“You’re the next generation, son, you have to learn the ropes.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Ah now, son! Why would you not wish to follow in your old dad’s footsteps, and that of his dad and his before him?”
“I don’t think it’s an honourable profession.” Kicks at gravel.
“Honourable! How can you say that? It’s been our profession since the days of horse and buggy. We adapted to the coming of the motor car, didn’t we? How can you say it’s not honourable.”
“Well it’s not, it’s dishonest.” Hands in pockets.
“Dishonest! And what would you call those gougers in government? What would you call shareholders and CEOs in the banks and the insurance trade. Dishonest! Not an honest man among them and you call into question the honour of your families profession?”
“We get our earnings by dishonest means. That’s not honourable.” Head down, pouting.
“Us and 90% of the rest of the population.”
“That’s semantics. We get money through trickery. I want no part of it. I want to do something honourable.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Maybe journalism.”
“Ha! You don’t think those fuckers cheat. Bringing severed limbs to accident sites and misrepresenting the truth.”
“They’re not all like that.”
“How would you know?”
Shrug
Silence
“Will you not give it a try? Just once?”
“No, I told you.”
Takes a drag on a cigarette and tosses it aside. “I don’t understand. I mean look around you. This house, your fancy schooling, the exotic vacations. If we didn’t have our profession, we’d have none of it.”
“It means nothing. I don’t want any of it.”
“You do realize your standard of living will drop considerably if you leave the fold.”
“It’s nothing against the family, Da, I just want a normal life.”
“But can’t you see, if you’re not for us you’re against us and we can’t have that.”
“Is that a threat?”
“We think of it from our point of view. Think of all you know. Having you loose in the world would not allow us to sleep any easier.”
“You’d threaten your own son?”
“I have the honour of the family to consider.”
Silence.
“I mean look at you. You have the perfect build for it. You’re athletic; you’re quick on your feet; good at gymnastics and judo. These are important skills. Uncle Benjy would be happy to put you through your paces again. Polish up the manoeuvres that are rusty. You used to love it as a kid. You were one of the best.”
“I was one when I was a kid?”
“You were indeed. Best we’d ever seen. Your timing was impeccable. They never knew what hit them. And of course, being a kid, the payoffs were terrific.” Lights another cigarette.
“How come I don’t remember?”
Shrugs “There was the concussion the one time. That might have done it.”
“And I was good at it?”
“You were. Made us pots of money. Best fall artist we ever had.”
“So you pimped me out even then?”
“Ah now son, don’t look at it like that.”
“I’m leaving Dad. I’m outta here.”
“Suit yourself.” Tosses the cigarette. Grinds it underfoot.
The garden gate clicks.
A screech of brakes. A thud.
“Mind your back there, son, mind your back.”
Clo Carey – September 2019
South Shore Scribes One Word prompt: fall
blog challenge “Fall” #SouthShoreScribesNS @www.emilybowers.ca @https://chasscribbless.blogspot.com @https://www.facebook.com/groups/1470587219691626 #Fall #nonsensewriting #amwriting #onewordprompt #OneWord
Teetering on the Edge 