Last Friday, when I returned home from work, I was looking forward to a splendid weekend: fishing, drinking beer and relaxing with my friends somewhere as far away from the city as possible. But, an unexpected phone call destroyed all these plans. The headmistress of a summer camp was calling, and she was furious with the behavior of my son:
“I demand that you take away your son from our camp at once,” she demanded sternly.
“At once? What do you mean? Surely the matter can wait a day or two…” I tried to reason with her.
“NO! We are not going to keep your son in our camp any longer! And if you refuse to come and take him away AT ONCE, we will have no choice but to file a lawsuit against you! You have no legal right to force that unmanageable child of yours upon us!” she cried.
“All right! All right! I’m coming as soon as I can,” I acquiesced.
So, I had no other choice but to go and take my son from that camp. When I arrived there, I asked for the headmistress and was shown to her office.
“Could you please explain what this is all about?” I asked the headmistress.
“Gladly,” she replied. “The reason for my call was horrible, absolutely intolerable behavior on behalf of your son. He disregarded the rules of this camp since his first day here. But last night he surpassed himself. I do not know why he did it, but he, along with his roommates, had barricaded the door of their room and started shouting and beating on the pipes in the middle of the night, waking the entire camp. When a caretaker tried to get into the room they started shouting even louder. When he had finally entered the room, they broke the window and jumped out of it! Can you believe it?!”
“I most certainly can’t! My son couldn’t possibly do something as foolish as this!” I said.
“Let me show you,” she said and led me to my son’s room.
The room was a mess. The door and the window were broken. A crumpled metal bucket lay on the floor along with a broken swab. The entire room was strewn with broken glass. How could this happen? Was it my parental love that blinded me to the fact that my son had become a real monster? If so, who is to blame and what is to be done? But it was unlikely that I could find the answers soon. So, I turned to the mistress and said:
“I’m so ashamed of my son’s behavior. I never thought he could do something like this. Of cause, I will take him home immediately. But I believe I owe you the compensation for the broken property. I’ll pay that at once.”
“It is 100$ for the door, 75$ for the window, 50$ for the furniture, and 15$ for the bucket and a swab – 250$ in all.” The headmistress said.
When I paid the money, she escorted me to my son. He greeted me, but I grabbed him by the collar and pushed him roughly into the car. Then I bid farewell to the headmistress, whose facial expression at that moment reminded me strongly of Mona Lisa, and drove off.
“Wait till your mother hears about this!” I snapped at my son.
“That’s what I’m waiting for,” he said.
“I bet you think that she will have some pity for you. But she will not, for this time I have the proof!”
“Proof of what exactly?”
“Proof of what a heartless monster you’ve become. A material evidence of your shameless, cruel, and selfish nature.”
“Can I see that evidence, dad?” he asked.
“Here you go,” I said, giving him the receipt the headmistress had given me.
“TWO HUNDRED FIFTY BUCKS?! WHAT ON EARTH FOR?!” he murmured.
“For the broken property of the camp. I hope that you don’t have enough audacity to deny that you’ve actually broken the window and the furniture in your room, not to mention waking the entire camp in the middle of the night,” I said.
“Well,” he replied, “we, that is me and four of my roommates, did barricade the door in our room with furniture and when the caretaker had broken in, we smashed the window and jumped out of it.”
“Then I don’t understand why you are looking forward to seeing your mom. Because after what you have done even she will see you for what you really are – a cruel and selfish monster.”
“And how do my actions make me a monster?” he asked.
This was the final straw. His calm demeanor and lack of remorse simply pissed me off. I was furious.
“Only a very selfish person would wake the entire camp in the middle of a night, destroy property and make his dad pay 250 bucks for his misbehavior. But you know, it takes a real monster not to see the wickedness of such actions. You are grounded for the rest of the summer and you will see a psychiatrist tomorrow. I no longer want to talk to you.”
“Dad! But why wouldn’t you listen to my point of view?!”
“I’ve heard enough. Now be silent!” I said,
“Now you understand why I want to see mom?” he asked.
“Be quiet!” I snapped at him, and the rest of the journey we spent in silence.
Eventually, we arrived at home.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be away from town? Summer camp is not over yet, and you wanted to go fishing with some friends, didn’t you?” my wife asked me when we entered. I told her about what happened. At first, she looked dumbstruck.
“What were you thinking of? Why on earth would anyone do something like this?” she finally asked her son. So, he began explaining his motives:
“It all started on the previous evening. The entire camp was gathered around the bonfire. These evening fires, because of mosquitoes and headmistress’s dull lectures about “proper behavior”, were simply loathed by every kid in the camp. But the camp administration believed that these bonfires played a very important role - it made us tired and consequently less prone to all kinds of mischievous activity at night, like painting each other with toothpaste. Nevertheless, nightly activities were perhaps the most exciting part of that camp, in which we all actively participated to the great annoyance of the headmistress. And on that evening she seems to have found an ingenious solution to this problem.
The evening I’m talking about stated as usual. But suddenly a man in police uniform appeared and asked for our attention. He claimed that a homicidal maniac, who was serving his life sentence in a nearby “supermax” prison for his crimes against kids (here the “policeman” described all the gruesome details of this maniac’s deeds – how he raped, ate and tortured people), had escaped and was believed to be hiding in the vicinity of our camp. So he urged us not to wander around the camp at night under any circumstances, not to make any noise, never leave the sight of the elders during the day, etc. Now I realize, how suspiciously similar to our headmistress this “policeman” sounded, but during that night we were too scared to think straight. Then, the headmistress told us to go to the beds. So we did, but none of us could sleep, for we all were too frightened. We just lay awake and discussed what should we do in case we encounter him. We arrived at a conclusion that running away from him as fast as possible was our best chance for survival. But then, we suddenly heard some footsteps in the corridor.
“Can it really be HIM?” I asked a roommate.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to find out! Let’s barricade the door! Then, if he tries to enter, we will have a chance to escape from him through the window!” was his anxious reply.
So we started barricading the door. This “maniac” (which, as we later learned, was just a caretaker) heard us and tried to open the door. At first, we were quiet. However, we soon realized that not only we, but all other kids in the camp were in danger – possibly asleep and oblivious to it. We considered it our duty to raise an alarm and started making as much noise as we could by shouting for help and beating a metal bucket with a swab. The “maniac” started breaking the door. When the door had finally given way, we broke the window and jumped out of the building.”
“Am I supposed to buy this rigmarole you have just invented?” I asked my son.
“It is not rigmarole! And besides, you don’t have to take my word for it – other kids from the camp can corroborate my story!” replied my son indignantly.
“So you expect me to make a fool of myself by making some idiotic inquiries?”
“Look,” my wife intervened, “However ridiculous his story might sound, it can be easily verified”
“And why do you think we should waste our time and effort on verification of such an obvious lie?” I asked her astonishingly.
“Because, if we expect him to become a decent man, we must not treat him unjustly. And the justice implies that the decision to punish anybody must depend not on anyone’s personal will, but solely on a careful and coherent consideration of all available facts” was her reply.
àäðåñà: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=745674
Ðóáðèêà: Ëèðèêà ëþáâè
äàòà íàäõîäæåííÿ 11.08.2017
àâòîð: Mark Antony