Jimmy and Dad argued again last night at dinner. Or rather, Jimmy argued at Dad because it’s always that way. Jimmy mouths off about something and stirs things up for no good reason. Dad stays calm and tries to reason with him. But Jimmy doesn’t care; he doesn’t listen. He just waits until Dad pauses to breath and then he jumps back in with his complaining. I honestly don’t know how Dad puts up with it. Or why! His son is such a little jerk. Yeah, I know he’s my brother, but somehow it doesn’t seem like it.
[Later]
Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be Dad’s son. What an arrogant, self-satisfied little....... We were breaking bread together last night, after a hard day’s work, when he blurts out that he wants to go away. He’s not interested in farming, he says. He wants to go out and see the world, he says. It’s hard living with us, he says. I asked him, jokingly, how he thought he was going to pay for this little trip? He didn’t answer, but turned to Dad and said, “Dad, I would like for you to give me my inheritance right now. You love me, right? You won’t deny me that, will you? Mom always said she wanted us to be happy and to be happy I’ve got to go.”
When he mentioned Mom, everything went red. I punched him as hard as I could. How dare he mention her like that. How dare he! Dad pulled us apart and gave me a hurt look, like it was my fault. I had to leave I was so mad. One of the servants told me later that Dad actually agreed to give Jimmy the inheritance. I don’t see how. Dad’s wealth is the land. What’s he going to do? Sell it?
I’m still mad about Jimmy mentioning Mom like that, but the more I think about it the more I realize he treated Dad like garbage. You don’t demand your inheritance from your own father; that’s like wishing him dead. And with Mom already gone? That’s just sick.
[Later]
What an absolute mess our lives have become. I’m still mad at my father for giving in about the inheritance. Just because Jimmy demanded it didn’t mean that Dad had to bend over backwards to give it to him. We had to sell off the southern fields in order to get the money together. That’s where Mom used to take us in the summer time because of the shade of the pomegranate trees on the far side. And then by late August they were ripe enough to eat. I remember digging around, trying to get out every last bit of fruit, getting juice stains all over my fingers and face. Jimmy probably doesn’t remember that since he was still little. And when Mom died we didn’t go there anymore. Not like that. And now we won’t have the chance to do so again. I’m surprised that Dad can bear to part with it, but I suppose it was that grove of pomegranate trees that got the nice price.
Jimmy said he was leaving as soon as he had the cash in hand. ...... I hate him.
[Later]
I came home early from the fields last night. Coming over the rise I was surprised to see Dad sitting next to the field. Actually I was worried that he’d come down sick or had a heart attack. So I ran towards him, calling out, “Dad, Dad, are you alright?” He scrambled to his feet, looking somewhat abashed. “Dad, are you okay?” “Yes I’m fine,” he said. “What were you doing?” “Just resting. It’s been a warm day and it must have gotten to me.” It seemed a little odd to me at the time, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. But I think it’s because of the way he was staring. He wasn’t looking down, like he was tired, even though he seems awfully weary these days. He was staring off into the distance.
[Later]
It’s happened a few times now, that I’ve caught Dad staring off into the distance. It took me a while to figure it out. It’s not that he’s staring off at nothing; he’s staring down the road; he’s looking for something;...... he’s sitting there waiting for Jimmy to come back. It gave me a shiver when I finally understood. He’s pining for the son who stabbed him in the back. And once I figured that out, I started noticing all kinds of little things: Dad hardly talks at dinner anymore. He’s been letting me run things more and more. I thought it was because he trusted me and knew I was doing a good job. But I think it’s because he’s busy mourning the loss of Jimmy. Well what about me?! To hell with it, if he’s going to keep moping around after that son of his, then I’m not going to bother with him. There’s plenty of work to do and it appears that I’m the only one interested in getting it done.
[Later]
Things have settled in pretty nicely these days. I’ve been making some improvements on the northern fields and the last few harvests have come in really well. So well, in fact, that when old Jacob died, we were able to redeem the southern fields from him. I’m still amazed at how things came together to make that happen, but I pulled it off. When Dad dies, I am going to have myself quite a nice little estate. I still love him. I just don’t understand him. I don’t understand how he let himself get manipulated like that. Maybe he’s just weak and I didn’t know it before. You know? I think he’d actually forgive Jimmy if he ever came back. He’s never gotten over it. Dad would welcome Jimmy with open arms....... Not me. If Jimmy came back penniless and naked, I would make him beg and kiss my feet.
[Later]
He came back. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it, but he really came back. It happened just as I’d guessed. Dad had mercy on him and threw him a party. It was quite the party, so I hear, but I couldn’t go in. Dad came out and talked with me. He knew I was mad. I let him have it...... and then he said some things. And then he put his arms around me and whispered that he loved me too. And I wanted so much to stay angry. I wanted him to admit that none of this was fair. I wanted him to apologize. I wanted all of the hurt from all of the years to be taken away. And he stood there and hugged me as I started to sob. “I don’t ever want to lose you, son. It would break my heart.”
No comments:
Post a Comment