Love Child
“Come in.”
“Hello, my man.”
“I’m not your man, old man.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not an old man, yet. I’m your father. Show some respect. Did that asshole that’s living with your mother not teach you anything?”
“Oh, yeah, he taught me a lot of things. Thanks to him I know the meaning of respect. I know the meaning of ‘father,’ I know good from bad, and right from wrong and using that knowledge I know you ain’t shit.”
“Boy, I brought you into this world and I can take you out. You better watch your mouth.”
“Mama brought me into this world. You were just the sperm donor, so you better watch your mouth, old man. Threatening me like that. I guess you carry a gun, don’t you?”
“I do and I’m not afraid to use it and I’m not afraid to go back to prison.”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about prison, I won’t tell on you for carrying an illegal gun. You’ll tell on yourself if you pull it on me.”
“If I do pull it out you won’t be telling anybody anything.”
“I won’t have to, old man. On my day in court the evidence will show that you threatened my life, so I had to use my registered, licensed to carry Ruger LC9 to put a round in between those ugly snake eyes of yours. I had to stand my ground, you know?
“Damn it, boy.”
“Don’t call me boy. You show some respect.”
“Son…”
“Don’t call me son, either. You’re not a father. You're a sperm donor.”
“Man, what can I say? I know I left you and your mother alone, but I was a young man myself, you know? I know I made mistakes. A lot of mistakes, but I’m here to say I’m sorry. Will you please forgive me?”
“Mama said a long time ago that she forgave you, so I did, too.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Until that door opened tonight you haven’t crossed my mind in fifteen or twenty years. If mama ever thinks about you, she doesn’t tell it. Thank God I got her face and not yours. If I looked or acted like you she might have to think about you. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to do that.”
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t expect anything. I was just hoping I could get a little help from my blood kin.”
“You’ve not been around here for thirty-five years and then you just stop by to say you’re sorry and hope we’ll forgive your sorry ass? We forgave you, but you also want a little help?”
“What’s done is done, boy, and I really do need a little help. I’m a very sick man. After all, son, you were my love child.”
“Your love child? You had nothing to do with my childhood and you never had any love for me. You blew your wad into mama, and you were the only one who loved that. What you call love is as shallow and vain as you are.”
“I need your help, dammit!”
“What kind of help do you need? Money? I don’t have any money.”
“I need a kidney transplant. I know that’s a lot to ask, but I’ll die without it”
“Hah, that’s karma, ain’t it? Thanks to you I’m diabetic and diabetics can’t spare a kidney. Say your prayers, old man. I forgave you and that’s all I can do for you. Now get the hell out.”
Will Wilson writes in the woods near Rutherfordton, NC USA. His wife inspires much of the dialog in his head. He lives in the woods because the dog and two cats want it that way.
Picture courtesy of Warner Bros/Kobal Collection
