Post by logansky on Jun 3, 2024 3:49:39 GMT
“Curtis Matthew Rivers, I don’t think I have ever been so disappointed in you! I can’t believe you would look me in the eye and tell me so many bald-faced lies!”
Kurt shifted in his chair at his mother’s reproachment, his eyes downcast.
“I didn’t lie, Momma…”
“Oh don’t give me that! You didn’t tell me the whole truth! You know better than that. You are grounded, mister. You can certainly kiss summer camp goodbye too. I can’t believe you would do something like that to me.”
Kurt shifted again, risking the opportunity to glance upwards. He’d never seen his mom so mad before. He shifted his gaze over to look at his dad, checking for any sign of support, but his face was a blank mask.
“OK Momma, I understand.”
“You had better. I am going to be restricting your phone and your computer. Now you go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Kurt pushes himself off the chair but then he stops himself before going to his room.
“But why is it bad to want to know about grandpa?”
“Because he is no kind of influence to have on your life, Curtis. You are old enough to remember Nana’s funeral.”
“But why?”
“It’s grownup things Curtis. You wouldn’t understand.”
“But how can I understand if you won’t talk about him? It’s always grown up things.”
“Kurt, that is no way to talk to your mother! Now go to your room.”
“OK Dad…”
He sighed and trudged his way out of the living room and up the stairs. He already heard his mom and dad talking in muffled voices downstairs, but he knew better then hang around and try to listen. At this rate, he’d probably be off punishment sometime around Christmas as it was.
He turned the corner and almost ran over his little sister.
“Suzy!” He kept his voice at a low whisper. “You were supposed to be in your room! You don’t want to get into trouble too, do you?”
“What’s this about grandpa?”
“Look, it’s better if you don’t know.”
The little nine year old screwed up her face in a stubborn expression as she squeezed the large stuffed Hulk she had in her hands. “But I wanna know! I’m a big girl!”
He gave his baby sister a fond smile and ruffled her hair. “Ya, I know you are. But I guess not big enough. I’m sorry Suzzy, I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
She huffed softly. “Fine then.” She moved past him, creeping closer to the stairs, no doubt to try and eavesdrop some more. He shook his head and moved to his room and stepped inside and closed it behind him. He glanced around for a moment before he made his way over to his desk and opened his computer. He was already in trouble. He probably wouldn’t get into any more trouble if he sent out a quick message to his friends to let them know why he was going dark.
~~~~
Tim paced in his study, the ice cubes in his glass making soft noises each time he turned around when he got to the wall.
“I just don’t get it Timmy. Kurt is such a good kid. He’s never done anything like this before.”
“Well he’s getting to that age, Angela. Teenagers act out. It’s just what they do.”
“He actually talked back to me! He doesn’t do that.”
“They push their boundaries. It just means he trusts you.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. But thanks again for telling me. And thank you for taking him to your job. I figure some honest work will help straighten him out.”
“Of course. I’ll have some small things he can do. Cleaning up on job sites, sweeping. Things like that.”
“Thanks a lot Timmy. I’ll let you go.”
Tim disconnected the call and slumped down into his desk chair with a heavy sigh. He lifted the glass and took a drink, savoring the smooth flavor of the scotch in his glass. He wasn’t so sure if telling his sister about what Kurt had told him was such a good idea.
He figured it was perfectly natural for a kid to wonder about their grandparents. Especially when it was such a big secret. Plus he was in Junior High now. Boys that age get into the sort of thing that their dad does. It was only a matter of time before he found out. But it doesn't matter. What’s done is done.
He took another drink from his glass as he brooded on the thought. He’d get Kurt during the day and set him to work sorting equipment and sweeping around the job sites that he visited. Nothing terribly dangerous, but it would give him some work ethic. And he’d drop some money into a savings account for the boy. No one worked his job site for free. Even kids on punishment. He’d do what he could to make up for getting him in trouble.
Tim leaned back in his chair, gazing at his computer as he lifted his glass to his lips to take another drink, his mind drifting back to think about what Kurt had told him about what he had found out about his grandpa. Then, with a sigh he pulled his keyboard towards him and opened up a web page. A few keystrokes later led him to a youtube video. The thumbnail was his dad, he knew that. He remembered the face paint from the handful of times he went to watch his father compete. He looked much older than the last time he’d seen him. Tired too. Of course that’s what addiction did to you, didn’t it? He frowned slightly and leaned forward. There was something else though. Something different. Something about his eyes.
He let out a sigh and moved his mouse and clicked on the video while he took another healthy drink from his glass of scotch. The video opened up with his father standing in the gym, putting a belt around his waist…
~_~
Logan is in a gym, strapping a weight belt around his waist. He walks up onto a mat and steps up towards a barbell resting on the floor.
“So here I am, Night two of Night of the Immortals. I punched my ticket to advance in the tournament to crown a number one contender to the World Television title, and a shot to slap the taste out of the mouth of a man who keeps calling me a Numpty. What could be better?"
“But once again I am facing RAM. Someone I want to respect. Someone who has promise. But he’s got his head stuck so far up his ass hat he can’t see anything past his fucking colon. You go on and on about nepotism, accusing anyone and everyone of being guilty for it. Ya even had the fucking gall to accuse me. Someone who has spent over 30 years scratching and clawing for every single opportunity that I’ve had. I didn’t have some famous trainer take me under their wing and give me a job. I’ve spent years in bingo halls and VFW’s performing strictly for the friends and family of the people in the ring. Something you wouldn’t have the first idea of. And I loved every minute of it. All that work made me who I am.”
He shakes his head slowly as he claps his hands together. He reaches down, grabbing the weight and lifting it off the ground before settling into a set of Deadlifts. His breath huffs out of his chest with each straightening of his body. Once he hits 12 reps he lets the weight drop to bounce off the floor.
“So blinded by the fact that you have benefited from the Nepotism that you claim to hate. That your whole career benefited from the fact that James Gilmore and Fionna McFly took a chance on you, continue to take chances on you. Maybe it’s a self hatred thing, I don’t know. But the hypocrisy stinks to high heaven son. It’s just another reason why no one takes you seriously.”
He reaches down, grabbing the weights and lifting them off the ground to start into another set, his gaze intense as he stares at himself in the mirrors that cover the gym walls. When he finishes his set he drops the weights to the floor at his feet.
“It’s the same thing as this dumb, high school bullshit you are talking about with jocks recently. Like completely oblivious to the fact that you are one. What the hell do you think we do kid? On top of that, you are a grown ass man, son. No one cares about that anymore. Except for people who live in the past, incapable of moving on. And trust me when I say that if you don’t move on you are just going to fall into irrelevance, sitting at a bar railing against things that happened years and years ago.”
He reaches down, grabbing the weights up for another set up reps, pushing out air through his nose as he straightens and lowers through the motions of the deadlifts. His arms shake with the weight towards the end, and on the last few reps he clearly struggles to lift the weights before he finally finishes and drops them to the ground as he pants for breath.
“This is not a business of what’s gone on before. You gotta keep your head in the moment. You can never rest on your ass. That’s not something you’ve learned yet son. You keep going back to what you’ve done before. You retired James Gilmore. Good for you. That happened damn close to a year ago and you ain’t done much of anything since then. So here’s your chance, son. You got a chance to do something big. But if you can’t put your head on straight then you aren’t gonna be able to grab that brass ring that they talk about. You gotta have drive and focus kid. Something you that you lack. You are so hung up on what other people are doing when you need to look in the mirror. You gotta sort your shit out. Because if you don’t then you aren’t getting anywhere.
I have the focus and I damn sure have the drive. I’m fighting to make something of myself. I’ve made a laundry list of mistakes. I’ve burned damn near every bridge that mattered to me. This is all I have left. This and the hope, the dream. The damn near impossible goal that I might be able to repair those bridges that I burned to the ground. See I know what being bitter gets you son. It leads you down a dark path. Somewhere that you can’t escape from unless you get help to do so. I blamed everyone for my problems too and it lost me friends and family. Trust me when I say that is not something you want, son. Now I would give and do anything to get that back. So here I am, busting my ass day in and day out to prove that I’m not the man I was. That I have made something from myself. Hoping and praying that maybe someway, somehow even just one of them will hear me. Will see what I am doing. That I can instill some hope in them that I have become a better man. That I can be a better father. That’s what’s driving me RAM.”
He shakes his head, pulling at the weight belt to toss it on the floor. He steps towards the camera, staring into it with intense eyes.
“Do you think you have that drive RAM? Are you gonna pull your head out of your ass and look around you. Are you going to heal from your past hurts, to work on bettering yourself. To use that chip on your shoulder to drive forward? Or are you gonna let it crush you down and turn you into a bitter wreck? I guess we’ll see, won’t we. But you best come correct, son. I have something to make of myself and I will plow through anyone in my way.”
He turns around and walks away from the camera. He staggers slightly, leaning out to brace himself with one hand on the wall as he lifts a hand to wipe at his face as the scene ends.
Kurt shifted in his chair at his mother’s reproachment, his eyes downcast.
“I didn’t lie, Momma…”
“Oh don’t give me that! You didn’t tell me the whole truth! You know better than that. You are grounded, mister. You can certainly kiss summer camp goodbye too. I can’t believe you would do something like that to me.”
Kurt shifted again, risking the opportunity to glance upwards. He’d never seen his mom so mad before. He shifted his gaze over to look at his dad, checking for any sign of support, but his face was a blank mask.
“OK Momma, I understand.”
“You had better. I am going to be restricting your phone and your computer. Now you go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Kurt pushes himself off the chair but then he stops himself before going to his room.
“But why is it bad to want to know about grandpa?”
“Because he is no kind of influence to have on your life, Curtis. You are old enough to remember Nana’s funeral.”
“But why?”
“It’s grownup things Curtis. You wouldn’t understand.”
“But how can I understand if you won’t talk about him? It’s always grown up things.”
“Kurt, that is no way to talk to your mother! Now go to your room.”
“OK Dad…”
He sighed and trudged his way out of the living room and up the stairs. He already heard his mom and dad talking in muffled voices downstairs, but he knew better then hang around and try to listen. At this rate, he’d probably be off punishment sometime around Christmas as it was.
He turned the corner and almost ran over his little sister.
“Suzy!” He kept his voice at a low whisper. “You were supposed to be in your room! You don’t want to get into trouble too, do you?”
“What’s this about grandpa?”
“Look, it’s better if you don’t know.”
The little nine year old screwed up her face in a stubborn expression as she squeezed the large stuffed Hulk she had in her hands. “But I wanna know! I’m a big girl!”
He gave his baby sister a fond smile and ruffled her hair. “Ya, I know you are. But I guess not big enough. I’m sorry Suzzy, I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
She huffed softly. “Fine then.” She moved past him, creeping closer to the stairs, no doubt to try and eavesdrop some more. He shook his head and moved to his room and stepped inside and closed it behind him. He glanced around for a moment before he made his way over to his desk and opened his computer. He was already in trouble. He probably wouldn’t get into any more trouble if he sent out a quick message to his friends to let them know why he was going dark.
~~~~
Tim paced in his study, the ice cubes in his glass making soft noises each time he turned around when he got to the wall.
“I just don’t get it Timmy. Kurt is such a good kid. He’s never done anything like this before.”
“Well he’s getting to that age, Angela. Teenagers act out. It’s just what they do.”
“He actually talked back to me! He doesn’t do that.”
“They push their boundaries. It just means he trusts you.”
“It doesn’t feel like it. But thanks again for telling me. And thank you for taking him to your job. I figure some honest work will help straighten him out.”
“Of course. I’ll have some small things he can do. Cleaning up on job sites, sweeping. Things like that.”
“Thanks a lot Timmy. I’ll let you go.”
Tim disconnected the call and slumped down into his desk chair with a heavy sigh. He lifted the glass and took a drink, savoring the smooth flavor of the scotch in his glass. He wasn’t so sure if telling his sister about what Kurt had told him was such a good idea.
He figured it was perfectly natural for a kid to wonder about their grandparents. Especially when it was such a big secret. Plus he was in Junior High now. Boys that age get into the sort of thing that their dad does. It was only a matter of time before he found out. But it doesn't matter. What’s done is done.
He took another drink from his glass as he brooded on the thought. He’d get Kurt during the day and set him to work sorting equipment and sweeping around the job sites that he visited. Nothing terribly dangerous, but it would give him some work ethic. And he’d drop some money into a savings account for the boy. No one worked his job site for free. Even kids on punishment. He’d do what he could to make up for getting him in trouble.
Tim leaned back in his chair, gazing at his computer as he lifted his glass to his lips to take another drink, his mind drifting back to think about what Kurt had told him about what he had found out about his grandpa. Then, with a sigh he pulled his keyboard towards him and opened up a web page. A few keystrokes later led him to a youtube video. The thumbnail was his dad, he knew that. He remembered the face paint from the handful of times he went to watch his father compete. He looked much older than the last time he’d seen him. Tired too. Of course that’s what addiction did to you, didn’t it? He frowned slightly and leaned forward. There was something else though. Something different. Something about his eyes.
He let out a sigh and moved his mouse and clicked on the video while he took another healthy drink from his glass of scotch. The video opened up with his father standing in the gym, putting a belt around his waist…
~_~
Logan is in a gym, strapping a weight belt around his waist. He walks up onto a mat and steps up towards a barbell resting on the floor.
“So here I am, Night two of Night of the Immortals. I punched my ticket to advance in the tournament to crown a number one contender to the World Television title, and a shot to slap the taste out of the mouth of a man who keeps calling me a Numpty. What could be better?"
“But once again I am facing RAM. Someone I want to respect. Someone who has promise. But he’s got his head stuck so far up his ass hat he can’t see anything past his fucking colon. You go on and on about nepotism, accusing anyone and everyone of being guilty for it. Ya even had the fucking gall to accuse me. Someone who has spent over 30 years scratching and clawing for every single opportunity that I’ve had. I didn’t have some famous trainer take me under their wing and give me a job. I’ve spent years in bingo halls and VFW’s performing strictly for the friends and family of the people in the ring. Something you wouldn’t have the first idea of. And I loved every minute of it. All that work made me who I am.”
He shakes his head slowly as he claps his hands together. He reaches down, grabbing the weight and lifting it off the ground before settling into a set of Deadlifts. His breath huffs out of his chest with each straightening of his body. Once he hits 12 reps he lets the weight drop to bounce off the floor.
“So blinded by the fact that you have benefited from the Nepotism that you claim to hate. That your whole career benefited from the fact that James Gilmore and Fionna McFly took a chance on you, continue to take chances on you. Maybe it’s a self hatred thing, I don’t know. But the hypocrisy stinks to high heaven son. It’s just another reason why no one takes you seriously.”
He reaches down, grabbing the weights and lifting them off the ground to start into another set, his gaze intense as he stares at himself in the mirrors that cover the gym walls. When he finishes his set he drops the weights to the floor at his feet.
“It’s the same thing as this dumb, high school bullshit you are talking about with jocks recently. Like completely oblivious to the fact that you are one. What the hell do you think we do kid? On top of that, you are a grown ass man, son. No one cares about that anymore. Except for people who live in the past, incapable of moving on. And trust me when I say that if you don’t move on you are just going to fall into irrelevance, sitting at a bar railing against things that happened years and years ago.”
He reaches down, grabbing the weights up for another set up reps, pushing out air through his nose as he straightens and lowers through the motions of the deadlifts. His arms shake with the weight towards the end, and on the last few reps he clearly struggles to lift the weights before he finally finishes and drops them to the ground as he pants for breath.
“This is not a business of what’s gone on before. You gotta keep your head in the moment. You can never rest on your ass. That’s not something you’ve learned yet son. You keep going back to what you’ve done before. You retired James Gilmore. Good for you. That happened damn close to a year ago and you ain’t done much of anything since then. So here’s your chance, son. You got a chance to do something big. But if you can’t put your head on straight then you aren’t gonna be able to grab that brass ring that they talk about. You gotta have drive and focus kid. Something you that you lack. You are so hung up on what other people are doing when you need to look in the mirror. You gotta sort your shit out. Because if you don’t then you aren’t getting anywhere.
I have the focus and I damn sure have the drive. I’m fighting to make something of myself. I’ve made a laundry list of mistakes. I’ve burned damn near every bridge that mattered to me. This is all I have left. This and the hope, the dream. The damn near impossible goal that I might be able to repair those bridges that I burned to the ground. See I know what being bitter gets you son. It leads you down a dark path. Somewhere that you can’t escape from unless you get help to do so. I blamed everyone for my problems too and it lost me friends and family. Trust me when I say that is not something you want, son. Now I would give and do anything to get that back. So here I am, busting my ass day in and day out to prove that I’m not the man I was. That I have made something from myself. Hoping and praying that maybe someway, somehow even just one of them will hear me. Will see what I am doing. That I can instill some hope in them that I have become a better man. That I can be a better father. That’s what’s driving me RAM.”
He shakes his head, pulling at the weight belt to toss it on the floor. He steps towards the camera, staring into it with intense eyes.
“Do you think you have that drive RAM? Are you gonna pull your head out of your ass and look around you. Are you going to heal from your past hurts, to work on bettering yourself. To use that chip on your shoulder to drive forward? Or are you gonna let it crush you down and turn you into a bitter wreck? I guess we’ll see, won’t we. But you best come correct, son. I have something to make of myself and I will plow through anyone in my way.”
He turns around and walks away from the camera. He staggers slightly, leaning out to brace himself with one hand on the wall as he lifts a hand to wipe at his face as the scene ends.
Well howdy there pardner.