One Last Chance

Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Cracks

A few minutes later, both boys were standing at Edward's front door. Daniel marvelled at the exquisitely carved statues that lined the driveway. A slight breeze blew, and Daniel watched as the lush green grass in the garden swayed and flowers seemed to dance.

Edward led him into his house. Books and magazines were scattered over the sofa and coffee table. Shirts were draped over chairs and an empty pizza box lay miserably on the floor. Everything was messy, but Daniel felt a sense of warmth and homeliness there. At his house, everything had to be neat and out of sight. It gave the feeling of emptiness and coldness.

"Daniel..."

Daniel realized that Edward had been talking to him, but he hadn't been listening.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said I was calling Pizza Hut to order our dinner."

"Okay."

Clearing a space, Daniel plopped down on the sofa and flipped through the TV channels. He came upon something he thought was worth watching and stopped. It was a drama serial. Daniel had never liked watching them, but something that day was attracting him. He couldn't explain it. But he knew why.

The scene was showing a father caning his young son. The son was made to bend down, holding his knees, then pull down his pants. The father swung the cane and the son screamed. This scene was repeated twice more, with the sadistic father landing the strokes at the same spot as the previous, and upon delivering the fourth stroke the cane snapped into two. The son had tears streaking down his face and the father screamed at him, "Real men don't cry!" The son heaved a sigh and ran off.......

Edward had been standing behind him all this time, and he snatched up the remote control. "You shouldn't be watching that!"

Daniel wasn't listening. That sorrowful sigh had stabbed deep into Daniel. The sigh resonated through him, stirring up something that had been buried for too long a time. Murmurs of his troubled and somewhat lonely past danced inside of him, and rose to a crescendo in his ears until they overpowered any other thought in his mind. Choking back a sob, he tried to stem the flow of memories. It was no use, like a heavily bleeding wound that refused to stop, even under direct pressure.

Unable to hold off the flood of memories any longer, Daniel relented and let himself drown in it, feeling each wave of regret, anger, shame, hope, disappointment and felt each episode vividly, as if it was the first time.

"No! Don't! Please..." Daniel sobbed. He fell to his knees. "Please, Dad, no..."

His father smirked. "Don't be such a baby. It's just a trophy. Made out of plastic, painted to look shiny and metallic. It isn't gold. It isn't even silver. It's a bronze. Bronze! Lousy! Why do you care so much for this? You can buy one for under ten dollars at the market!"

With that he gripped the base of the trophy and swung it at the rosewood table. The plastic cup shattered into pieces and tinkled to the marble floor. His father looked down. He saw shards of cheap plastic, easily replaced by money.

Daniel could hardly bear to look, but he did. And what he saw were broken pieces of a priceless treasure which he had lovingly polished every week.

Seemingly satisfied at the misery he had caused his son, his father left the house, a grin on his face and a spring on his step.

Daniel crawled over to the mound of shards, hot tears obscuring his vision. He felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He had shed blood, sweat and tears for the trophy. Now he had nothing to show for it. He fetched a tube of superglue and slowly, he tried to piece back his trophy. He knew it could be fixed, but the cracks would always be there. They would never disappear. It was the same with him.