Page 52 - SOUTHERN VOICES_2020

“I’ll try, but you have to as well. I’m not going to share my personal life if you refuse to share yours as well.”
Klaus had paused for a moment to swallow loudly before showing a rare smile, then said, “Okay.”
It took them a couple hours to get a conversation going, but over the course of two weeks they managed to communicate and learn a lot about each other as
they grew closer together driving through state after state to check out national landmarks such as the Grand Canyon to wacky attractions like the world’s largest ball of twine. Before Luke knew it, they had turned around in Oregon and had taken a separate route home to drive through more of the cities than fields to stop at a few museums along the way. Seven days later, they had arrived back in Luke’s hometown of Sherman, Georgia; he was surprised that he had actually enjoyed himself on a road trip with the man who had hounded him all his life. Luke knew that Klaus realized his time was up; he took his time to back into the McDonald’s parking lot. Scratching his head from nervousness he said, “I hope you had fun and enjoyed yourself, Luke. It was great actually getting to know my son for a change. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
Luke had felt his heart jump into his throat because he wanted to say yes. He wanted to be like every other normal person in this world and feel the love of a father; but his gut told him he shouldn’t. His saying yes would only bring him more pettiness and belittling of his accomplishments that his father had done since he was a child. Acting kind once was not going to erase the past like his father might have hoped. Eighteen years of abuse was eighteen years too late to pretend nothing had happened.
With a look of determination in his eyes Luke had responded, “I had fun, but I have no intention of doing this or seeing you again. Though I do forgive you, I can’t forget the eighteen years of abuse I have suffered. It’s time for me to be free to live life by my own terms. Goodbye, Dad. I wish you the best.”
With tears in his eyes, Klaus had given Luke a firm handshake and whispered, “I love you. You’ll always be my son.”
Luke had nodded, “I know,” before opening the car door and walking into McDonald’s to wait for his mother to pick him up.r
Somber Daisies
Gina Nguyen
Painting—acrylic
Grandmother
Felicity Browning
Grandmother washes away worries with Windex,
Makes beds and memories;
Grandmother smells of bleach and the beach;
Her hair tied with a rubber band, she strips away grime, Holds our hands when our hearts have committed treason, Washes away the secrets only sheets know,
Whisks us up good Southern cooking.
After hours of hunching over tiled walls and dirty laundry
baskets,
Grandmother never complains until the pain engulfs her. Still, she tucks us into our starched sheets
Just as her clients do their children after her hard day’s work. She says her work is insignificant,
That I will go on to do bigger and better things:
Don’t you dare become some housekeeper like me, kid.
She doesn’t know of the housekeeping I wish to do.
I want to be the cause of wide smiles,
The kisser of hurt knees,
The magical enigma she has always been.
Grandmother is the rag worn out from hours of cleaning, Filled with debris only generations can bring;
You come to see it as something tattered, abused—
But looking at the shiny floors and countertops,
You can’t help but feel grateful.
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