Riverdale : Our Town - Season 1 (English version)

Chapter 6 (Archie) - "From father to son"

Sitting under the porch, with my guitar on my knees, I let loose as the melody unfolds. Music is like a refuge : it allows me to escape, by forgetting all my problems. I have to admit how rough this 1st day of school was. Indeed, I remember my short exchange with Miss Grundy in the high school stairs, then our meeting in the music room after lunch. I was sitting in front of her, concerned, waiting patiently for her verdict on my songs.

"They are...very authentic. Very personal.", she said to me once she'd removed her headphones.

"I followed your advice and worked really hard.", I confessed. "But could you help me ?"

"What for, Archie ?", she answered, with perplexity.

"You graduated from Julliard, Miss Grundy ! There is no one in Riverdale who knows better about music than you !"

"I don't think it is a good idea. We shouldn't see each other anymore.", she replied, while I looked at her, disappointed. "I mean, if you are trying to revive something that should've never happened..."

"No. Not at all.", I interrupted. "I'm doing this for music.", I assured, before marking a pause. "But also... I need to talk to someone about what happened that day. We heard things, and despite this, we did nothing.", I said, outraged. "We didn't spoke about it."

"How would you explain that we were together at Sweetwater River, on the 4th July ?"

I then remind myself of that famous morning. Geraldine and I had arranged a meeting the day before, in order to spend the night under the stars, interlaced. We were awoken with a start around 6 p.m. The muffled bang we'd heard wasn't the noise of the watercourse, nor of fireworks... We immediately exchanged a gaze : no need to be hunter to recognise a gunshot...

"You're right, we didn't tell anything. But we must live with this burden on the conscience.", continued Geraldine with seriousness. "You should continue in the music, Archie. But not with me."

Thinking about her words still get on my nerves. In order to exteriorize all this frustration, I scratch some notes on my guitar, but I'm devolved by footsteps in my back. It's my dad, who approaches me hesitantly, with a grave face. I feel like he wants to have a serious discussion.

"Your coach called me earlier.", he begins. "It seems he believes that you refuse to play in the senior team because I force you to work for the company. That's strange...", he says ironically. "Yet you let me think that you couldn't work for me because of football !"

I cash out his reprimands, feeling guilty, head down. I rethink about the 2nd event that marked my day, when coach Clayton gave me the iconic shirt number 9, announcing me that I would take the place of Jason Blossom in the senior team. At this moment, I think I panicked a little facing all those responsibilities...

"So 1st question.", continues my dad. "Who are you lying to ? Me or your coach ?"

"Neither.", I begin, before giving in under the power of paternal authority. "Ok, both."

He sighs, as if he'd guessed my fault since the beginning. I know how much honesty is important to him, and I don't like to disappoint him.

"Dad... I want to study music, I wanna compose.", I confess, waiting for his immediate refusal, which doesn't take long to arrive.

"Football leads to college, and college leads to business school. And ...", he says, in his moralizing tone.

"And it brings me back here.", I cut him. "Working for you, in Riverdale !"

"Not for me. With me.", he says, getting closer. "And later for your own, son. When this company will be yours.", he adds proudly.

"Don't take it badly, dad... But I don't want it."

"3 months ago you would tell otherwise.", he retorts, with misunderstanding. "What happened ?"

"I've changed.", I sigh. "My life has changed. This summer..."

"This summer, what ?", asks my father, with his implorant gaze.

One summer can change everything. Toni Morrison's quote comes back to my memory. What happened this summer is the reason of my new behavior. I'm aware of being more secretive, withdrawn, and sometimes on edge. I'm afraid of losing the people that I love, but I'm also doing it to protect them. The truth can be too dangerous, that's why I'm staying silent, even if front of my dad.

"So that's it ? We don't talk anymore ?", he interrogates me, before walking away, disappointed.

"Dad !", I call him.

"I would never force you to play football !", he exclaims. "I don't care, in fact. And you're not obligated to work with or for me, it's over.", he adds, looking me right in the eye. "But one advice, from father to son : all the decisions you will take will have consequences. They will define who you are, and what you will be. So whatever you decide, be confident enough, to assume your choices."