He Flipped Pt. II
[text] “Is Pastor Jeff in?”
And by that, our own version of talking in shorthand to let him know I needed help. Now.
[text] “What’d you do now??”
When the phone rang I was still chuckling because regardless of what I had on my mind, big or small, he has this knack for coming up along side me to laugh me out of Too Serious or sober me up into Not Enough.
“Here’s the deal: you have two sons further into the Vortex of Adolescence. I’m wagering you’ve been where I am right now, and I…well…I’m not sure what I need. But let me just bring you up to speed, and you tell me what you hear.”
“Got it. Go.”
And he got it. So I went, ending with, “…so. There it is. I turned around and came back because I just need to be sure. I’m standing outside the place right now and wondering whether I go in. He’s already really ticked off. So. That’s it.”
“OF COURSE YOU GO IN!” (he practically jumped through the phone) “And when he sees you he isn’t going to just be mad—he’s going to go ballistic. And when he goes off, you look right at him and say, ‘Look, kid…it’s my job to keep you ALIVE. And you’ve got another three or four years of exactly this, so I suggest you get used to it.’ And then you leave.”
I laughed with the portion of my mind not already occupied with trying not to reveal the lump in my throat. Just the sturdy rail I needed when I needed it most.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that. I think I knew that…but…well. This is new territory. I think I needed to hear it out loud from someone else.”
“You’re doing fine, Todd.”
“Thanks. One more thing?”
“Yeah?”
“If you ever tell anyone I called anyone for advice I swear to God in heaven I’ll openly deny ever knowing you.”
“Lol bye.”
Inside the rec center I find the young lady at the front desk and learn that there is in fact a drop-in that evening. It wasn’t the first time she’d fielded the concern of a parent remembering their own 14 years young, so the smile and the “of course” directed me down the hall and to the right to…you know, just take a peek and make sure.
And on the way back to the gymnastics area, I see a little boy about the same age as Beta Male. And he’s sitting alone in front of a television. But he’s not watching it. He’s not reading a book. He’s not doing anything. He’s just sitting there. Alone. And my mind, clearly beating my brains out to get my heart on the same page, remembers the Time I Don’t Have Alex, Sorry when, earlier in the day, I found myself not at all wanting to give what needed giving in the form of another little boy wanting nothing more than to be with me. And for a moment I was moved, space out of time, and sent spinning, again, as I found myself with a whole new set of emotional plates to spin.
But not for long, because the condemnation going on inside my own head was interrupted by the sound of laughter. I crept over to the door of the gymnastics room praying every step of the way, God please let him be here. Please let me be overreacting.
And he was there. And so were his pals.
They jumped and they laughed and they dared and they risked life and limb, throwing themselves (I think) into They Have No Idea What’s Coming (Good. They shouldn’t know yet anyway.)
They bounced off walls and fell into foam pits. They swung on ropes and balanced on bars.
For a suspended luminal few moments they weren’t fourteen years. They were fourteen months and my throat and eyes joined forces with every intention of seeing I had trouble seeing at all.
He was there.
He jumped, soaring through the air like he was born to fly.
I watched him.
And he flipped.
* * *
I left, unseen and drove home, unhinged, careening between the pain of one boy who wanted desperately to be away from me and another who wanted nothing more than to hang out, but who found nothing more than a dad far too busy to go get ice cream.
Pulling in. “Dad!”
“Hey, boy. You busy?”
All smiles. “No! Why?”
“Let’s go get ice cream, kid.”
And he flipped.
On the way I marked the trail with the aid of a full moon and a falling star. If the heavenlies were leaning close to encourage, it was overture more or less lost on me, I’m sorry to say.
I was a mess.
All I knew was that the kids are growing up too fast and the wider world is doing a poor job convincing me that setting them loose is a good idea. I sat with Beta Male and ate our ice cream together while he pontificated, entirely unaware of anything besides himself and his hero.
We watched a batch of teenagers pose and jockey with one another. I smiled at their perfect and complete lack of consciousness. I wanted to insulate them, and my own, from so much.
And then I remembered how, at the same age, my parents wanted to do the very same thing. So, smiling now at what I didn’t know then, I put my arm around Alex and responded to his observation with, “No, buddy lol. I’m sure they’re all good kids. They’re doing exactly what they should be doing. And exactly what you’re going to do…and exactly what I did.”
“Well. I just know I wouldn’t trust them.”
“Lol duly noted, kid. Let’s go home.”
