Someone's Son Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

   

It's okay Sheldon; take it easy. He was sure butterflies were having a party inside his chest. His stomach hurt and palms sweaty. In fact he felt like a nine-year old kid all over again.

          His mom watched her son prance about like an over-anxious puppy. She kept staying close to help settle him down. Sheldon loved his mom for that.        

"I know you'll have a good time," she kept saying. Maybe Sheldon didn’t grow into the son dad wanted. When he checked himself in the mirror, he thought he looked ugly.

          This first Saturday trip with his father might be interesting. He was staring out his bedroom window when his father came.

          What should Sheldon call him? What would they talk about? Larry was more like his dad. Not this guy. How could he just run up and say, "Hey pops, what’s new? Give me a high five."

          When the car horn honked, he was off like a sprinter, down the stairs, and opened the door. There was his father on the front porch. They stared at each other before the man moved forward.

          Sheldon knew a hug was on the way. "Uh...Uh." he said.

          His father stopped short, looking disappointed.

          Mom said this Saturday business with the two of them would not be easy. “But remember son,” she said, “it’s time to forgive.”

          But how could he, after all these years? Sheldon still had a river of tears hiding inside his chest. Secretly, Sheldon wanted his father back in his life again. He already had mom and Larry. But there was still something missing.

          "Hello son!"

          "Hello."

          "Let me try that again. Hi, son!"

          "Hi."

          "It's your dad. Hi. I was here last night, can’t remember?"

          "Hi."

          "How about, hi dad?"

          "No. I mean..."

          "It's okay. Why not try father."

          "Hi, Father." That seemed to satisfy him. Though, it sure sounded strange coming from his lips. It was like a hammer striking mud. A big fat nothing. Thud.

What else was this man going to expect from Sheldon?

          Sheldon felt funny sitting in his father's big shiny station wagon. It was a nine passenger and smelled new. Was the old man rich? He saw his father staring at his haircut. "What do you call that?" he asked.

          "It doesn’t matter,” Sheldon answered suspiciously.

“Do you like it?"

          "Yes."

          "Don't talk much, eh? I understand. It's alright."

          Sheldon didn't answer at first. How did his father expect his son to behave, after three years? At the supper table last night, he could ignore his father. But here, it was just the two of them.

          He wanted to grab him...but was all mixed up. And hug him. And cry.

          But Sheldon couldn't. He was still angry for him going away. Well at least a little upset. No, to be really honest, it was a lot.  His new T-shirt had a neat slogan. 'WATCH IT BIG GUY,' in bright red letters on white material. It was perfect for today’s visit.

          Sheldon sensed his father’s disapproval of his shirt hanging over his jeans. But that was the style. He didn't want to be different from his buddies.

          "Tuck your shirt in!" he'd always say before.

          The boy wondered if his dad realized he was much older now and his mom allowed him to make certain decisions. And that included his haircut style. Tough, if dad didn't like it. Sheldon scuffed his new sneakers across the floorboards. Where were they going?

          As if reading the boy's mind his father suddenly said, "Have I got a surprise for you!"

          This better be good, Sheldon thought. The faster today is over, the better. He was already getting cold feet. What was next? "Hey, I'm hungry," When he was nervous he had to eat.

          But, Sheldon was hooked, and tried to hold back his excitement. He loved surprises. Something finally loose, and for a while took off his 'tough-guy' mask.

He began to tell stories about his cat Boots, and the deer he saw back of his house. And his teddy bear, oops, skip it. That was a close one. 'Buddy' was a present from someone a long time ago. He didn't know from whom, but he took him everywhere. Right now the brown and white face was hiding in his backpack, like an old pal. 

Mom said it was okay, since it was like a voice from the past. What if his father found out? Would he think his son was weird or something? "No Sweat."

          "What did you say?" his father asked.

          "Me?"

          "Yes."

          "No Sweat?"

          "Where did you pick that up?"

          "I dunno. It's what I say when I get happy. Or nervous."

          "Are you happy now?"

          Sheldon didn't like the way his father tricked him into saying private thoughts out loud. Clasping his hands together, he counted his fingers. It helped him to concentrate. "Yup, I still have ten."

          "Eh?"

          "Huh?"

          "What did you say?"

          "...nothing." It was a silly idea Sheldon and Troy used to change the subject. It worked too. It meant still having ten fingers.

          They continued on in silence.

          Sheldon brought the new fishing rod Larry gave him last year.

          He noticed his father's raised eyebrows when he carefully placed it in the trunk of the car. Sheldon brought his fishing gear every time he went out. Just in case. He also had a small plastic container with some #6 hooks and a few spoons and spinners.

          That is, in case he ever had a chance to go fishing. His fingernails were dirty, and hoped his father didn’t make any comments. Mom always said, "Cut and clean your nails regularly. It’s proper grooming." Sometimes he let her do them.

          Especially since she does a neater job. Was his face washed? Maybe his father was also upset last night to see his room untidy? Why was he worrying about this small stuff?

          Sheldon knew his father had looked him up and down. But so what if he did?

They drove through the village of Greenfield, about six miles on the other side of Truro. Before long, they ran out of pavement, and dust clouds swirled around the car. Then turned down a bush road and headed deeper into the woods.

          Coughing from the dust Sheldon closed his window. Father did too.

          "Sorry about that," he said.

          Sheldon didn't mention he was afraid of fast driving. Thinking about it too much might cause him to whiz in his pants. Mom wouldn’t tell about Sheldon wetting the bed. That was their little secret. It didn't happen so often now. And she blamed it all on his dad.

          They parked beside an old wooden bridge. Sunlight reflected from foamy rivulets twisting around a corner of the stream. It really was silent. Sheldon could sense the forest wondering what they were doing here.

          "Well sport, here we are. And we're going to catch some big ones!!" his father yelled, jumping out of the car. “I bet you thought I had forgotten how much you like fishing,” he said.

          Sheldon sucked in his breath and followed. Great! They were going fishing. His father didn't let on about his surprise maybe being spoiled.

          The boy's large ears twitched. They were bent over from his cap being pulled down tight. He didn't want to lose the present Larry had given him. The lowered peak also hid his face. That way his father wouldn’t notice how happy he was to be here.

          The boy was always excited being in the woods. Familiar birds scooted from branch to branch. The moaning wind, and branches cracking helped make Sheldon feel at home. But he would be more comfortable if Larry was with him.

He knew his friend understood about the visiting arrangement. “I hope we can still do some things together,” he had said.

          Feet kept stepping into puddles. And of course soakers became part of the trip. He pretended he didn't mind. Sheldon knew mom wouldn't mind either, returning with soggy, stinky socks.

“Just have a good time,” she had said.

"Lots of walking to do yet," his father said, interrupting the boy’s thoughts. Good thing he wasn't 'naggy' or anything. Before, he would have really chewed the boy out if he were slow on the trail.

          They went down a steep bank, past whole clumps of ferns, his father stopping several times.

          "What's up?" Sheldon asked.

          "Looking for deer sign," he said. “They are like Princes of the forest.”

          The boy couldn’t wait to pick blueberries next month. Reddish tinged fields spread out across parts of the hill before them. The stain of berry juice on his hands meant more dollars in the bank.

Ahead of them was a nice camera picture, but the trout creek looked even better. His father didn’t seem to mind when Sheldon gave him a short jab on the shoulder. I don’t know why I did that, the boy wondered.   

They had an abundance of dew worms for bait. The boy hated to hurt the slimy lumps, allowing his father to put them on his hook. Although mosquitoes became a nuisance, they didn’t stop Sheldon from catching a nice sized brook trout. In his book, it was a monster.

          "Got one!" he yelled, as if it was the most normal thing for him. Then he jumped up and down, teasing his dad. "Ha…Ha. I got the first one!"

          His father only stared while Sheldon kept grinning. The boy watched his father wiped at his face. Was he sweaty or something?
          Sheldon was pleased each caught their limit of five. And before long they were home and his father driving away. Time had passed that swiftly.

          "See you next Saturday," was all Sheldon could remember.

          The car's exhaust seemed to wave smoky fingers at Sheldon.

 

June promised sunshine and green grass for mowing. That meant sunny days at the beach. And a chance to make some pocket money, too, Sheldon thought.

          It's nice to have some 'Moola' when the guys visited the corner store. Sheldon was always on the lookout for a chance to earn his way. He realized mom had little left, after the bills were paid.

          When mom went to pay for his new sneakers, Sheldon had surprised her by putting $30.00 from his savings into her hand. "Mom, I want to do this to help out." She protested a little at first, but then a quiet "thanks" snuck out. It made him feel good to do his share whenever possible.

          Sheldon and Troy were just hanging out with no special plans. They were at Troy's house. The yard was full of old tires and washing machines and ski-do frames. Even several lawn mowers were scattered everywhere. It was a boy's dream junkyard.

          Troy liked to tinker with motors and his mom never seemed to mind. It didn't matter if his fingernails were dirty or there was grease on his pants. At Sheldon's everything was 'Spic and Span.'

          Sheldon liked going around with Troy. He missed a few grades but he wasn't stupid, only stubborn. Sometimes Sheldon would really get upset with someone who did not appreciate Troy's good points.

          But you never wanted Troy to get upset with you. He'd bop you one. A few trips to Shelburne training School had toughened him up. That's why Sheldon sometimes gave up easily when they wrestled.

          And this was one of those moments.

          Their groans and grunts could be heard across the yard as they practiced new holds on each other. Sheldon enjoyed wrestling and thought he'd work his way into shape for the team trials in September.

          Sheldon was taller than his friend and longer arms were an advantage. But Troy was heavier by about twenty pounds.

          "Hey man. Come on, try harder," Troy puffed as he waited for Sheldon's next move.

          Sheldon was on top with his arm firmly around Troy's neck. How to throw him on his back without hurting him? He didn't dare try it. Sheldon stopped abruptly and then stood up.

          "Hey, what's the matter?" Troy asked.

          "Nothing."

          "Come on Sheldon, spill it out. Are you afraid? Do you think I'd hurt you if you won?" Troy looked upset.

          "Yes."

          "I can't believe this. Why?"

          "What if I did hurt you? What would you do to me?" Sheldon challenged.

          "You...hurt me?" An incredulous look came over Troy’s face. "See this?" and he flexed his biceps. "If you or anyone ever hurt me, I'd smash them one. But it wouldn't happen to you..." he hastily added.

          "See what I mean," stammered Sheldon. Now he knew why he didn't try to win physical games with his pal. "I never want us to fight. You're my best friend. I don't know what I’d do. I mean -- well I just won't let it happen."

          "Don't worry. You couldn't bruise me anyway. Come on I'll treat you to a Coke. Race ya to the house."

          Two friends raced for the veranda.

          This was