Seed Of Acceptance

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Brunette

The march is in full swing with Charles Parker in the middle, surrounded by a crowd of overjoyed people. Some just walking, some dancing to the jolly music that comes blasting from several mobile boom-boxes, some chanting along. While it’s not his type of music, he sees how the pulsating beats and the merry tunes create an atmosphere of overall joy free of all trouble and care; an atmosphere of liberation and freedom.He keeps looking at the rainbow flags as a big grin creeps over his face and he feels his heart getting overwhelmed by a happiness he has not perceived since the birth of his son who is now, nineteen years later, walking alongside his father, beaming with glee.Charles proudly throws his son a glance which gets returned with an approving nod. He holds his fingers in front of his face to take a look at the dot of his wife’s plum nail polish on his pinky. For a healthy spirit on the big day, she always says when she does this for all of his speeches. It’s only this morning that his son explained to him that the color comes from a greater picture, a symbolism beyond a simple, loving gesture from his wife.As he keeps on going with the flow, his mind wanders back to a few days prior to the march when fundamentally different convictions were still making his world bleak without him realizing his narrow-mindedness was only tainting his own happiness. *** “Will you just look at this,” Charles, tapping the newspaper in disbelief, complained to his wife Carla as they were nearing the end of their Sunday breakfast. “Pride march. Another riot? Just what this country needs! What’s up next on this immoral godforsaken libtard agenda? Total anarchy?”“Why does it bother you so much, honey?” Carla replied. “No one forces you to go.”Charles muttered something unintelligible under his breath. This month, the press seemed filled with just that pride filth: homosexuals, gay people, dirty, filthy, fag—“Look, Dad,” intervened his son William smearing a spoonful of jam on his bread. “They didn’t do you anything, did they? Why are you so worked up about them? Are you scared or anything?”“Me? Scared? Pha! What they did?” came Charles’ irritated, cornered answer. “They asked me to give a speech and say something nice about these godless heretics. As long as I am the mayor, I will not have any of this blasphemous isvecbahis pride thing in my town. End of story.”Carla began clearing the table to avoid the discussion which she obviously feared was bound to end up in a full-blown fight.“Good point, Dad, well-thought-through, really deep,” William provoked. “You know, it’s not like they’re gonna do anything. It’s just a gathering of people happy to live, show and stand by their sexuality openly without having to be afraid of getting spat on by bigots like you, Dad.”Charles snapped at the direct accusation, “And now what? Are you gonna tell me you will march with them too? Fine! Go there! March along! Or what is it? Are you gonna tell me you just decided to become gay?”“As a matter of fact, yes, Dad,” William retorted, earning himself a both hostile and inquisitive glance. “Yes, I will march.” He paused, hardly able to keep his nervously trembling jaw from making his teeth chatter. “And yes, I am gay. There! You happy now?”“You are what?” yelled Charles in response, not believing what he had just heard. He slammed the newspaper on the table.The pause that followed was filled by the awkward clattering of dishes in the kitchen. The tension was thick and palpable.“Dad,” William began, with a clinical coldness. “It’s not something I spontaneously decided to become. Had I been able to decide, I would have chosen to be bisexual. Twice the fun, you know.”“Get out of this house,” Charles drearily ordered.William crossed his arms and coldly looked into his father’s eyes. “No, Dad. I’m certainly not gonna go anywhere. You can’t treat your son like that.”“Get out, I said!” Charles insisted, his voice louder this time as he picked up his still half-full coffee mug threateningly. How could his treacherous son’s emerald eyes still be so vibrant, so serene, after stabbing his own father in the back?William let a frustrated breath through his nose and stood up.“You got serious issues, Dad,” he said as he gently pushed the chair back to the table. “What does it do to you? I’m gay, so what? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m your son and that I respect and love you, Dad. And you will meet my boyfriend who’s pegging my ass and jizzing his cum in it on a regular basis whether you like it or not. And don’t tell me you haven’t tried to talk Mom into anal. There’s isveçbahis giriş absolutely no difference.”Judging from the expression of fuming rage in his father’s eyes, William saw it fit to leave the dining room. Barely able to suppress his own anger, he managed to close the door in an orderly manner before he heard Charles scream, “I have no son!” accompanied by the sound of a mug crashing and breaking against the very same door. *** The cheers are deafening as Charles slowly steps up to the stage. He halts with every step to drink in the vivacious atmosphere. He can’t believe the audience is cheering for him despite his reputation with the community. Nervously, he looks around, hesitant to keep stepping forward.In a try to soothe his nervousness, he unbuttons the wristbands of his mustard shirt to roll them up. No need to be overdressed for the big speech, he reminds himself. It’s a casual event, yet of utmost importance. He’s always liked this shirt, has always felt the color would fill him with energy. Also, he was one of the few people who could actually wear it without looking ridiculous.His son William, beaming with pride is leaning over the handrail of the short set of stairs. “Go, Dad. You can do this,” he encourages his father, barely managing to predominate the noise level “Mom, Thomas and I are so proud of you.”Charles stops, looks at his son. His eyes wander to the pair of hands with entwined fingers belonging to William and his boyfriend of two years—the lad Charles has only met a few days ago. The smile that fills the father’s face is genuine; a smile of joy over his son’s happiness. Until just those few days ago he was, he reminds himself, regarding not using one’s seed to be fruitful and multiply as a cardinal sin against divine creation but that part of him was left behind to gather dust with all his other overaged beliefs. *** As Carla came back to the dining room to see about her hubby, she found him with his head hanging low, face buried in his hands. She thought she’d heard him sniffle as she stepped closer. The moment she gently placed her hand on his shoulder, he winced and looked at her through stern eyes.“Honey, I don’t know what to say,” she said, tears in her eyes.“How can he do this to me?” Charles hissed, voice trembling. “Where did I go wrong? After isveçbahis yeni giriş all we’ve done for him!” He looked at his wife. “You were too soft with him, Carla. How often did I tell you not to spoil the boy like that? Now, look where it’s gotten us. I should have known. I should have fucking known!”Tears rolled down Carla’s face as she heard the accusation. “Charles, I… I—“ she tried, struggling for words.“The fuck are you looking for excuses, woman? You knew, didn’t you? Lying bitch!”Despite how hurtful his words were, Carla heard an undertone of fear in his voice, the defensive fear of being cornered. She could tell the anger was just a mask hiding a dark secret; a mask so worn-out that he had long forgotten he’d put it on and was since long convinced it naturally belonged to his persona.“Honey, please,” she began, waiting until his erratic gaze zeroed on her eyes but his lips remained silent. “I know you don’t want to hear this,” she continued, voice heavy with tears, “but he’s our son and he’ll always be, no matter what. He’s still the same person you raised and loved and he loves you too and you know that.”Charles pressed his lips together. His wife had always had this subtle way of making him take a step back and reflect on what has happened, and most importantly, about himself.“I used to know a man who was joyful, full of life and open-minded. I fell in love with this man. I still love you, Charles, like the first day but you’ve become bitter and cranky lately. Since you started your political career, actually. I know you don’t want to hear this but if you make me choose between you and our son, I’ll side with William because I’m proud of him and you should be too.”For the first time in years, Charles felt hurt in his most intimate feelings. Not because he’d been attacked but because it appealed to emotions he had long forgotten, long ago buried under a thick layer of fake bigotry until he believed in it himself, long hidden behind a mask of effervescent obnoxious self-confidence.“Talk to him, Charles. Please tell him and show him that you will always love him,” Carla resumed after letting her words sink in. “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow but please talk to him. And if you can’t get yourself to talk to him, please do it for me.”She hugged her husband as tightly as his sitting position in his chair allowed. It felt awkward, yet the tension slowly faded and through the intimacy, a glimmer of his true self tried to break free from its tight, conservative mask through a minute, newly formed crack.

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