Original Dialogue:
“Hello Theron,” his father said
calmly.
“Father,” Theron responded firmly.
“What brings my estranged son back
home? If I recall, your last words
were something along the lines of… ‘Fuck you’ and ‘I hope you drink yourself to
death’.”
“My words may have been rash at the
time but I don’t live with regrets.”
His father chuckled and took
another puff. His smile always had
a tinge of malice, the stained yellow teeth sometimes looked like fangs from
the corner of the eye. Theron took
a step up, the wood creaking under his heavy, worn boot.
“Ah, ah, ah. Watch yourself,” his father warned.
“You can’t keep me from her
forever,” Theron replied.
“You left, son. You took off without telling me where
you were going, you-”
“Oh come off it. Acting like you cared about me. You barely cared about mother.”
“I loved that woman.”
“Yeah with a fist and a of slew
swear words.”
His father sighed, put his cigar to
rest in an ashtray and walked towards the steps. Theron stiffened; the pistol in the back of his pants
reminded him it was there, the barrel pressing into the small of his back. His father slowly took a step down, one
board between them.
“What do you want, Theron?”
“To see her, to take her.”
“That ain’t gonna happen, son. She belongs here.”
Theron took the last step, their
faces now a few inches apart. He
could smell the tobacco and mist of whiskey on his father’s lips. Not much had changed.
“What if I earn it?” Theron
proposed.
“Yeah, how so?” his father asked.
“I’ll work for you, one last
time. A year of services. I get ma, what’s mine of the will, and
the truck.”
“You want ol’ Bessie? Fine. But the rest, you’ll have to do some dirty work, kid. You won’t like it and sure was hell
will consider ditchin’. How do I
know it will be worth my while?”
Theron sighed, already regretting
what he was about to say.
“If I don’t make it through a year,
I stay indefinitely. Until I’m
dismissed. Or dead.”
His father’s eyebrows raised, the
tips of his lips twisted into that ugly smile Theron hated. But it didn’t matter, he bought into it
and his father was itching to exercise some control and revenge on his son. No one gets away with what Theron did;
no one usually survives that attempt.
“Done,” his father said.
Edit #1:
“Hello Theron,” his father said
calmly.
“Father,” Theron responded firmly.
“What brings you back? If I ‘member right, your last words
were somethin’ along the lines of… ‘Fuck you’ and ‘I hope you drink yourself to
death’.”
“Something like that.”
“Ah, ah, ah.
Watch yourself.”
“You can’t keep me from her
forever.”
“You left. Took off without telling me where you
were going, you-”
“Ah, come off it. Actin’ like you cared about me. You barely cared about her.”
“I loved that woman.”
“Yeah, with a fist and a ‘YOU
BITCH’.”
“Better watch that tone, boy.”
“Okay, fine.”
“No apology?”
“Don’t start.”
“What do you want?”
“To see her, to take her.”
“That ain’t gonna happen, son. She belongs here.”
“What if I earn it?”
“Yeah, how so?”
“I’ll work for you, one last
time. A year of services. I get ma, what’s mine of the will, and
the truck.”
“Uh-huh… No.”
“C’mon!”
“You had your chance to be apart of
it. But you left.”
“Well I’m here now.”
“You want ol’ Bessie? Fine. But the rest, you’ll have to do some dirty work, son. You won’t like it and sure as hell will
consider ditchin’. How do I know
it will be worth my while?”
“If I don’t make it through a year, I stay indefinitely. Until I’m dismissed. Or dead.”
“Done.”
Edit #2:
“Hello Theron,” his father said
calmly.
“Father,” Theron responded firmly.
“What brings my estranged son back
home? If I recall, your last words
were something along the lines of… ‘Fuck you’ and ‘I hope you drink yourself to
death’.”
“Yeah, still mean ‘em.”
His father chuckled and took
another puff of his cigar. His
smile always had a tinge of malice, the stained yellow teeth sometimes looked
like fangs from the corner of the eye.
Theron took a step up, the wood creaking under his heavy, worn boot.
“Ah, ah, ah. Watch yourself,” his father warned.
“You can’t keep me from here
forever,” Theron replied.
“You left, son. You took off without telling me where
you were going, you-”
“Oh come off it. Actin’ like you cared ‘bout me. You barely cared at all.”
“I loved you.”
“Scars say otherwise.”
His father sighed, put his cigar to
rest in an ashtray and walked towards the steps. Theron stiffened; the pistol in the back of his pants
reminded him it was there, the barrel pressing into the small of his back. His father slowly took a step down, one
board between them.
“What do you want, Theron?”
“To see her, take her with me.”
“That ain’t gonna happen, son. She belongs here.”
Theron took the last step, their
faces now a few inches apart. He
could smell the tobacco and mist of whiskey on his father’s lips. Not much had changed.
“What if I earn it?” Theron
proposed.
“How would you do it this time
‘round?” his father asked.
“I’ll work for you. A year of services. I get her, the will, and the truck.”
“You want Bessie?”
“Course I do. About that time to pass it on.”
His looked Theron up and down and said, “Fine. How do I know
you won’t consider ditchin’, that it will be worth my while?”
Theron sighed, already regretting
what he was about to say.
“If I don’t make it through a year,
I stay indefinitely. Until you
send me on my way. Or I end up in
a ditch. You tend to like those.”
“Great hiding spots, you know just
as well as I.”
“So what’ll it be, deal or no?”
His father leaned in close enough
that their eyelashes almost touched and he said gently, “Deal.”
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