Bleary optics slowly peeled open. The tangled mass of curls were matted with the blissful slumber of a night slept like a baby. Laying in his bed with his blankets up around his chin, Dustin Henderson had a few thoughts break though his waking mind. It was Sunday again. Not just any Sunday. It was Father’s Day. Big Deal. It was just another day to the boy who had enough problems all on his own.

He managed to toss aside the blanket and push himself to a sitting position. A yawn erupted from the chasm of his very soul. Father’s Day meant more to other people, but not to Dustin. How could you appreciate something that you never had? He was wearing his favorite pair of Star Wars pajamas as he padded barefoot into the bathroom. He mumbled a few unintelligible words as he shuffled along on his predestined path.

His mom was in the kitchen making breakfast. He could smell the bacon and eggs. Every year, she felt like she had to overcompensate for what he didn’t remember having in the first place. “Dustin? Your breakfast is almost done! Don’t let it get cold!” She called to him in a sing-song voice that really felt like the back end of a brillo pad.

“”Yeah Mom. Okay.” He turned his head to the side to allow his voice to go swiftly down the hallway toward the kitchen. He was only 14 years old, but he knew the acoustics of sound and how it traveled. Being a genius was just his burden to bear. He reached for a washcloth and began the sullen task of washing his face so he could actually be more fully awake on this particular day of days. It meant something to his mother. It just simply didn’t to him.

Mrs. Henderson was a rotund woman who had a big heart. She adored Dustin with all that she had. She hated that she couldn’t give him all the things in life that he deserved. All the books she’d read over the years told her that she was doing a good job. She thought she was too since the boy was never in any sort of trouble. She was just a single mom and felt like she had to make up for everything he missed including a father. The last crackling of the bacon struck her instincts as a cook. She had grabbed her paper towel covered plate. She used the spatula in her right hand to lay the meat on the towel to drain out all the grease. “Dustin!” She called out to her son again.

The thought had once occurred to her that Dustin needed a positive male role model. The dating scene however didn’t really appeal to her. The unknown aspect of it all was enough to aggravate her ulcer. She wasn’t about to do it. Dustin was her top priority. Dustin was where all her devotion was focused. She moved to the refrigerator to pull out her carton of orange juice. She started to pour it into a clean glass. By now Dustin was finally in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Sleepyhead. Got a big day planned for today?” She asked her son as she sat the glass on the table in front of where her son was sitting. She started to plate up his breakfast in a happy manner emanating her desire for how this day would go for them.

“Probably Mom. I just woke up so I don’t know.” He mumbled. Dustin reached for the juice to tip it back into his parched gullet. The refreshing liquid laced with Vitamin C gave him a rush of energy that he needed. He sat it down just as his mom sat the plate in front of him. He may have just been a kid, but he could sense the same thing every year. The elephant in the room every Father’s Day was the fact that he didn’t have one. “Mom, can you sit down for a second please?” He decided it was time to address the situation once and for all.

Mrs. Henderson knew she was overcompensating. She listened to Dustin and his request to sit. “Okay sweetheart. Is everything okay? The bacon isn’t too hot is it?” She was the textbook definition of a mother hen.

“No. The bacon is fine. The eggs are fine. Everything is fine. And so am I.” He inhaled sharply before letting it out again. “You do this every year for as long as I can remember. It was fine when I was six, but I’m not six anymore. “ They said the eyes were the windows of the soul. Right now, his mom’s eyes told him everything. “I don’t remember Dad. I don’t blame him or you for what happened. No one planned on him getting sick.” Dustin knew what happened to his father. It was something that he’d been fully aware of all his life. His father had contracted pancreatic cancer and died when Dustin was an infant. His dad was originally from Ohio and lived near a nuclear reactor that existed in a place called Fernald. It was something that he couldn’t change and neither could his mother.

Mrs. Henderson’s eyes began to cloud over with tears. “I’m sorry baby.” She reached to caress the disheveled brown curls of her son. “You know you’re just as smart as he was. Most brilliant man I ever knew.” Tears left her eyes racing down her cheeks and splashing on her shirt.

“I know Mom. It’s okay. We can let him go this year okay? It’s been fourteen years. I turned out okay. I’m absolutely adorable and everybody loves me.” He grinned trying to ease the tension with a gentle smile. His grin was notoriously infectious and he knew it. “So let’s just tell Dad goodbye this year okay?”

Mrs. Henderson pursed her lips and nodded through the tears. “Alright baby.” She managed to say. She began to breathe with measured breaths. She was trying to keep herself from losing all her self control. She pulled Dustin close to her heart and hugged him closely.

He held onto his mom. He knew this was hard for her. He’d also known just how much he looked like his father. Pictures told a lot. He had no recollection of his father, but that didn’t turn off his feelings for how hard this was for his mother. He returned his mother’s embrace and whispered a few words in her ear. “Happy Father’s Day, Mom.”


 

"I Am On A Curiosity Voyage, And I Need My Paddles To Travel."