06 – Confrontation

When Hal was in grade one, his English teacher asked each and every one of them what they wanted to be when they grew up.

“I want to be like my dad!” Hal shouted.

“What’s your dad’s name? What does he do for a living?”

“My dad’s name is Harold Alan Romero. He’s a businessman, and I want to be just like him!”

That was ten years ago. Harold Romero was now 42, and whenever Hal was asked what his father’s occupation was, he’d answer that his dad was an entrepreneur. He never mentioned the part about wanting to be like his father.

“My son will grow up to be just like me.” Hal remembered his father telling his mom.

“Then there’ll be two stubborn mules in the family.” His mother would reply. Hal used to laugh at that joke. Until he realized his mother was being cynical.

“How much I’ve grown. And changed.” Hal thought.

Hal got out of bed and went out of his room. It was Tuesday evening and his father should be in his room. It’s been a long time since he last entered his father’s room. The maids didn’t dare enter it with his father inside. They did all the cleaning while his father was away. Hal visited even less. The only time he actually went in there was to hand his father his report card and sign it. Entering his father’s room was like a going to your appointment with the doctor: you didn’t want to go, but you had to do so.

“Life and death. I never thought the stakes would be this high.” Hal mumbled. He then knocked on the door.

“Is that you Hal?”

“Yeah, it’s me dad.”

“Do come in.”

Harold Romero was sitting on a rocking chair, with a pipe hanging on his mouth. Hal’s dad didn’t smoke, but he did love having a pipe by his mouth. It seemed impressive and gave him a look of respectability. Hal couldn’t care less.

“This is a surprise. I’m certain that your report card isn’t due until next month.”

“I wanted to have a serious talk with you.”

“But I’m always serious.”

“I didn’t come here so you could lecture me.”

“I wasn’t lecturing you.”

“But you speak as if you were doing so. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re my son. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Sorry. Forget it. I didn’t come here to quarrel. I came to ask advice.”

“Sure. This is the first time in a long, long time that you’re actually seeking advice from me.”

“Be honest with me now. Did you love mom?”

“Of course I did. And I still do. Just because we’re living apart doesn’t mean that—“

“How did you know? How did you know that you were in love with her?”

“Ah. So this is what it’s all about. So who’s the lucky girl?”

“Dad, I didn’t come here to ask advice on how to court a girl. I’m here to ask about you and mom.”

“Okay. That’s fair. If I were in your situation, I would be embarrassed as well talking about my girlfriend.”

“Stop diverting the topic! The answer to my question is very important. Which is why I came to ask your advice.”

“So, you want to know how I knew that I was in love with your mom? Well, there were telltale signs. We were spending most of our time with each other. She always gave me this smile whenever we met. And we could relate to each other. But you know what, in the end, it came down to a decision.”

“A decision?”

“Love is a decision, Hal. We choose who we love. It’s not just a matter of feeling excited about someone. If it were just that, we’d be like animals. I mean animals feel affection as well. A dog is capable of making love, and it’ll probably do it anywhere, anytime whenever it feels like it. Your mom wasn’t the first girl I met, and she’s not exactly the most beautiful of the lot. But I exercised restraint on the others, exercised my capability to choose. There was as point when I said to myself that I’d marry your mother, and I did everything I could to accomplish that. There were times when striving to accomplish that was difficult, especially when all the romance is gone, or when I was feeling down, or simply when I lost the passion I used to have. But we did get married in the end. So there.”

“So you’re telling me that it comes right down to a decision?”

“Decisions are sometimes the only thing we have. We don’t choose what happens today or tomorrow, but we can choose how to react to it.”

“That didn’t really tell me when you found out you were in love with her.”

“Let’s put it this way. If you’re willing to commit to the girl, willing to give up romance with all the other girls in the world, willing to pursue her even if you know you might lose interest in her, willing to go after her when you know you might end up losing everything in the process, then that’s love.”

“You’re too cerebral for me dad. My other friends, when their parents tell their love story, they have all these stories like love at first sight or soul mates. But then again, perhaps that’s why mom split in the end. Because it wasn’t really love.”

“I can’t help you there if that’s what you believe. But I’m a person who thinks that each of us has control over our lives, even if it’s just the ability to make decisions. Emotions are great, but there will be times when they will fail you, or sometimes simply disappear. What then? What will you base your decision on?”

“By how I feel at the time. Isn’t that how most people base their decisions on?”

“If only things were that simple. Didn’t you do something once in your life that you regretted doing so later?”

“Yeah. I said something to a friend that I shouldn’t have. Things haven’t been working out ever since.”

“And what made you say those words? Wasn’t it your emotion? Perhaps if you gave more time to think of how your words might impact the future, you wouldn’t have said it.”

“Stop lecturing me dad.”

“I wasn’t lecturing you. Merely pointing out what I believed in. Your emotions should be tempered by your conscious decisions.”

“No wonder mom left you. You’re too aloof with what your emotions. You lost your ability to relate with others, to feel what others feel. Tell me, what did you feel when mom left?”

“That’s besides the point. What I felt at the time has no bearing with what we’re discussing right now.”

“Tell me! I don’t think you can even be honest with your emotions, especially now. You always sound like you know what’s going around you when in fact you’re clueless to what people are feeling. Tell me, did you feel despair at that point? Sadness? Regret?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I want to know.”

“Very well then. Pity. I felt pity.”

“What? Pity? At yourself?”

“At your mother. For what she threw away, for what she was giving up.”

“Are you that arrogant to think that she was losing that much in leaving you?”

“I wasn’t pitying her for leaving me. I was pitying her for leaving you.”

Hal didn’t bother hiding his startled expression. His father merely stood up from his chair and gave Hal a hug. Hal wallowed in his father’s embrace for a good ten seconds, before pushing him and shunning him once more.

“You’re lying! What am I to mother? What am I to you?”

“You’re our son. Do we need any other reason?”

“You speak of choices. You didn’t choose me. I was just born, probably the result of an unwanted union. What am I to mother? What am I to you?”

“You’re my son. If you were unwanted, you would have been given up for adoption. And yes, I did choose to love you. I chose to care for you, I treated you as I would have wanted to have been treated when I was younger. As for your mother, you’ll have to ask her that. I won’t pretend to know what goes on in her mind. I’ve given that up a long time ago. But I do remember seeing her smile when you were born. And it was the prettiest smile I have ever seen, even when I was still courting her. To give that up, even despite all the hardships, well, I don’t claim to know to have a monopoly on knowing how other people feel, as you pointed out.”

“Dad…”

Harold Romero turned his back and stood before his chair.

“I’m sure this conversation has been taxing on both of us. If you don’t mind, I need my privacy now.”

All Hal could do was nod. He quickly left the room for he had his own inner demons to contend with, especially with what he had just heard. If Hal had been more observant, he would have noticed that the reason why his father turned his back on him was because he couldn’t hold back anymore the tears that were now streaming down his face.

Word Count: 1,575
Total Word Count: 13,966