First Draft Chapter 17

I knew better then to just walk up to Zeus and tell him I was done.  I knew exactly how that would go.  Zeus would scream at me that I was not in some little boys club anymore, I was in the FJC.  You couldn’t quit the FJC.  I would try and talk to him and he would just keep yelling and tell me that if I didn’t start running laps now he would beat the pulp out of me.  And that would be the end of that conversation.  I could see perfectly how it would unfold.
So instead of announcing I was quitting, I just slept in.  Actually, I slept until shortly after 5, and then my body wouldn’t let me sleep any longer so I just went to my desk and did homework for a while.  I could only imagine what was going on at FJC.
Zeus was probably surveying the Cadets, and noticing my absence immediately, and was making some vulgar joke about how I had probably been out late with some girl the night before.  A few smiles would appear on the Cadets’ faces, but no one would dare to laugh.  Then Zeus would say that if I didn’t show up soon he was going to cut my balls off and hang them on his wall.  About halfway through the session, Zeus would pause from harassing some poor Cadet to remember that I was still not there, and he would curse and storm off and start asking everyone if they knew why I wasn’t there.  Everyone would just kind of shrug and Zeus would get madder and madder and make threats about what he was going to do to me the next day, and that the only excuse for not showing up was if I was dead.
It was such a relief not being in FJC anymore.  I felt free, freer then I had felt in such a long time.  I felt like a huge weight that been removed from me, like I could breath all I wanted.  Like everyday for the rest of my life was mine.  I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do with them yet, but they were mine.  A week ago I would have trembled at images of a furious Zeus, but now I just laughed as I imagined him hopping around the field in anger.  What power did he have over me now?  He was only in charge of my life because I had let him be in charge of my life.  I stayed out late that night with Icarus and Hermes at the Cave, talking about life and studies and everything.
The next morning I couldn’t really sleep in either.  After two years, my body was just too used to waking up that early.  I woke up and studied again.  Zeus was probably looking over the Cadets about now.  He had probably forgotten all about my absence from the day before, until he noticed I was missing again and then it would all start flooding back to him.  He probably threw his clipboard down and cursed loudly and was so angry at my absence he couldn’t even think of a clever obscene comment.  He probably told all of the cadets that if they saw me later that day to let me know I was a dead man and I might want to leave town.  I paused briefly from my studies that morning to imagine Zeus, and I was briefly lost in thought as I smiled about the prospect.  Absent mindedly I chewed on the back of my pen, and as soon as I realized what I was doing I quickly went back to my studies.  Then I stopped myself.  It was good to relax.  It was good to take a couple minutes to laugh at Zeus.  I hadn’t been this happy in a long time.  That night I stayed out late with Hermes and Icarus again.  Those two were used to staying out late.  Every night of their college career they were out till three or four in the morning.  I eventually got so tired I couldn’t stay out with them, and went back early.  I had gotten so little sleep the night before.  That morning I slept in till 5:30.

It wasn’t long before my father found out about things.  I’m sure with his connections he was notified the first day I didn’t show up.  I suppose it is a credit to his patience that he waited as long as he did before he acted.  After I missed FJC for the fifth day in a row, one of the University administrators came all the way over to my dorm room to deliver me a message.  “Jonathon, your father wants to see you immediately.”
It was not a confrontation I looked forward too, but I biked home that night anyway.  There was no since in postponing the inevitable.  I arrived home just shortly after dark.  I wanted to make sure I didn’t disturb dinner time.  Did he and Abel even still eat together anymore?  Or with me gone had he given up on regular family dinners.
I rode my bike up to the house.  Same old yard, everything plant perfectly in its place.  Man’s dominance over nature firmly exhibited.  I walked through the well groomed yard and opened the door to the house timidly.
He heard it.  He had been waiting in the kitchen the whole time for me to show up, not in his study like I thought he would be.  “Jonathon, come in here!” he yelled out angrily.
I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.  He was standing by the table, his jug of alcohol was in his hand.  He took a big swig of it as soon as he saw me.  “Sit down,” he said, pushing a chair roughly toward me.  The chair slid noisily across the floor and ended up only a foot or so away from me.
The last thing I wanted was to use that chair.  That meant I would have to just sit there and look up at him well he yelled at me.  It would make him so much more intimidating.  Otherwise, I could just stand and he would have to look up at me.  “I’d rather stand,” I said.
And just that little bit sent him over the edge.  He slammed his jug down angrily on the table making a thundering sound.  Abel was probably up in his room studying right now and I bet he could even hear it.  “Sure Jonathon you can just do whatever you want!  That’s the principle you live your life by, isn’t it?  If I don’t want to do it, I don’t have to!  Everything revolves around me!”
“I just didn’t want to-“
“Fine, don’t sit down Jonathon!  You don’t want to sit down, I can’t make you!”  Already his voice was getting tired from yelling, and he took a drink to refresh himself.  “What kind of a kid are you Jonathon?  What did I do to deserve you?”
“Dad, listen.  I couldn’t take it anymore.  I hated it so much.  I wasn’t happy.”
“What does that mean?  Did you expect it to make you happy?  Do you think anyone joins FJC to be happy?”  He stopped his yelling to wait for a response, but I just stood there and looked back at him so he started up again.  “Do you think you’re the first person to go throw this?  I had to do FJC when I was your age.  Do you think anyone likes getting up that early?  No, but we toughed it out and we worked hard and it paid off for us.  So don’t expect to get any sympathy from me about this ‘I’m not happy,’ sob story of yours.”  Again he stopped, partly just to catch his breath.  He guzzled down some more of his alcohol.  I’m sure he half expected me to respond, but I didn’t know what to say so I just kept quiet.  Once he realized I didn’t have anything to say, he started talking again.  “Look Jonathon, do you think a job like mine just falls into my lap?  I was a nobody, and I worked my way up.  Every thing I have I earned.  I didn’t enjoy working hard, but I did it.  And now I have all this.”  He moved his arms around to indicate the large house.  “And you could have everything in your lap.  All you have to do is make it through a couple more years of FJC, and your golden.”
He stopped again and replenished himself with the liquid.  Years of bottled up anger and frustration exploded out of me in a way that was almost beyond my control.  “Dad I don’t want your job!” I yelled out.  It was as if I was trapped inside of my body watching someone else control me.  “Forget it, I don’t want to be like you.  I don’t want to work for the Duke!”
“Well then what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.  But not that?”
“What do you mean you don’t know.”
“I mean I don’t know.  Do I have to draw a diagram?  What’s so hard to understand about that?”  We were both shouting at each other.
My father took another drink, and tried to laugh, but he was so angry he couldn’t.  “How are you going to support yourself Jonathon?  What talents do you think you have?”  Another drink.  “Why you’re worthless.  What are you going to do, paint?  You can’t paint Jonathon, I’ve seen your stuff.  You’re wasting your time by going to those art guild meetings.”
He was attacking a sore spot.  I reacted defensively.  “I don’t care what you think about me.  That’s not important.  You can just go to hell for all I care!”  I yelled it out in an angry reaction to his attacks on me.  I didn’t really plan to yell it.  It was as if it just came out on its own.
“What kind of a son are you Jonathon?  What kind of a son says that to his father?”  He advanced angrily towards me, and I backed up instinctively.  “You know it’s your fault Abel’s getting into so much trouble at school.  He looked up to you Jonathon, and you were a bad role model for him.”
This was the first I had heard about this.  “What trouble?”
“That’s not important.”
“Why haven’t I heard about this before?”
He drew his head back as if surprised by the question.  “Because it doesn’t concern you.  It’s none of your business.  I’m his parent, I’ll handle it.”
None of my business?  He’s my brother.  “What has Abel been doing?”
“Listen Jonathon, tomorrow morning you had better be at FJC practice or I’ll-“
“No!”  I yelled out.  “No.  Forget it.  I hate it, I hate you, and I’m through doing what you tell me to.”
He angrily slammed his jug down again, this time so hard it shattered.  Alcohol flew everywhere, soaking him in the process.  “Get out of here!” he said.  “I’m through with you Jonathon.  You can fend for yourself from now on.”
We just stood and stared at each other, hate was in both of our eyes.  I turned around and then ran out, slamming the door behind me.  I ran into the yard.  I kicked angrily at some of the bushes.  I stomped on a few of the potted plants.  They just rebounded, not seeming to be effected by my foot.  I stomped down one of them harder.  Every time I removed my foot it just sprung right back up.  Finally I uprooted it and threw it angrily into the darkness.  I hopped onto my bike and sped away.