9. Colt
9
colt
Two weeks whiz by, and I get several more prestigious college acceptances and finally work up the courage to talk to my father. It’s not gonna be easy, but it’s definitely the right thing. I’m not meant to be in the military. I’m not that breed, I wish that I were. There are sturdy and stalwart humans who I’m incredibly grateful for, but I can do more good here than in the military. I’m not meant to be away from her like that, and I cannot toe the line for my father anymore. I’m his son, not set dressing or a chess piece. I’m hoping the rational man sees that.
This is it, time to be the man he raised me to be. I’m pacing and he picks up on the second ring. To his credit, he always takes our calls.
“Son, don’t really have time for anything today but I am proud of you and your accomplishments.” His pat response to when we call during work.
“Dad, it can’t wait.”
“Colton, are you okay?”
“Yes. But I met someone and it’s serious.”
He scoffs. “How serious can you be? It’s been a blip of time, son. We can discuss it when you come home. Make me proud.” His forever edict. Make me proud.
“Dad! Do not dismiss me.” I back up my tone of voice to the measured timbre he taught us is effective in negotiation. “What I mean to say is, I’m not going to Annapolis. That’s your journey, not mine.” My entire body feels like it’s one giant dry heave. There’s a long pause, and I hold my breath.
“You’ll stay enrolled, go ahead and accept wherever you think you want to go, and we’ll discuss this when you come home for the fundraiser in a couple of weeks.”
“Not coming home until I’m done here. I’ll tape a message for your website, and I’ll pose for pictures here, but not coming home. I love you, but I have to start to do things differently.”
“I don’t appreciate this tone. But I do not have time to discuss. Watch yourself. Do not think with your dick, son. A hotel room is one thing but throwing away what we’ve worked so hard to achieve is quite another.” Of course, he knows about the hotel room.
“You’ve worked hard. I’ve just done what I was told.”
“This is a finished conversation.”
It’s an automatic response, “Yes, sir.”
“Better. Do not disregard this open opportunity. That’s enough right now. I’ve stepped away from a meeting and have to go. Take care, my boy. Call your mother.”
There’s got to be a way to not go to the Academy. I will fucking find it. She makes me feel like I can finally stand on my own. I’ll go to Oregon and defer school until I decide where to go. I understand myself in a way I never have, and no one else ever will. She makes me believe I can be strong. Do the right thing and do the right thing for not only myself. But her.