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Adamant
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Adamant |
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SCREAMIN Member
since 2003-04-28
Posts 51US, Tx |
It was far more dark that evening than the ones before, and those that followed; the midnight fog had settled into the lonely alleyway early, as if it knew there was to be a visitor. A young man walked hesitantly through the vacant alley; nothing moved but him, there was no sound but his steps. The fog clung to him in the stillness, as he quickened his pace when he reached the empty lot. A shadowy figure could be vaguely seen and became clearer as he neared it. The figure was an old man with a long thick coat and a brown bowler’s hat hiding the white hair on his head. His gnarled bony fingers clutched a stubby tobacco pipe which jutted out of the side of his mouth as if it were merely another body part. The young man stood tentatively before the old, he did not know what to say. How does one begin to speak of such things? he asked himself, for what he was asking was a great burden. Finally finding his voice the young man asked, “Not many men of our trade you know?” Without visually acknowledging the man who approached, he answered grimly, “Indeed there are few.” His words came out soft but forced and full of reluctance. He did not look at the man who came to question him; he did not care. “Do you know why I am here?” asked the young man. “Yes.” “Do you have anything to say?” “No.” The old man growled as he exhaled a large amount of smoke which billowed around him, making it hard to see the wrinkles in his face and bare hands. A long silence ensued, in which the two men stood staring fixedly at anything but each other. A paper rustled breaking the silence of the stillness in the night. “You don’t need me now.” he said grimly, still not looking in the direction of the one to whom he spoke. “Yes, I do. I have come to you because you’re the only one who knows how to help us,” the young man said, “only you have power over your son.” “STOP!” the man roared, looking the young boy in the eye as he strode over to where he stood, “I have no son.” He sighed and calmed himself then backed up to his wall again where he stood puffing his pipe. “That relationship ended many years ago when he walked away from every thing that I’d worked so hard for.” he continued, “All the things I sacrificed and survived for; he left it for me to die in, and I did what he wanted, I died.” “All I ask is your help.” The young man pleaded. “Will you not help me?” “No.” “So everything, all that you have just said that you strived for will have been totally in vain?” he asked trying to persuade him. “No; that has already been in vain.” was his stern and obstinate reply. “Well,” said the young man realizing that the forsaken father only wanted to wallow his self pity and hatred for the one who had abandoned him, “Is there anything that I should know? Anything you can tell me? Do you have something to say?” he inquired. The old man took a long drag of his pipe and exhaled slowly; he pulled the pipe away from his lips for a few seconds, and as he looked straight into the young man’s eyes, he said quietly, “No,” and then watched sadly, as the boy who long ago had called him father, walked away from him, and disappeared for a second time. Such tears in a time of need, is not a reasonable term of sanity. It is but a reasonable term of human imperfection. |
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Copperbell Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956 |
gets you thinking...I enjoyed the surprise ending. I am wondering if there is another son where he says "only you have power over your son" |
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