Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Dad? Yes, that’s my father as a kid. Damn, we looked so much alike… His eyes brimmed with amazed tears. He’d seen old photos of his father before but actually watching him moving around and speaking on a video was a different experience altogether. His father’s voice was distorted, he was saying things he couldn’t quite make out, but once it smoothed out and the sound came in clearer, he could tell he even sounded like him. Same tone. Same face. Same build. Same black hair. Same sunset eyes. Same mannerisms and facial expressions.
Grandpa entered the frame. Looming, so big and tall—like a mountain. Both of them were dressed in camouflage and carried large guns. Grandpa looked so much younger, too. His hair was dark brown and cut short. He was quite handsome, strong, his dark beard tapered. His ice blue eyes were still piercing and menacing, but the whites were brighter.
“Hold it like this,” he heard Grandpa instruct in a kind but serious tone. “Yes. Good boy.” His grandfather was helping his son change the position of his rifle. It was apparent that they were out hunting game. Maybe deer. Dad struggled but seemed determined to hold the gun just right.
“I’ll be right back.” Grandpa tapped him on his head, then walked out of frame. Dad continued to practice holding his gun correctly. Less than a minute later, Grandpa showed back up.
“Here’s what you’re going to shoot.”
Roman strained, not seeing anything. Grandpa had thrown something on the ground, perhaps. He was standing in the way.
“What? This isn’t what you said. No… this isn’t right…”
“It’s right if I say it is.”
“But I don’t wanna do this.” Young Reeves’ voice cracked, and then he started crying.
“Damn it, Reeves!” Grandpa barked, snatching his father’s rifle from his grip. “You’re almost a man! This is a rite of passage! We’ve been over this a thousand times. I told you one day this would happen. Now you do this, or else!” Grandpa snatched his father up by his jacket collar and shook him hard, so much Daddy looked like a brown and green blur. His hunting boots waved about as he kicked. When he sat him back down, Dad fell onto his ass. Roman could see something on the ground, but he still could not make it out. Grandpa stood over his son and snatched him back up. “Stand the hell up! Back straight!”
The older man moved out of the frame for a few seconds while Reeves stood there in that foreboding forest, his chest heaving hard, tears streaming down his face. Then, his father looked towards the video camera. They locked eyes. Son to son. Roman gasped around a scream that begged to come out. Reeves was pleading with him. A stare of pure torture. A stare that was drowning in a fear like he’d never known—it was as if he was seeing a ghost… watching himself at that age fall apart. Lose hope. All of the feelings he’d experienced during his childhood, a time long gone, flooded back.
He was looking into a funhouse mirror, seeing himself for what he was: a scared little boy, who felt like he had to be a man. Living with adults who behaved like children, all the while praying for relief from a heavenly Father that never arrived. Grandpa came back into frame, this time lifting something from the ground—a shape Roman recognized. The man hauled a guy by the back of his hair. Roman’s face flushed with heat as the man was marched in front of his father. So close to the camera… The man’s hands and feet were bound, his mouth stuffed with a dirty cloth.
“This is the son of a bitch who told the police that I was stealin’ from his company. Writing bad checks. That was a lie, Reeves. Bad check writing is a white trash crime. I would never do such a fucking thing. You know Daddy hates liars. Daddy got in trouble with the law ’cause of this man, all because he told a big, dirty fabrication. Now, all you have to do is aim your gun at his gotdamn chest and fire. Pretend he’s a wild turkey or elk. That’s all he really is, boy. A wild animal. Come on. You can do it.”
“…Daddy, that… that’s a man.” Reeves sobbed. The man seemed to be sobbing, too. “He’s no animal… that’s a human being, Daddy!”
“SHOOT HIM!”
“I don’t wanna, Daddy! PLEASE DON’T MAKE ME!” Reeves blubbered, turning to putty and falling to the ground.
Grandpa grabbed Daddy and squeezed him around the throat.
“You’re my flesh and blood! You’re not loyal! Don’t you turn Judas on me! After all I do for you?! Everything you want, you get! You never want for nothin’! When I was a boy, I never had it so good! My father would beat me for the fucking fun of it, and here I am just trying to teach you to be a man! I’ve never beat you! Never let you go to bed night after night hungry. I never made you lick puke off the floor, then read the Bible until your mouth ran dry! I ask you to do this one thing, this one little thing, and you turn pussy on me! Your mama is rollin’ in her grave, Reeves! ROLLIN’ IN HER GOTDAMN GRAVE!”