for my ever-vigilant neighbor, Fred. He had an update on the fence which I wasn’t keen on hearing.

“I saw two kids climbing through the hole in the fence last weekend. I’m telling you Jeff, they’re breaking into houses along here.”

“Was it Saturday night, just after midnight?”

“That’s right, did you see them?”

“No, Fred. I was asleep.”

He scratched his head. “Well, I got a shotgun indoors so the next time I see….”

“NO! Don’t shoot them, whatever you do. I’ll have a word with them, I mean, if I happen to see anyone trying to break in that is.”

“You okay, Jeff?”

“Just tired. I’ll take a look at the fence tomorrow and see if I can fix that stupid hole once and for all. As long as you promise not to shoot me?” He didn’t, but I wasn’t planning to fix the fence either so we were back at stalemate.

It was too hot outside for physical work and it wasn’t much better indoors. There was a fan in the living room where Bobby and his friend were watching TV, but I followed my nostrils to the kitchen where I could smell something nice cooking. Something spicy. It reminded me of Kate’s meals.

“What’s cooking, good-looking.” It wasn’t Suzanne though. “Oh, Simon, sorry. I thought you were my daughter. From out there, I mean. You don’t look like her up close.”

He giggled. “I know. David asked me to prepare a meal. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind? Of course not. You can cook whenever you want. As long as I get to eat some. It smells good, is that chili?”

We were joined by a very smart-looking Suzanne dressed like she was about to go out. “Hi Dad, Simon cooked last night too but you were a little too tired to eat when you got home.”

I took her word for it; I couldn’t remember anything from the night before.

“I didn’t know he could cook. I mean, really cook. Not like the stuff you make.”

“Thanks, Dad. Have you been drinking or is that a silly question?”

“I had a couple, that’s all. To avoid the traffic. Are you going out? It’s not even seven o’clock?”

“Yes, Daddy.” She kissed me on the cheek. “And it’s eight thirty.”

“Is it that boy again?” I said tapping my watch and raising it to my ear.

“Robert, you mean? Yes.”

I smiled. “You're seeing a lot of each other lately.”

“It’s only our second date, Dad. But thanks for paying attention.”

“Right. Where’s that son of mine?”

“Bobby’s watching TV.”

“No, the other one.”

“Jon’s out.”

“The other one.”

“David’s still at work,” said Simon. “He called earlier to tell me he’d be late.” David and work in the same sentence was music to my ears, but Simon made it sound quite strange.

“When did you guys get married then?” It was supposed to be a joke but you wouldn’t have known it from his expression. “I was joking,” I said, and Simon forced himself to laugh.

I put it down to his religious upbringing. I knew they had very strict rules governing marriage and they didn’t believe in same sex relationships. I probably offended him but sooner or later, he was going to have to start living in the real world.

“Have you heard anything from your family since you left?”

“No.”

“Do they even know that you're staying here?”

“Probably.”

“Don’t you think you should at least let your mom know where you are? She must be worried, surely?”

“My mom’s not there, just my dad and he has your number, he could have called if he was worried, there’s always someone here.”

He was right, there was always someone here and it was usually him. I felt sorry for the kid and I couldn’t understand how his father could be so uncaring about his only child. He was just sixteen, too young to be forced to leave home.

“What about your clothes and stuff?” He had been sharing David’s wardrobe for a week but refused my offer to go over there and collect his own.

He was obviously scared of his father and to an extent that went way beyond the usual acceptable boundaries. I used to be scared of my old man when he was angry, but Simon showed signs of genuine fear whenever someone mentioned his dad. The kind of fear I had seen on men’s faces before and during battle but never on a kid.

It disturbed me and I had this nagging urge to go to his house and demand some answers from this so-called man of God. I wanted to see how tough he was when faced with someone who could and would hit him back.

Simon’s spicy chili helped to take my mind off his dad and some of David’s hard earned cash softened the financial blow but it provided them with only a temporary reprieve and a situation which had been simmering for a week was about to boil over.

*     *     *

“I want you to be honest with me, Jon. What do you think of Simon?” My son wasn’t expecting that question but it was difficult for him to ignore me as I drove him to his game the following day.

“Simon?”

“Yeah, you remember? The tall skinny kid who’s staying with us?”

“I know who he is, Dad. But I don’t understand your question.”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you don’t like him all of a sudden and I wanna know why.”

“No reason.”

That answer always bothered me. There was a reason for everything and Jon wasn’t the type to take a dislike to someone without good cause. I turned to face him as we sat at the light. He was a poor liar and unable to hide his nerves.

“I told you I wanted the truth, Jon.”

“He’s been acting kinda weird lately, that’s all. He’s changed.”

“In what way? How is he weird?” He was clearly uncomfortable, fidgeting in his seat and sweating as he stared at me. I wasn’t expecting him to be so spooked. After all, he had known Simon for years. “You can tell me. Whatever it is. I won't tell anyone you told me.” He swallowed hard and looked like he was about to spill the beans when the car behind us began honking. The light was green but after winding down my window to give him a mouthful, the moment was lost.

Before the game, I got a chance to talk to the coach. I knew Simon used to play for the team a couple of years back, before his dad made him leave and the coach knew them better than most.

“Simon’s a troubled kid,” he said. “He wanted to play and he had promise but his dad thought we were a bad influence on him. It’s was a real pity because Simon has a good arm. He just needed a little work in the gym and he would have been in the team. I would have used him as a starter but they wouldn’t have it.”

“They?”

“His church. They have the final say on everything. They’re real draconian.”

“Well, his dad slugged him pretty good in the face on Saturday night and then kicked him out. He’s been staying at our house since.”

“It doesn’t surprise me. The kid turned up here a few times with injuries that he didn’t get playing sports. I even reported it once but nothing happened. He always told me it was an accident but I could tell he had been hit. The boy isn’t the type to get into fights. You know what I mean?” I knew exactly what he meant and I was starting to regret not bothering to find out sooner.

“Maybe I should call the police?”

“I’d be careful if I were you. That religion… They’re weird. It’s a cult. It’s like they live in the past. They believe in the Old Testament word for word and there’s no leeway. They have their own laws and don’t take too kindly to outsiders meddling.”

“Thanks, coach. I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Anytime, Jeff. How about the annual club fee, how’s that coming along?”

“I’ll have it for you next week, that’s a promise.” I patted him on the side of the arm but he stopped me as I walked away.

“Aren’t you gonna stay to watch the game?”

“I wish I had the time, I really do.”

“Jon’s getting good, a little support would go a long way.”

He was right but the coach, like most people, didn’t understand. Time was as valuable to me as money and both were in short supply. I still needed to do the weekly shopping and Simon had given me a list of things to buy. Earlier that day—impressed with his culinary skills—I had promoted him to temporary cook. It would be his way of contributing to his keep and take some of the pressure off an increasingly tired looking Suzanne.

When I arrived home, Fred was ready to pounce.

“There’s gonna be a storm tonight. Torrential rain.” Fred was an amateur meteorologist but prone to exaggeration. This time, however, his story had been confirmed by the WRKO weather wizard and I could already feel the damp in the air.

“We sure could use a storm. It’s been too humid.” I was happy to talk about the weather but I suspected the conversation was heading back to the fence as he followed me to the front door.

“Have you got a minute, Jeff?”

“Not right now Fred, I’m kinda busy. I’ll take a look at the fence tomorrow.”

“It’s not about the fence.” His voice was low and his tone serious.

“Tomorrow, Fred. I promise.”

“It’s about the kid who’s staying with you, David’s friend.” I had my key in the lock and froze.

“Simon, you mean?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is he in some kinda trouble?” I opened the door and turned to face the old man.

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Two guys were looking for him earlier. They knocked at my house first by mistake and showed me a photograph of him. I think they were cops. Plain clothes.”

“Geez, what did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t recognize the kid in the photo. I wanted to have a word with you first.” I patted him on the arm.

“You did the right thing, Fred. Thanks.”

“Yeah, well they knocked on your door afterward but no one answered. I knew he was in, though, because I saw him looking out the window.” Not much got by Fred’s watchful eyes but I suspected those guys weren’t cops.

“Thanks, Fred. Can you do me a favor and let me know if you see them around here again? Oh, and don’t worry, I don’t think they were cops. They’re probably religious freaks from the church up on Franklin Drive.”

I left him confused on the doorstep and headed to the study for a glass of the hard stuff. My first of the day but I needed it to help me think straight. It seemed like Fred’s nosy nature had finally paid dividends. If I was right with my hunch and those men were from the church, then it was a different story from the one the boys had fed me.

Simon was on his own in the kitchen preparing dinner. It was a perfect opportunity to get some answers from him.

“I heard there were some people looking for you earlier, were they from your church?”

At first, he seemed shocked. Probably wondering how I knew and he waited a couple of seconds before confirming my statement. It was a good start and I was relieved he had decided to tell me the truth.

“One of them was my dad. But I didn’t answer the door.”

“Look, Simon, I can understand why you don’t want to talk to him. But maybe he came to apologize?”

“No, he didn’t. That’s not what they do.”

“Well, they’re obviously looking for you. Don’t you think you should at least let them know you're okay?”

“They’re not worried about me. They want to take me home.”

“So what’s the problem? Why don’t you wanna go? I thought they threw you out?”

“They want me back so they can control me,” he said. “So I won't talk to people and embarrass them.”

This was a slightly different version from the one I’d been told previously but it still didn’t make much sense. I got the feeling he was holding something back. Something important. Whatever it was, he was determined to keep it from me.

“David told me they threw you out, now you're telling me they want you back.”

“David doesn’t understand how they work. I should’ve realized he would come looking for me. My dad’s pissed because he’s lost his place as an elder.”

“So what are you planning on doing? You can’t hide from him forever. And I don’t want David getting caught up in this. He’s been through a difficult time with his mom. Now he’s just got his life together, found himself a girlfriend. He doesn’t need your problems on top.”

“A girlfriend?” Simon looked amused.

“Hasn’t he told you?”

“Nope, that’s definitely news to me.” I didn’t see the funny side.

When I went outside to fetch the shopping bags from the car, I noticed the first drops of rain. The sky had darkened as the storm clouds gathered overhead. I would have to pick up Jon early. The game would be rained out for sure.

“What did I tell you?” Fred was sitting on his porch smiling at me as the rain picked up, bouncing off the roof of the car.

It was nothing like as intense as the monsoons in Vietnam but bad enough to soak me as I ran to the house and back with the shopping bags. Then after closing the back door, I dropped my keys and had to kneel down in a puddle to reach under the car. It was another mistake.

*     *     *

“What happened to your hand?”

I was still angry as Jon shut the passenger door. “That stupid cat from next door attacked me. It was under the back of the car.”

Jon thought it was funny but the crazy tom had clawed me good and then ran off before I could retaliate.

“He doesn’t like you, Dad.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“He’s fine with everyone else. It’s only you he hates.”

Maybe he can read my mind? I had been trying to think of ways I could kill it for some time.

“How did the game go?”

“I was wondering if you were gonna ask me. We were winning before it started to rain. I batted in one of the runs but struck out twice.”

“But you're in the team regular now. That’s gotta be good. And you have to remember, it’s the team that wins, not just the guy who hits the home runs. You have to be a team player to get anywhere in this world. You know that, right? Nobody gets to the top on their own.”

“Yes, Dad. Like you’ve told me this a thousand times already.” I would probably go on to tell him a thousand times more as well. It was my army training showing through. They wanted team players rather than individual heroes and the same principle applied in civilian life.

We made it home just before the storm hit, but with everyone forced to stay in it was looking like a testing evening. The bottle was an effective buffer but my habit was proving costly and fast becoming unsustainable. There were several unopened bills on my desk that needed to be paid and I threw them in the garbage before taking my youngest upstairs to bed.

“Dad, I’m frightened.”

“There’s nothing to be frightened about, Bobby. It’s just a bit of wind. It won't hurt you.” As I spoke the room lit up with a bolt of lightning and my son’s head disappeared below his sheet as he waited for the inevitable crash of thunder. I laughed it off to show him there was nothing to be scared of. But the dog was crying downstairs and Bobby soon joined in as I pulled his curtains closed and knelt down beside his bed.

“I wish Mommy was here.”

What can you do to comfort a six-year-old when he says something like that? I wished she were still there too. Not a single day went past without me wishing that.

“Well, you know Mommy’s watching you, don’t you? And she doesn’t want you to be scared.” I stroked his hair as tears rolled down his cheeks. “There’s no reason to cry,” I said. But it wasn’t about the storm and we both knew it.

“Do you want me to sit with him for a while? They’re watching the game downstairs.” Suzanne was standing in the doorway. My angel, I didn’t even know she was there.

“I think he’s okay now. I’m going downstairs, Bobby. You're gonna be a good soldier for me?” Kate hated me using that expression on the boys when they were younger. She hated everything army and didn’t like me to even mention it in front of the kids. I guess she had a point; it wasn’t a particularly good thing but for years it was all I knew.

Bobby nodded from the comfort of his bed. “That’s a boy.” I kissed him on the forehead and struggled to my feet. On the way downstairs there were another two flashes followed by rolling thunder and I could hear him crying again. This time Suzanne was with him but I stopped halfway to make sure he was okay.

I envied his tears. The war had left me devoid of emotion and I didn’t know why. A self-protection mechanism maybe; I wasn’t sure. I could feel sadness and sorrow but I couldn’t cry.

I had other ways of dealing with sorrow and one of them was locked in my desk in the study. I poured half a glass of bourbon and held it up against the light to study the amber liquid as I listened to the boys bickering in the next room. This time it was baseball and the argument was quite tame. Recently relations had become strained between my two eldest sons and Simon seemed to be the catalyst for these frequent and sometimes violent disturbances.

It was a pattern I noticed even when drunk. David and Jon were fine on their own but when Simon entered the fray, the atmosphere changed. From the open door, I could see them watching the game; it was a west coast one against San Francisco. Jon was a Red Sox fan like his old man. But David wasn’t much into sport and would always cheer for the opponents to get under his brother’s skin.

It was relatively calm because Simon was upstairs taking a shower. But soon that would change and I waited for things to heat up as I poured my second glass.

The moment Simon came downstairs in a pair of shorts and t-shirt; Jon’s eyes were on him. Following him around the room until he sat down on the other side of the couch to David. There were some words exchanged between the friends and a few giggles, which annoyed Jon who walked over to the television and turned up the volume. That was how it started, but it ended as usual in a shouting match. If I hadn’t been there it would have progressed to a fight.

That night I ended up dragging Jon up the stairs by his arm, throwing him into his room and slamming the door shut on him. I could hear him crying as I stormed downstairs to talk to David.

“You saw what he did, right?” said David. What I had seen was a very irate young man throw a baseball as hard as he could at his brother’s head, missing him by inches. “He nearly took my head off with that.”

If he could throw like that for the team, then they would be heading for the playoffs instead of propping up the Junior League. When I mentioned this to David he stormed off into the kitchen leaving me with Simon.

“Looks like it’s just me and you, kid.” I was drunk and he had a right to be nervous. “Why doesn’t Jon like you, Simon?”

“I dunno.”

“Have you had a fight or something?”

“No.” We weren’t getting very far and I was becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of answers. I poured myself a drink and sat back in my recliner as David returned.

“Simon’s dad was here today; did he tell you?”

He looked panicked and turned to his friend. “No.”

“Two of them knocked on the door but he didn’t answer. They knocked next door too.”

“I was going to tell you,” said Simon but David looked concerned.

“What did they want?”

Simon shook his head as beads of sweat trickled from his forehead. “I don’t know. They probably want me to go home.”

“You can’t do that.”

Simon looked resigned. “Eventually, I will have to. I can’t stay away forever.”

“If you go back then he won't allow you to come over here anymore. I don’t think you should go.” For once, I agreed with my son. I was happy for Simon to stay; especially now I knew he could cook. I just wanted to see him get along with Jon a bit better.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do,” I said. “Tomorrow morning I’m going to visit your dad and ask him for your clothes. Maybe I can find out what’s going on.” The boys turned to me in panic.

“No,” said David.

“Simon doesn’t have to come with me. He can stay here with you.” I thought it was a reasonable solution. The boy had no clothes or possessions other than what he arrived with and I couldn’t afford to start buying him stuff. I was sure anyone else would have jumped at such an offer but Simon tried to talk me out of it.

“He won’t be there tomorrow; he goes to church.”

“Then I’ll go when he gets back.”

“He won't like you showing up at the door unannounced.”

“Well it’s too bad, that’s what they do to everyone else.”

“But they’re trying to save people.”

“Why don’t you want me to talk to your old man?” I looked at Simon, then at David and finally at Suzanne who had come downstairs in her dressing gown. They all seemed to have the same worried expressions but neither would answer me. “Okay, what was the real reason why you had to leave, Simon?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Didn’t he bother to tell you why he was upset with you?”

“Dad, please, I already told you,” said David but I put my hand up to stop him.

“I wanna help you, Simon, but I need you to tell me the truth first. You’ve given me no option.” He looked at David who followed me out into the kitchen.

“Dad, it’s a difficult situation, you don’t understand.”

“I will soon.”

Next to the phone on the wall was a notebook. Kate had spent an entire day once carefully writing down phone numbers of friends, relatives, doctors, and schools. She had the most beautiful handwriting and to me it was a work of art. A lot of those numbers had changed but I wouldn’t allow anyone to alter or deface it in any way.

Simon’s number was the second under ‘S’ after the school and I lifted the receiver and began dialing the number.

“What are you doing?” David sounded concerned.

“What does it look like?”

“NO!” said Simon. “Don’t call him.”

“Dad, please.”

“I need to know, David.” I dialed the last number and waited.

“I’m gay,” said Simon.