“U-hum, well, I don’t remember all of their names, but a lot of the medals went to guys from Japan and the Soviet Union—you know, those guys in the red jackets.” Stephen began to sink back into his chair, fearing what was about to happen.

“Excuse me?” Stephen’s father turned to Amelia, “You let my son watch a bunch of communists play their little sport all afternoon?” He had raised his voice just enough to not to be considered yelling.

“I didn’t know what he was watching. Plus, he kept shouting and saying wow, and seemed amazed. Then I heard him cheer for USA once, so I figured all the other shouts were for other athletes, but I don’t see what the problem is. I think you’re just seeing smoke where there isn’t any,” Amelia replied calmly.

“I’m what?” Stephen’s father said just a little louder than before.

Amelia locked eyes with him.

“Dad, I wasn’t cheering for the—”

“Not now!” His father barked, being deliberately loud this time.

Stephen’s parents stared wordlessly at each other.

Stephen could feel the tension grow as the silence continued.

Stephen’s father was the first to break off the eerie stare-down as he turned to Stephen and said, “I want you to listen to me and listen good. I don’t want you watching anymore gymnastics, you hear me?” He leaned in and pointed his finger at Stephen.

“That’s not fair though!” Stephen exclaimed.

“I don’t care whether you think it’s fair or not! No son of mine is going to spend a single minute admiring a bunch of commies. You’re going to forget about all those fancy little propaganda tricks you saw today, and you’re going to focus on your training and make sure you make that football team. That’s the end of this.” His father settled back into his chair and returned to his meal.

Stephen gathered his breath and gathered the courage to finally tell his father about the plan he’d come up with. “Well, I wasn’t actually going to try out for the football team.”

“What?” Stephen’s father stopped eating again. It was just one word composed of four commonly used letters, but at that moment the way his father had used it made it seem as if everything in the room had vanished and suddenly it was just the two of them. His father appeared to become monstrous and tower over Stephen just from the tone of voice he used.

“What did I just hear you say, boy?”

Stephen had already envisioned an entire future based on his new goal, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. “I-I said that I-I was thinking of not trying out f-for the football team.” Sweat instantly formed on his forehead, and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

Stephen’s father locked eyes with his son as he readjusted his position and leaned back in his seat, one hand slightly cocked, the palm open.

Stephen broke eye contact, glancing at his father’s open palm. He remembered the last time he’d been slapped, and his fear began to turn into terror, but this didn’t deter him from speaking.

“It’s just that I don’t really like football. I know we’ve watched it together for years now, and it’s fun watching with you, but I never really had any interest in playing it. When we play catch it’s sort of fun for a little, but it gets boring, and then today when I saw those athletes doing all those moves, I thought it was the coolest thing ever, and I want to know if I could do that too. I’m pretty sure the high school has a gymnastics team, and I thought that I could maybe try out for that instead.”

His eyebrows raised, Stephen’s father readjusted his position again, bringing his arm even further back.

“Honey.” Amelia called to her husband, attempting to calm him down, but failed as Stephen’s father ignored her entirely.

Stephen saw the change and tried to think of a way to placate him. “I’m still going to box, of course, and go to tournaments and fights on the weekends. And I’ll still watch football with you every weekend too! I just really don’t want to play it. I’d rather see if I’m any good at gymnastics.”

His father just stared at him for a moment. His father’s hand relaxed and he went back to eating. Amelia refrained from any further comments with Stephen present although, like her son, she watched her husband closely.

Stephen was conflicted but decided against saying anything else and took his father’s silence as a good sign, but the moment he picked up his fork his father snatched away his plate and placed it on the floor in front of Kane.

“Hey! I wasn’t finished!” Stephen cried.

His father refrained from looking at him again, sitting back down to his meal.

Amelia, shocked, also looked at her husband in confusion.

“Hello?” Stephen waved a hand in front of his father’s face.

“If you want to eat in this house, piss in this house, sleep in this house, or stay in this house, then you’re going to play football and forget about gymnastics.” His father said this so coldly Stephen could almost see his breath.

“What?” Stephen tried to mimic his father, but he lacked the foreboding element.

Tags: Mathew A. Silva Suspense
Source: readsnovelonline.net