Prompt #5: Oubaitori
Aug. 8th, 2024 01:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inkstainedfingertipsMy grandfather—Papa—looks down and sighs heavily then grunts as he sits down on the log beside me, a reminder that Papa is getting older. I don’t like to think about that. He knows whenever I’m having some trouble, I like to come out to this spot in the woods. I like the peace and quiet out here as well as the scent of the forest around me. This is where I come when I need to get my head together.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I reply.
He hands me the caramel Frappuccino he’d picked up—something he always does when he knows I’m having a tough time—and together, we sit side by side in silence for a little while. I take comfort in his presence. Always have. After my parents died, he took me in and raised me. He’s been a father, friend, and confidant. Papa understands me in ways nobody else does. In ways nobody else ever could. Papa is a great man.
“So, do you want to talk about it?” Papa asks.
I shrug. “He beat me again and rubbed it in my face. It made me mad.”
“The science fair?”
I nod. “Yeah. He took first place. I got second. Again.”
For years, I’ve been trying my best in everything, only to come in second to Cole Vaughn. Everything I do—grades, athletics, everything—he does better. Every. Single. Time. Worse, as we’ve gotten older and that gap between us has become more pronounced, Cole has started making fun of me for it. He’s started calling me “Number Two,” a not so subtle reference to the bodily function. Papa thought I was being too sensitive about it, but for a week straight, he and his friends left piles of shit in my locker at school just to make sure I understood the dig.
“You can’t let people get under your skin like that, you know,” Papa says. “They’re not worth it. Letting them push you into acting out rather than remaining in control is only going to lead to you getting into trouble. Use your head, not your heart, kid.”
“I know that. Up here,” I say, tapping my head. “But when he was in my face, laughing at me for losing to him again, I just… it made me really mad.”
“Believe me, I get that. There have been plenty of times I’ve been pushed to the edge like that. But you have to learn to control your emotions.”
“How did you learn to do that?”
“My father taught me. My father taught me everything I know,” he says. “And now, I’m trying to pass on all of that knowledge to you.”
“I’m trying. I really am,” I tell him.
“I know you are. It’s a process. I know you’ll get there though. You’re smart. Driven. And you’re incredibly talented. You’ve got more talent than I had at your age,” he says.
Papa spends a lot of time teaching me the ways of his world. He shows me different ways of seeing things and is helping me learn to focus. To use my head and not my heart. The lessons obviously don’t always take, but he’s never deterred and continues trying to help me learn the ways he was taught when he was a kid.
“You know, when I was about your age, I had a problem with a kid just like this Cole idiot. Peter was his name,” Papa says. “He always thought he was better than me at most everything. Wasn’t shy about telling me either. He and his buddies made a sport out of bullying me.”
“What did you do?”
“Swallowed down all that anger and focused on myself,” he replies. “I made something of myself. I became a success in life. Made so much money that it freed me up to live my life the way I wanted and to do the things I wanted to do. I made sure Peter knew it and ended up having the last laugh. But it all started with learning how to control myself.”
“Do you want to know what my father told me when I was in a position almost exactly like you’re in right now?” Papa asks. “Honestly, it’s the thing I think that helped me the most.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That comparing yourself to anybody is only letting them win. In my case, Peter was bigger and at the time. Smarter. For whatever reason, he blossomed before I did. But in time, I got bigger. Stronger. Smarter. I came into my own later, in my own time. We all do. You need to remember that no two people are going to blossom at the same time, kid,” Papa says. “Yeah, maybe Cole is getting the better of you right now, but in time, you’re going to come into your own and you’ll be getting the better of him and those like him. I promise you that. We all bloom differently. Look at JK Rowling… she didn’t bloom until her fifties.”
“Yeah, but she’s a bigoted asshole, so…”
Papa laughs. “Just stop comparing yourself to this guy. Or anybody, for that matter. It’s only going to stunt your own growth. It’s only going to pull your focus away from where it needs to be. Focus on yourself and yourself alone.”
We both fall silent again as I absorb his words. I look up through the branches of the trees and see the fiery orange and red hues of the sky overhead left behind by the retreating sun. This time of day when the day is giving way to night, it’s like we’re caught between two different worlds. It’s a feeling I understand.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Papa asks.
I nod. “I do. I understand. And I’m sorry I lost control today. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Good. That’s good,” he says. “You’re destined to do some great things in this world, kid. You just need to learn to use your head and control your emotions because you’ll never get there if you lose control like this. That’s all. I know you can do it.”
“Thanks, Papa.”
“Are you good?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
I give him a smile. “I’m sure.”
Papa pats my leg and gets to his feet. “Go ahead and finish cleaning this up,” he says. “I’m grilling some steaks tonight and we can talk about this some more if you want.”
“Sounds good,” I reply. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
I take a sip of my drink and watch as Papa heads back down the trail that leads to the house. He doesn’t move as well as he used to. He’s a little stiffer. I don’t like thinking about his mortality or living in a world without him. But there’s a small piece of me that’s excited, knowing that one day, I’ll step into his shoes and build on the family legacy. A legacy started by his father and one that Papa furthered. One day, I’ll make my own mark and build on that legacy too.
After finishing up my drink, I throw it into the hole beside me. It bounces off Cole’s face and rolls to the side. Picking up the shovel and before filling in the rest of the hole, I pause and look down at his wide, lifeless eyes and smile. Yeah, I lost control this time. But I have to admit, watching the life draining from his eyes as I killed him felt good.
Really, really good.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I reply.
He hands me the caramel Frappuccino he’d picked up—something he always does when he knows I’m having a tough time—and together, we sit side by side in silence for a little while. I take comfort in his presence. Always have. After my parents died, he took me in and raised me. He’s been a father, friend, and confidant. Papa understands me in ways nobody else does. In ways nobody else ever could. Papa is a great man.
“So, do you want to talk about it?” Papa asks.
I shrug. “He beat me again and rubbed it in my face. It made me mad.”
“The science fair?”
I nod. “Yeah. He took first place. I got second. Again.”
For years, I’ve been trying my best in everything, only to come in second to Cole Vaughn. Everything I do—grades, athletics, everything—he does better. Every. Single. Time. Worse, as we’ve gotten older and that gap between us has become more pronounced, Cole has started making fun of me for it. He’s started calling me “Number Two,” a not so subtle reference to the bodily function. Papa thought I was being too sensitive about it, but for a week straight, he and his friends left piles of shit in my locker at school just to make sure I understood the dig.
“You can’t let people get under your skin like that, you know,” Papa says. “They’re not worth it. Letting them push you into acting out rather than remaining in control is only going to lead to you getting into trouble. Use your head, not your heart, kid.”
“I know that. Up here,” I say, tapping my head. “But when he was in my face, laughing at me for losing to him again, I just… it made me really mad.”
“Believe me, I get that. There have been plenty of times I’ve been pushed to the edge like that. But you have to learn to control your emotions.”
“How did you learn to do that?”
“My father taught me. My father taught me everything I know,” he says. “And now, I’m trying to pass on all of that knowledge to you.”
“I’m trying. I really am,” I tell him.
“I know you are. It’s a process. I know you’ll get there though. You’re smart. Driven. And you’re incredibly talented. You’ve got more talent than I had at your age,” he says.
Papa spends a lot of time teaching me the ways of his world. He shows me different ways of seeing things and is helping me learn to focus. To use my head and not my heart. The lessons obviously don’t always take, but he’s never deterred and continues trying to help me learn the ways he was taught when he was a kid.
“You know, when I was about your age, I had a problem with a kid just like this Cole idiot. Peter was his name,” Papa says. “He always thought he was better than me at most everything. Wasn’t shy about telling me either. He and his buddies made a sport out of bullying me.”
“What did you do?”
“Swallowed down all that anger and focused on myself,” he replies. “I made something of myself. I became a success in life. Made so much money that it freed me up to live my life the way I wanted and to do the things I wanted to do. I made sure Peter knew it and ended up having the last laugh. But it all started with learning how to control myself.”
“Do you want to know what my father told me when I was in a position almost exactly like you’re in right now?” Papa asks. “Honestly, it’s the thing I think that helped me the most.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That comparing yourself to anybody is only letting them win. In my case, Peter was bigger and at the time. Smarter. For whatever reason, he blossomed before I did. But in time, I got bigger. Stronger. Smarter. I came into my own later, in my own time. We all do. You need to remember that no two people are going to blossom at the same time, kid,” Papa says. “Yeah, maybe Cole is getting the better of you right now, but in time, you’re going to come into your own and you’ll be getting the better of him and those like him. I promise you that. We all bloom differently. Look at JK Rowling… she didn’t bloom until her fifties.”
“Yeah, but she’s a bigoted asshole, so…”
Papa laughs. “Just stop comparing yourself to this guy. Or anybody, for that matter. It’s only going to stunt your own growth. It’s only going to pull your focus away from where it needs to be. Focus on yourself and yourself alone.”
We both fall silent again as I absorb his words. I look up through the branches of the trees and see the fiery orange and red hues of the sky overhead left behind by the retreating sun. This time of day when the day is giving way to night, it’s like we’re caught between two different worlds. It’s a feeling I understand.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Papa asks.
I nod. “I do. I understand. And I’m sorry I lost control today. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Good. That’s good,” he says. “You’re destined to do some great things in this world, kid. You just need to learn to use your head and control your emotions because you’ll never get there if you lose control like this. That’s all. I know you can do it.”
“Thanks, Papa.”
“Are you good?”
I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
I give him a smile. “I’m sure.”
Papa pats my leg and gets to his feet. “Go ahead and finish cleaning this up,” he says. “I’m grilling some steaks tonight and we can talk about this some more if you want.”
“Sounds good,” I reply. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
I take a sip of my drink and watch as Papa heads back down the trail that leads to the house. He doesn’t move as well as he used to. He’s a little stiffer. I don’t like thinking about his mortality or living in a world without him. But there’s a small piece of me that’s excited, knowing that one day, I’ll step into his shoes and build on the family legacy. A legacy started by his father and one that Papa furthered. One day, I’ll make my own mark and build on that legacy too.
After finishing up my drink, I throw it into the hole beside me. It bounces off Cole’s face and rolls to the side. Picking up the shovel and before filling in the rest of the hole, I pause and look down at his wide, lifeless eyes and smile. Yeah, I lost control this time. But I have to admit, watching the life draining from his eyes as I killed him felt good.
Really, really good.
no subject
on 2024-08-13 12:07 am (UTC)