Little by little

“Hey dad, can we go to the gift shop now?”

“Why do you want to go to the gift shop so much, bud?”

“I wanna get Mom and Andy a present. Whenever they go to places they bring me back a present.”

Lawrence looked down at Sam’s pleading eyes and then glanced at his watch as Andy’s voice echoed through his brain. ‘Maya told me to tell you she wants him home by 6.’

It was 4:30 now. They should leave by 5 to make sure Sam was home in time. He knew he couldn’t push it.

“How about this,” Lawrence started, “We go see one more thing, and then we go to the gift shop before we leave. Deal?”

Sharks were Sam’s favorite animal, and Lawrence selfishly hoped that by surprising his son by finishing the day at the prehistoric creature’s tank, he would capture his attention long enough to leave no time for the gift shop.

Sam gave a slight look of dejection but nodded his head yes nonetheless. Lawrence wondered if a seven year old was capable of knowing how to humor an adult.

He reached down and grasped the boy’s hand. They filed out of the bleachers and up the steps out of the arena where they had watched dolphins perform tricks in exchange for fish. Lawrence had feigned enthusiasm in an effort to engage his son while internally, pessimism nipped at his brain and he thought of how the dolphins could probably outsmart sixty percent of the adults around him who clapped their hands robotically to the rhythm of the generic music blaring over the cheap speakers and plastered simple smiles across their faces because they were supposed to.

The two filed into the hallway with the rest of the onlookers, and Sam’s limp hand slid from his father’s. Lawrence looked down at the boy, who now stared at the laces atop his sneakers. His mahogany brown hair flowed wistfully down to his shoulders. It was the longest Lawrence had seen it, and nearly twice as long as it had been the last time he had seen his son. He was always caught off guard by how much the boy changed in between their bi-monthly visits.

As they marched with the masses down the hallway leading to the shark tank, Lawrence tapped his son’s shoulder and pointed to a tank on their left where a round yellow fish covered in tiny spikes floated by unbothered by the gawking spectators. Sam followed his father’s finger and nodded, uninterested.

“How about those dolphins?” Lawrence tried. “How do you think they teach them how to do those tricks?”

“I don’t know,” Sam responded.

“Me neither. Pretty cool though, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.”

It occurred to Lawrence that Sam could have moved on from his interest in marine life. It must have been two or three visits prior that he had brought his plastic shark to the diner Lawrence had taken them to for lunch. That’s when the aquarium idea had come to him. But it took a couple of months to convince Maya, via Andy, to let him take their son on a full-afternoon excursion down to Mystic. He suspected Andy had fought for him to make it happen, surprised when he heard Maya had consented. Lawrence tried to be grateful to Andy for that, but he couldn’t help envying him.

That should be him. Not Andy. Him coming home to Maya. Him raising Sam. Him living the picturesque life his ex-wife and her new husband now lived. Instead, Lawrence could only monitor Facebook, the only place for consistent updates on his son’s life. Lying to his own brain by telling himself that Sam still loved him more than Andy. But he couldn’t fool his own brain.

And could he blame his son? Though Lawrence was sure Sam couldn’t remember the night that finally broke Maya and took Sam from him, the simple fact was Andy was around daily, whereas he only showed up every two months. There was a part of him that felt like a chore to Sam sometimes. A piece of a weekend interrupted by an unfamiliar grown-up. He wanted to believe in the existence of a natural bond between father and son, but they had spent the afternoon gazing mostly in silence at fish, his son’s interest visibly dwindling by the minute. Lawrence felt defeated, but he refused to give up.

“Alright bud, close your eyes and I’ll guide you. This last part is a surprise.”

“Do I have to, dad?”

“Please? I think you’ll really love it.”

“Okay.”

Sam slapped his palms over his eyes and Lawrence directed him forwards with both hands on the boy’s shoulders. Sam walked hesitantly in front of his father at first, but as they got close to the shark tank, his pace picked up and Lawrence was no longer guiding his peeking son, but being pulled by him. Sam couldn’t contain his excitement for much longer and broke into a scamper as he lowered his hands. Watching his son run through the crowd, a smile burst onto Lawrence’s face. He stopped walking and watched Sam dart between onlookers in in his green and white horizontal striped shirt and blue jeans until the tears filling his eyes blinded him. He wiped them away with the sleeve of his sweater and looked back up to where Sam had just been. But he wasn’t there.

Lawrence’s heart stopped, his hands grew cool and clammy, his mouth dried, and his feet glued to the floor in terror. He snapped out of it with a shake of his head and marched forward, too embarrassed to run in front of the less neglectful parents around him. He zipped his head back and forth, eyes combing the crowd at waist level where he imagined his son would be. He bumped into a woman walking the other way who gave him a glare as he apologized in haste. He pushed past two older adults, grandparents by the looks of it. He peered over the parents of six little ones, the eldest no older than Sam, but had no time to stop and wonder how. Then he found his son.

Hands pressed to the glass, face inches from the tank, Sam watched, intent on noticing every flinch of the predator’s fins. Lawrence let out a relieved sigh and joined him. Father and son stood silent, watching the great white shark circle the massive tank, magical in its movement, patrolling its domain where it was the sole inhabitant. A beast of a creature, it moved with a fluidity only observed among humans in figure skaters and ballet dancers, but with the power of a semi and the mind of the greatest predator on earth. It was magnificent.

The shark approached the glass near where Lawrence and Sam stood. Lawrence put a hand on his son’s shoulder, which he felt tense with anticipation that turned to awe as the 15-foot brute passed just feet from them, the transparent glass an indistinguishable barrier. Close enough to see its scarred flesh, flaps of skin wavering gently in the cool blue water, along for the ride.

They watched as it passed them, flicked its tailfin, and glided back towards the middle of the tank. Sam looked up at his father with a smile that broke Lawrence. It took everything he had to keep it together.

“Pretty cool, huh bud?” he managed.

“That was AWESOME,” Sam said as he wrapped his arms around Lawrence’s waist. “Thanks, dad.”

Lawrence never wanted to let go. But the happiness given to him by his son rid him of envy, and he suggested they head to the gift shop before leaving. Sam took one last look at the shark and nodded, grasping his father’s hand and leading them back the way they came.

“You know what I bet they have at the gift shop?” Lawrence prodded.

“What?”

“I bet they have some pretty cool toy sharks.”

“Do Mom and Andy like sharks?”

Nothing could hurt Lawrence at the height of this high, and he smiled softly and nodded down at his son’s upward-facing gaze, “I think they’d love something like that.”

When they entered the gift shop, Sam wandered, eyes darting between over-priced and aquarium-themed toys, keychains, and home décor. A small enough shop, Lawrence let his son explore, watching closely this time from just inside the entrance.

“Your son looks happy,” a pleasant young woman behind the cashier’s counter said.

“Yeah, we just came from the shark tank. He loves sharks.”

“That’s a boy for you. How old?”

“Seven.”

“He looks just like you.”

“You think?”

“Oh, absolutely. You can really see it in the eyes,” the cashier said as she came around the front of the counter with a stack of shirts.

Lawrence’s eyes followed her, “Hopefully he got his mother’s brain then.”

The cashier giggled and turned her back to Lawrence to arrange the shirts on a table. When she walked away, Lawrence looked at the shirt and a smile crept across his face. A dark blue shirt with a shark’s silhouette in the middle, the curly pale-yellow letters above read, ‘Always be yourself,’ and below, ‘Unless you can be a shark. Then always be a shark.’

Lawrence grabbed a boy’s medium and checked out while his son gazed intently at the shop’s stuffed animal collection. He tucked the bag the cashier put the shirt in beneath his jacket that he had draped over his arm and approached his son.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked.

“Do you think they’ll like this?” Sam asked, holding a stuffed gray shark whose mouth was agape, displaying its soft fuzzy teeth.

Lawrence smiled. “I think they’ll love it, Sam.”

Sam smiled and they walked to the counter, the cashier admonishing Sam for being so darn cute. Sam carried the bag with the stuffed shark to the car and the two piled in, Sam in the backseat, as per Maya’s rules.

The amount of words exchanged between father and son on the thirty-minute car ride home far exceeded the day’s total up until that point. Sam rambled, first about sharks, then about school, then about soccer, which he had just begun playing. Lawrence listened with an exultant focus.

“Maybe you could come to one of my games.”

“Oh, I’d love that, bud. Next time I come down to visit I will.”

“Could you come next weekend? The games are Saturdays.”

Lawrence stayed silent for a moment too long. Sam capitalized, “Please?”

“How about we ask your mom when we get home and see what she thinks.” It was a cop out, and Lawrence knew it. He didn’t mean to imply to their son it was Maya’s fault he couldn’t see his dad all the time. After all, it wasn’t. But he hadn’t been able to think of anything else in that moment.

“Why?”

A simple question. One that, despite their sparse conversation throughout the afternoon, Lawrence had already heard several times. But this time it transported him. Back to the living room of their apartment. Back to life with the three of them. Back before Andy. Back to the couch where he had sat when he snapped. Back where his shout sent a jolt through Maya and Sam. Back where his beer bottle exploded against the wall in much too close a proximity to his then wife. Back where he put his hands on his own son.

Lawrence felt sick. Sick enough to put his signal on and pull to the breakdown lane of the highway. When the car stopped though, his stomach settled. He put it in park and turned around to face his son.

“Because your dad messed up a long time ago, bud. And he has to show your mom he’s better now.”

Lawrence wondered if Sam sensed the severity in his voice. The boy nodded. “Okay dad. Get better soon though. The season only goes in the fall.” Lawrence smiled at his son’s innocence and signaled to get back on the highway.

When they pulled into the driveway, Lawrence made sure Sam was looking at his seatbelt before he grabbed the t-shirt from the bag. They both got out.

“Sam, I got you something in the gift shop so you can always remember today.”

“You did?”

Lawrence held the rolled-up shirt by the stitching on the shoulders and let it unravel to display the front to Sam. He could see the boy’s brain working steadily through the words. A grin formed then grew to a smile.

“No way! Thanks dad!”

Sam grabbed the shirt from his father and held it against his face. Just then, the front door opened, and Andy stepped onto the stoop.

“Hey Sammy, how was it?”

“It was so cool. We saw sharks and dolphins and dad got me a shirt.” He held it up to Andy proudly.

“Sounds great! Come on in, dinner’s almost ready.”

Sam didn’t respond. And when he brought his eyes back to his father, Lawrence saw something he hadn’t seen from his son in years. Love.

“Hey dad?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“I want you to have this.” Sam extended the stuffed shark to his father, “So you can remember today too.”

Lawrence was frozen. Sam’s small hand held the shark at the base of its tail, an offering the magnitude of which he would never understand. After a brief pause, Lawrence grabbed the shark and then wrapped his arms around his son. He lifted him up and pressed him to his chest. “I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

He wanted to hold him forever. Never set him down. Leave with him. Make it up to him. Even if Sam didn’t know what ‘it’ was. But he did set him down.

“Now go get some dinner. I’ll see you soon.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Lawrence watched as Sam turned and ran down the swerving brick path to the front door, where Andy stood holding it ajar. Once inside, Andy gave a slight wave and allowed the door to swing shut.

Lawrence got in his car and backed out of the driveway, heading west where the setting sun now scraped the bottom of the skyline, infiltrating the tops of the tallest buildings with a certain steadiness. Out of sight of the house, he pulled over to let the tears fall and the sobs escape.