Someone's Son Novel for ages 9-13

SOMEONE’S SON Novel - for ages 9-13

By Esther & Richard L. Provencher

 

This book is dedicated

to ALL families,

from our own family

of children and grandchildren.

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

"Why does dad have to come back?" The look Sheldon gave his mom was withering as he waited impatiently for an answer.

          He knew his mother was nervous. She always looked around the room when stumbling for words. Just the other day they talked about dad being transferred here after taking off three years ago. Sheldon often wondered if he would ever return. Why did it have to be now?

          He kept his eyes steady. And tried not to stare. It was sad watching his mother's discomfort. Maybe this wasn't the right time to ask. But he had to know her thoughts

 

"Mommm?" an impatient whine dragged on his tongue.

          "Sheldon, you and I did discuss it..."

          "Yah, but mom... maybe I changed my mind, okay?"

          “He wants to spend some time with you. This summer," she quickly added. “Besides, you did agree.”

          "Oh yah! Sure!" he exploded. "I was forced into it. I’m just a twelve year old kid."

          “Almost thirteen,” his mom said, “ and old enough to make this kind of decision.”

“It’s still not fair,” the boy mumbled.

          "We did it the best way we could, Shel."  She always switched to the shorter version of his name when she got serious. "He's transferred to Truro and wants to spend some time with you, before you get much older. Is that such a problem?"

          "Yes, it is. I thought everything was settled when he left us for Toronto. What about Larry and me mom? What's going to happen to us?"

          Without giving his mother a chance to even answer, Sheldon grabbed his schoolbooks and rushed out of the room. Charging upstairs caused a loud thumping of feet across the floor. Each step stomped out a message, "I'm upset. I'm upset."

          Only his reputation for being the politest kid on the block kept him from slamming the door. Echoes of his feet attack on the stairs faded away. Sheldon hoped mom didn't think he was too rude. But he was right to be upset. How could she even think about dad moving back into their lives? As if he had simply gone out to Mac Donald’s for a coffee, or something. What's wrong with her?

"Gee whiz mom," he said to no one in particular.

          Slumping on his bed, thoughts and images scampered in all directions. Dad left the winter Sheldon turned nine. "Son, I'm sorry it has to be this way." At the time, Sheldon didn't quite understand what dad meant. He just knew there was a terrible sadness in his little heart.

          Then his whole world collapsed. His dad was more than just a Dad. He had been Sheldon's hero.

          "Me leaving has nothing to do with you,” his dad had said. “I'll always love you." Then he stepped out of Sheldon's life. Suddenly like a ghost, he was gone.

Later, when no one else was around, the boy cried like a baby over the missing piece in his life. Usually on a hike by himself his secret feelings would speak up. He enjoyed private trips in the woods. It was an escape from any problems that seemed to overwhelm him. Besides, it gave him a chance to think things out.

          Dad often took him fishing and hiking. Now his neighbor Larry Reynolds did that. So now what? It had taken Sheldon a long time to put aside his heartache. As he paced back and forth in his room, he realized the hurting was still there. It was an ache deeply imbedded in his chest.

          He kicked off his sneakers, and lay back on the bed. "Mom's right, my jeans are kinda tight." Growing up too quickly, he thought. Just wish mom wouldn't treat him like a baby.

          Arms tucked under his head, Sheldon scanned the room carefully. His eyes took in the pennant from Halifax, pictures of mom, himself and his friend Troy, taken at Boy Scout Summer Camp last year. They stared back at him. As smiles in the sunshine at the time. But clouds in his mind right now.

          Sheldon sat up, placed his feet on the wooden floor, walking slowly to the window. His house sat on a hill overlooking Glenholme, a village of 200 people, 25 Kilometres from Truro, Nova Scotia. He pretended he was an owl settled on a branch watching the world move along.

But owls were supposed to be wise. And right now, he was confused.

          A collection of old houses, trailers and newly aluminum-sided buildings was scattered on either side of Highway 104. Many of those folks were his paper route customers.

          The stars were bright, their luminous eyes keeping him company, feeling his sorrow. He could see the Big Dipper. "Ursa Major" he said aloud, looking up. It was nice to learn some fancy words. It was part of growing older. Junior High was a blast. Seven eyes in the Dipper's outline winked back.

          "It's tough growing up," he said aloud. He knew he was acting silly but things seemed much simpler when he was younger.

          He enjoyed staring out the window at night, elbows on the windowsill, chin cradled in his hands. There was a time when he dreamed of being an astronomer. 'Star-gazer,' that's him. Everything seems so peaceful up there. 'Astronaut Sheldon' sounded good, too.

          He tried to spot a satellite, watching carefully for the telltale steady moving light. "Guess it's not dark enough to see."

          His brow furrowed when he thought a lot. And he was thinking about Larry, his neighbor and adult friend who took him fishing last Saturday. Now he would be a great dad. "But he's married with grown up kids of his own," he sighed. They had bonded together so well, Sheldon often thought of him as his dad.

          Sheldon continued to look out the window, his mind racing along on a merry-go-round of memories. Tiredly he made his way back to bed and flung himself down. He was too sleepy to even climb under the sheets and pull up his covers.

          Re-living events from last Saturday was kind of neat...

 

…It had been a perfect day on sun-drenched Simpson Lake, stretching a mile in length. And smooth as glass, just perfect for a canoe ride.

          "This is really cool," Sheldon remembered saying. He never got to go fishing with anyone after dad left. That is, until Larry Reynolds came into his life. The first time he and Mr. Reynolds met was last year when Sheldon began his first paper route. Sheldon had marched up the front steps, "Hi there, Mr. Reynolds." He forced himself to speak up, determined to get over his shyness.

"Would you like to take the Truro Daily News? And I won't mind the extra walk from the road to your house."

          They hit it off just right the first time. "You can call me Larry," Mr. Reynolds had said, "unless your parents object."

          "My mom won't mind. She's divorced and she lets me make a lot of decisions."

          "Do you still keep in touch with your dad?" Larry had asked. “From, my way of thinking, it is important.”

          "Nope. Never hear from him." Sheldon's answer was short and sweet at the time. And the good thing about Larry was he didn't ask a lot of nosey questions.

          He later met Mr. Reynolds's wife and even had a tour of their big old house, which used to be a church manse. Imagine the old place was over 140 years old. Sheldon also learned to play chess with Mr. Reynolds and had gone over numerous times to help pile wood and mow the grass. It soon became his second home.

          "I don't believe in paying someone to help me for an hour or two with chores," Larry had said. "Instead, I'll be glad to take you hiking or even go fishing. That is if your mom allows it."

          Then the ‘outings’ with Larry began. Fishing, camping and canoeing. Now their weekend ‘outings’ would have to be put on hold. Larry might be upset if he couldn't take Sheldon out on weekends anymore? Sheldon was already upset.

Mom had showed her son the new visitation agreement she signed with his dad. Ex-dad, that is. And that meant he now had first dibs on Sheldon each Saturday.

          Settling back in bed seemed to take away the pain from this other person who wanted to rip back into his life. Larry had been there for him so often encouraging him. And Sheldon didn’t really need his dad anymore.

 

"Remember what I told you Sheldon?" Mr. Reynolds had said last weekend. "About the different parts of the canoe?" Sheldon liked to be tested on his new knowledge.

          "Yes. The sides are called gunnels."

          "And the front?"

          "The bow."

          "The back?"

          "Stern."

          "Right!" Sheldon knew Larry was proud of him.

          "Now a toughie, the bottom edge sticking out?"

          "Can't remember." Sheldon pondered carefully as Larry waited patiently. "OK I give up."

          "Come on Sheldon, never give up on anything. Keep trying."

          "The keel."

          "Good boy! What does it do again?"

          "It keeps the canoe in a straight direction. Helps the sterns man."

          "You got it!" Larry had replied.

          Sheldon really liked someone to teach him things. And Larry cared enough to share useful bits of information.

          "Lets get the canoe moving, chum."

          It only took a few minutes to load the fishing rods. Food packs were placed in the center of the canoe and life jackets worn. They waded barefoot into the water pushing the craft to a deeper depth before getting in. This protected the canoe's bottom.

Their running shoes were tied to the thwarts, in case of tipping. “That way,” Larry had said, “we can’t lose our valuable footwear.”

          While Larry held the canoe, Sheldon gingerly placed his cold feet inside one at a time then sat down. As Larry climbed into the stern, Sheldon remembered saying quickly, "OK dad, let's go." He glanced back but Larry must have missed it.

          Sheldon hadn't said it on purpose. It sort of snuck out. "OK dad," he repeated under his breath, "let's go." Sounded really nice, he thought to himself, turning around and looking back.

          Larry had worn his usual peaked hat, the one with the perch in front that looked so real. Red vest, blue shirt, worn jeans and bare feet added to the picture. Larry's duck paddle was ready for action. And his eyes seemed at peace.

          They were always full of laughter.

          "What's up Sheldon? You're looking at me rather seriously," Larry said, chuckling.

          Sheldon turned away quickly, heart pounding. "Nothing. I'm ready...that's all."

          But it wasn't all. He missed having a dad and he was glad his face was turned away. Moisture had gathered on his cheeks. He wasn't crying, not really. He felt like a traitor to his mother for even pretending Larry was his dad. But it must be okay to think these thoughts.

          The sky didn't explode or anything.

          To himself he said softly, "OK dad, I'm ready now. Let's go." And he felt good inside as his paddle dipped into the water.

 

Sheldon jerked awake as he heard his squeaky bedroom door open. Through half-closed eyelids he watched as mom came into his room.

          Sheldon pretended to be asleep, one arm flung out fingers open as if waiting for a handshake. His mom crossed the room, a rustle of housecoat cuffing bare calves. His carefully controlled breathing was the only other sound.

          He felt her eyes travel from his toes, lanky legs, and stretched frame to his blond head. He felt uncomfortable under her careful gaze. She puffed air softly on his closed eyelids, testing to see if he was really sound asleep. It tickled, but somehow he calmed his reflexes.

          He bit his lip to stop the smile that threatened to sprout from his face. Sheldon wasn't angry with her anymore.

          She pulled a blanket from the closet and placed it over him. He moaned softly, allowing some of his tension to escape. The sound drifted across the room, as if from a far-away planet.

          He felt the bed sag when she sat beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He felt her warmth as she began to hum softly to herself. Then more loudly as made-up-words came together. It was something about a mother's love for her son.

          Not anything you'd find on the Hit Parade's top hundred, he thought to himself, almost giggling with nervousness. What was his mother doing in his room anyway?

          The sky and its bright eyes were witnesses. They too heard her song for Sheldon. He didn't understand why, but tears began to pool in his eyes. They matched those from his mom as he drifted off to sleep.

(c) 2019 -- This is the first chapter.