An Ewok's Smile

The stall-owner looked at me the same way a cat does a vacuum cleaner – equal parts fascination and hatred. My offer for the mint-on-card Chewbacca figure was clearly derisory. The stormtrooper next to me made an audible tut, his helmet rattling as he did. At Star Wars Celebration Europe 2016, people took their cosplay and collecting seriously.

My phone’s ring broke the awkwardness. The caller ID said Mother;

I’d distinctly told her not to call. A 35-year-old chatting to his Mom at a sci-fi convention was clichéd.

I answered—the sound of sobs; then four words.

“Your Dad’s hung himself!”

In a singularity, my childhood and adulthood exploded and imploded.

Next is only words and pictures, little made sense.

“…a belt over the door,” as Darth Vader marched by.

“…couldn’t lift him,” two Boba Fetts chatting.

“…an ambulance,” five R2-D2s pootled past.

“…he’s trapped.” I tried to picture what my Mom was seeing, what she held in her hands. But all I could conjure was the memory of our dog caught in a deer snare; his howling nothing compared to my Mom’s. My Dad had managed to release him, and now it seemed he had released himself.

“May the force be with you,” said a smiling Ewok – a cute kid.

“And with you,” I said with tears in my eyes.

It has taken seven years to write this story, but that’s how it happened.

In life, I guess, we are all just animals in traps, scared to be released.