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Les Paroles du JC Torrecilla
2003-04-16 07:01:24 (UTC)

A New Beginning

here's a look at the new book ;)

“The Father Who Was Never There”


As a child, I would lie in a large patch of crab
grass, just behind his house, and gaze up at the sky. I’d
look up and see a vast cover of blackness sparkled with
gaseous silver. Lying there in complete awe, hoping that
one day he could reach out and grab a piece of this
majestic glory. Gazing. Engulfed in amazement... wooed by
all that sheer perfection. Stillness in the dark,
everything seemed so right. Selfish as it may seem; I
wanted nothing more than to have all those stars fall out
of the sky so that I could collect them in one giant sweep,
keeping them for myself.
These days, the stars seem so plain, so alike, so
unchanged, and the patch of crabgrass was now a parking
lot. Our house is now part of the new commercial center.
Life is just so busy now. The hustle and the bustle of the
city, the active days with their herds of the men and women
who rush off to their offices, the cars, trucks, cabs, and
buses that jam the streets. Mid day traffic once again.
Yeah, life in Andernoski Heights was pretty lively, and the
people, like those all over the country, loud and brash,
polite and always right. We now live on the completely
other side of town, near the Newport development.
The Newport development, where all those who
were “privileged” lived. Where dreams come true, and
people are happy. Privileged maybe, but happy, I'm not so
sure. Just two weeks ago, Jeremy Jenkins, the youngest of
the Jenkins’ boys, decided it would be wise to loaded on
Jose Cuervo and take his daddies new Porsche out for a
little spin. Needless to say, the car ended up in a ditch
after he tried to “outsmart” the police officer chasing
him. And as for Jeremy, if jail wasn’t enough, his dad,
Gregory Jenkins, wailed on him so badly, he ended up with a
broken femur. For Jeremy is was a small price to pay for a
good time. His father denied all allegations of child
abuse, and like every male with his status, gathered the
best lawyer’s money could buy and the charges were
dropped. The incident with Jeremy was not the first crisis
that hit the Jenkins family. In fact it was a small link
in their chain of family scandals. The first was back in
1996 when Gregory Jenkins was caught having an affair with
one of the legal secretaries in his law firm. Jeremy, his
two older brothers Stephen and Trent, all knew about their
father’s affair, even before their mother, Kathleen did.
When Kathleen did found out about her husband’s adultery,
she never confronted him and his mistress. She couldn‘t.
Who would take care of her financially? A divorce was out
of the question. All of Andernoski Heights is up-to-date
on the Jenkins’ activity. True the Jenkins’ had their
disgraces, but at least they were a family.
I never knew what a family was. My mother would
always describe my father to be a horrible man who we are
better without. I don't remember him so well, he left when
I was six years old, and I didn't realize it then, but he
took a lot of baggage with him. His name was Joe Phoenix,
and they saw I look like him. I wouldn’t know. I do
remember him being tall, at least 6’5”, thin black hair,
and a broad face. That’s all. I can’t remember his eyes,
his lips, or any other details that make a person who they
are. All I knew was what my mother said he was.
Even though I never knew the guy, and as much as my
mother would banter him, I felt somewhere deep down that he
must have been something good at sometime in their
marriage. There had to be a time when my mother loved him,
and he loved her. Perhaps for a few years, early in their
marriage, before the bickering and the fighting, was there
a time when my parents couldn’t live without each other,
and when they were apart, they would long to be together.
Maybe, before I was born, this broken home was a pretty
decent place.
I wonder what it would be like if he were still
around. I guess I never fully understood what he was
like. How could I when all I knew was a angry voice with
two volumes; loud and louder. And even though i cannot
recall any time when he showed me compassion, I felt there
had to be more to this stranger who everyone else put
down. I kind felt pity for him. I mean here is my mother
tearing the guy I only knew as Joe apart, and he’s not
there to defend himself. Joe. The man left me with no
other name to call him. I never knew him
as “Dad”, “Daddy”, or any other loving label children give
a father. I wonder where he is now?


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