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I bought Justin a new SUV to drive to school—I thought it was the least I could do—and a few day before he was to leave home he backed the Jeep up the drive to make it easier to load. The afternoon before he left home, two of Justin’s old friends who use to drive to high school with, Tyler and Jeremy, stopped over to say goodbye. They hadn’t seen him for a while and were shocked at how much weight he had gained and how soft he looked.
I didn’t like it that these boys were here, and my fear proved correct as I watch what happened. I didn’t know how to stop it and not make a scene. He took these two boys out to our backyard, beyond the basketball court and even beyond the tennis court. Justin took them to a small stone bench seating area far away from the house to talk to his friends. I stood in a darkened room upstairs and watched them talk for more than two hours. Suddenly, at something Justin said, the boys reacted. Tyler swiftly sprung to his feet and, scooping Justin up into his arms, held my son tight. Jeremy stayed sitting on the stone bench, and burying his face into his hands, begin to wail—I could hear him all the way up to the house. Justin keep looking nervously back at the house as he got Tyler and Jeremy settled down. As his friends sat on the bench, my son then knelt down on one knee before them and, taking his hand in theirs, talked to them for a long time. Finally the boys nodded, stood, and embraced Justin. My son walked in the middle of Tyler and Jeremy and draped his arms around their shoulders as if he was guarding them. Avoiding the house, Justin escorted his friends to Tyler’s car and slowly waved as the two boys drove away. The next morning after breakfast, Justin finished packing his car, and stood by the open driver’s door for a moment. Because of all the weight he had gained he looked older than his 18 years. He finally stepped over to his mother gave her a slight, and, with what I thought, was a unaffectionate hug, said goodbye. Then, slowly spinning around, he faced me. Justin shifting his weight to his left foot, and twisted his right shoulder until he completely blocked my wife’s view of my face; all she could see was Justin’s back. I thought my son was going to hug me too, but instead he grabbed my upper arms with his hands—I was surprised how strong he still was—and leaned towards me until his lips were inches from my ear. “I know what you did to me, you son of bitch,” Justin whispered. I pushed him back slightly and tried to break his grip. His jaw line tightened to squareness and his blue eyes went cobalt. I looked into his tense face, and could tell he was trying to summon anger, but his eyes flicked only with intense dislike for me.
He released me, turned, took two effortless steps, and slid into the drive’s seat of his car. He moved with the same grace that I remembered when I would spy on him playing basketball. My mind traveled back to a fall afternoon 18-months ago. It was twilight and I had watched my son play basketball as the sun set behind the mountains. I had a flashback of Justin’s powerful thighs showing underneath his white shorts, and how I caught a glimmer of his smooth, muscular abdomen underneath his shirt when he leaped for a rebound. Sweat poured down his neck and the evening sun turned his skin gold. But that Justin didn’t exist any longer. He drove down the driveway and slowed to make the sharp right turn to street. The SUV disappeared into traffic, and at that moment I realized that I would never see my son again. But I also knew that what I did to Justin was for his own good. I still firmly believe that. A few weeks after Justin left for the seminary, my friend Andy called for advice. It seems his 18 year old son Kyle, a good looking, broad shouldered boy, who was a year younger than Justin and had graduated from high school just last month, had decided that he wasn’t going to the University like Andy, and myself, and everyone of our church. The boy had just announced that he had decided to follow his girlfriend, who isn’t of our faith, to San Francisco for college. Andy and his wife were beside themselves with grief; he also told me that they had proof that Kyle was having sexual relations with this girl. “I notice what a change there was with your Justin in the last year,” said Andy. “Your son was always polite, but he become even more soft spoken under you tutelage. And you convinced him to pursue a life in the church, which shocked Kyle, as well as all of Justin’s old friends,” continued Andy. “How did you handle Justin? Can you tell us what do to with our Kyle? He seems to have lost his way and we don’t know what to do,” pleaded Andy. I told Andy that my wife and I knew exactly how to put Kyle on the right path. That night Andy and his wife came over, and we talked to them until dawn. Two weeks later Andy called to bring me up-to-date. Interestingly, just like our Justin, young Kyle was now vomiting after each meal, and was always feeling ill. Like any good father, Andy had made an appointment for Kyle to see a specialist. In fact, he was taking his son to see Dr. Dunn that weekend. THE END
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