Father's Day

It was his day.

Most people called a birthday their special day, not Harvey. He was unfortunate enough to share a birthday with his son. He therefore was made to relinquish all claims over the second of June, seceding to his only born child. As a consolation prize, he had been awarded Father's Day as the day that he could call his own. Let the celebrations begin. Truthfully, he would prefer to be left alone with his latest book purchase and a cup of tea.

Earlier, he had awoken to the sound of his spouse hawking up her morning phlegm, retching, and coughing into the basin. The bathroom door ajar, he glimpsed the flesh mountain reverberating with each expulsion. Before the lovely Madeline could insist that he received his celebratory hump and positional asphyxia, he donned his slippers. He padded down to the safety of his kitchen, and peace.

His light step turned to lead as he caught sight of his son slouched across the kitchen counter. He appeared to be sleeping, drooling on Harvey's stack of gardening brochures. Propped up on the stool, half-dressed.

"Roland!" he said. No response from the sleeper. "Roland, wake up!" Roland made a smacking noise with his lips and fluttered his eyelids. He slept on. Harvey stepped forward, brought his mouth close to his son's ear, and whispered, "Wake up!"

Roland snapped upright, a colourful page plastered to his face. He had become a grotesque billboard advertising "All Dad's Garden Gifts- Now on Sale at Duncan's Depot!". Roland turned his bleary eyes towards his dad. He did not appear to be fully awake. He peeled the page away from his skin.

"I'm going to bed," he mumbled. "Too much noise."

From the doorway, a voice boomed, "Roland Trevor, go wash up and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!"

Madeline stood, hands on hips, chest out in the manner of a matador--if matadors were three hundred pounds and wore housecoats.

"Today is Father's Day, and we are taking Dad out for a treat."

"Why? He won't like it. He's not interested," said Roland. "Take me out instead. He can tag along like the loser he is."

Harvey said nothing. He didn't want to be in the company of these two. They didn't want to be with him, either.

"Your Dad likes to enjoy himself once a year. This is the day."

"Well, don't let him dress like a creep, Mom. Everyone stares."

"I'll do my best with him. We can always pretend he's from out of state, I suppose." She giggled.

"I can hear both of you, you know," said Harvey.

"Never mind, dear," said his wife. "You shower and I'll come help you dress."

"Not like a freak, please Mom," said Roland, bounding up the stairs to beat Harvey to the bathroom.

How wonderful, thought Harvey. No hot water left for me again.

###

The drive to the shopping mall was mercifully short. The time spent waiting for Roland to flit in and out of every sports shop (Harvey had counted sixteen) seemed endless. Sadly, Roland had also run into a couple of friends from college. Harvey only realised this when he was shunted into a service doorway to stand behind Madeline's bulk, hidden from sight. Five minutes and a multitude of Yeah, bro's later, he was dragged back into the main thoroughfare.

He glared at the back of his son's head, keeping the obligatory five paces behind him. His wife continually fussing over her "baby" as they walked towards the exits.

I could just turn around and head the other way, thought Harvey. They wouldn't even notice.

As if to prove that she could read his mind, Madeline turned around to scowl at him. Realising that he was getting too close to the pair, he slowed his pace. Vacantly gazing at the shop displays and smiling at the happier families that walked their way. Madeline turned again.

"Stop smiling. You look like a pervert," she hissed.

Harvey bowed his head, shamed once more. He tried to be invisible, but even the magical powers of Father's Day couldn't help with his request.

At least he would spend a happy hour in Duncan's Depot. That was something to look forward to. He knew a couple of things he might pick up in the sale. That could be something positive from this awful day. He smiled, then remembered he was not supposed to do so. He hung his face on an imaginary hook and let it sag, expressionless.

###

Just being in the cavernous store gave Harvey a thrill. The woody air, tinged with paint, wafted all around with hints of solvent and adhesive. A heady scent; Harvey liked it.

Turning into the machinery aisle, his heart pounded. The object of his desire was still on sale. The bright red unit stood out against the galvanised shelving and darkened corners at this far end of the store.

He approached it, almost fearful to touch it, terrified of yet more rejection. Its surface smooth and cold under his fingertips.

"I'll be with you in a minute, sir!" came a voice from the top of a steel ladder.

"OK," Harvey replied. "I can wait."

"Oh, you can wait, can you, Dad? How kind of you to speak for us all. You're a joke, a bad one at that."

"Roland, please don't talk to me like--"

"Or what, you'll bore me to death with your engineering anecdotes?"

"Son, I only--"

"Only what? Should have been more interesting?"

Madeline looked amused. She had trained her boy well. He had the same disgusted sneer that she wore when Harvey came near her. Those two were a pair, and he merely a canker. Alone in his own family.

"Hello, I'm Andy. How can I help you?" the ladder man appeared at ground level. He removed a pair of thick gloves and shook hands.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Andy. I'm Harvey."

"Not a problem, Harvey. Got some trouble with our cameras. I am trying to reset them. It hasn't turned out to be an easy fix, either." He laughed.

"Well, if you have time, I'd like to enquire about the Diablo Deluxe. Is this one for sale?"

"Excellent choice. Yes, half price for today only. This is the last of our stock."

"Well, I'm halfway sold already!"

"Let's take a look then, Harv, shall we?"

The two men walked towards the machine, Andy giving a full rundown of what the Diablo would munch its way through if it was fed correctly.

Madeline called out, "I'm off to the coffee shop, Harvey. Find me when you're done."

Harvey waved in acknowledgement, engrossed in his own conversation. Then, to his dismay, he realised that Roland had remained behind. He probably wanted to use this opportunity to humiliate him again.

"Would you like to fire her up?" asked the assistant.

Harvey's grin widened as he nodded. "That would be great!"

"We've got some scrap wood that you can test it with, as well." He pointed to a pile of timber by the back wall. "That way you'll feel how it runs, get an idea of its power."

"Go on, Dad, feel some power for once," said Roland.

Harvey lowered his eyes, about to change his mind.

"Maybe I should just--"

"Maybe my dad should just go back to the car, Mr. Depot Man. He can't be trusted with a pencil, let alone heavy machinery."

The colour rose from Harvey's chest, spreading to his jaw and cheeks. He feared he would be sick. He should be at home, reading and invisible.

Roland stooped to stare into his father's lowered face. He pulled his mouth into a malicious slash. He gave a pretend gasp. "Oh, no!" he mocked, "I think Daddy peed his freaky pants. How embarrassing!"

Andy cleared his throat and addressed Harvey. "Sir, let me show you what this beautiful machine can do."

He pushed an amber button, causing an alarm to beep from the inner part of the Diablo.

"Right. It is now armed. To activate the rotating blades and make her chop and chew like a hungry bear, you need to push these two green ones at the same time."

He pushed the green buttons. The Diablo roared into life, shaking the objects on nearby shelves. Harvey felt as though he were next to a fighter jet, about to take off. It was as magnificent as he knew it would be. He had to have it. It would make light work of all the yard work he had to do.

Andy approached with a flat based trolley piled high with wood. "Try these," he said. Picking up a thick plank, he fed it to the hungry machine. The plank was gone in a flash. The bucket filled with a thin layer of wood chippings. Its performance impressed Harvey. The Diablo was a magnificent machine. He made towards the woodpile.

Roland barged him out of the way. "Not for you, Dad. Much too dangerous," he said. He picked up some timber and fed it to the machine. Pleased with himself, he crowed with delight. Harvey sighed.

"Anyhow, a couple of things to note, sir," Andy continued. Harvey strained to hear him over the noise of Roland whooping and the monster's metallic jaws grinding.

Andy pointed to a lever on the side of the machine. "This opens the intake chute wider in case you need to insert a larger load. Also, as an emergency override, this red button is the Emergency Stop mechanism, which will turn off the motor instantly."

Harvey nodded. "Thanks. Appreciate the info."

"I only mention it because when our cameras went off-line today, we also blew some internal circuits. We haven't reset this stop button yet. We can't guarantee that it will work instantly."

"Oh, right." Harvey said.

"Worrying really, as this corner of the store currently is without any safety surveillance whatsoever."

He looked into Harvey's eyes and raised his chin towards the shouting youngster mashing timber into wood chips.

"Yup, it's like the dark lands down here. Cut off. Dismembered from the rest of the store."

Harvey's eyes widened, dark as espresso.

"Oh," he replied.

###

Frustrated, Madeline put her phone down. She couldn't make out anything playing on her newsfeed. Which idiot had set off a siren? Likely it was that useless fool of a husband of hers. He was such a misery to be around. This trip had been a complete waste of her time. Thankfully, it only happened once a year.

The siren wailed for a few more minutes, stopping suddenly. The instant silence ringing louder than the alarm had. She huffed in annoyance then continued to browse her phone. A smiling server brought her a fresh latte. Madeline did not acknowledge their presence.

Later, as she put her empty cup down on the table, she looked up to see her husband approaching. He was practically being carried by a pair of uniformed police officers. Harvey had turned the colour of porridge. His mouth hung loosely, his eyes blinking slowly, not focusing on anything. His hands were a pair of fledgling birds, shaking on the precipice of their first flight.

"What's happened? Have you had another turn? You're so embarrassing, Harvey." she said.

"Is this your husband, ma'am?"

She nodded.

The officers sat the crumpled man down. He slumped sideways in the tiny bistro chair.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid something serious has occurred," said the officer whose tag read 'Harris'.

"Ha! To this fool? He does it all the time. I'm sorry."

"No Ma'am. Your husband is fine, but he can't tell us his full name or any of your son's details."

"My son?" Madeline was confused. "What's going on?"

"Ma'am, it is important. What is your son's name?"

"Roland. Roland is my son. What's going on?" Her voice becoming shrill.

"Is that his full name?"

"No, it's Roland Trevor."

"Last name?"

"Slaywood. My son is Roland Trevor Slaywood."

"Ma'am, I'm afraid there is terrible news. Your son fell into some machinery and sustained fatal injuries. We are so sorry for your loss."

Madeline's howl resonated throughout the store. The horrendous sound of grief devouring a heart, unmistakable and unavoidable.

Whilst Officer Harris consoled the grieving mother, the second police officer spoke quietly to Harvey.

"I know you're in shock, sir. It is an awful thing. We've talked to the assistant who helped you and he described how your son was being reckless. Throwing things into the wood-chipper, ignoring his safety advice and the warning signs."

Harvey nodded. A tear splashed on his trembling hands.

"It was a terrible, terrible accident. You must not blame yourself."

He placed a steady hand on Harvey's shoulder, patting him sympathetically.

Madeline had stopped screaming and turned her ire towards Harvey.

"You let this happen to our boy. You didn't save him. You useless bastard."

She sobbed and gutted, silver trails sliding from her nose and eyes.

"I never want to see you again!" Spittle flew from her mouth, it gave her the appearance of an angry snake.

"Get away from me! Get him away from me!" She turned her chair to face the opposite direction. Harvey stared at her angry shoulders.

Then, somewhere in the deepest, darkest dungeon of Harvey's heart, a tiny candle flickered. For the first time in over twenty years; he felt hope come alive in him once more. He exhaled, feeling the smoke of swallowed pain leaving his body. Determination straightening his spine, ironing out years of cowering down.

I think I have just made parole; he thought. It was time to go.

He gave his contact details to the officers, told them he would seek some support and that he would be fine. He stood, pushed his chair back under the table and left the coffee shop. He didn't even glance back at Madeline. He didn't care. He was free.

As he got to the store entrance, he saw Andy talking to the departing customers. He approached him, unsure of what to say. The assistant smiled his way.

"Hello sir," he said. "Did you get what you needed at Duncan's Depot today?"

"Yes, Andy, I did," said Harvey with his chin up. "I'm much obliged to you."

They shook hands. Harvey walked towards his car (his car) smiling at the people he met in the parking lot.

Best Father's Day, ever.