Hopes (An original short story)

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"Grandpa, grandpa, look at those fishes!" The little boy pulled Russell by his hand toward the bridge. The bridge crossed an artificial pond. From the height of a bird's flight, the pond looked like glasses with the nose bridge, where it was crossed in its narrowest spot. The sun laid its slanted rays on the pond and, wrapped in brown, yellow and red falling leaves, the park looked like an unshaved ‘Cookie monster'.

Led by his grandson Jerome, Russell turned to his son David, waved at him invitingly, and saw him, unhurriedly, walking towards the bridge. As they arrived at the middle of the bridge, Russell leaned on the railing while little Jerome put his head through the vertical support bars.

"Look at this red one.  OOOO… And look this one. It's all golden."

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"Big, isn't it?"

"Yeah," the boy turned his happy face to Russell.

"I think your dad has some bread with him."

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"Really? Dad, give me some. I want to feed the fishes." Jerome cupped his palms and stretched them to David. David broke the loaf in half, tore away the soft insides and gave it to his son.

"Just don't throw it all to them at once. Okay? And don't put your shoulders through the bars."He had to add since Jerome, preoccupied with feeding, immediately forgot about his existence. "Dad, watch out for this guy, ok?" Russell didn't say anything, only grabbed grandson by the collar of his short.

The wind blew and Russell followed the trajectory of the whirled up leaves. "How are you doing, David?"

His son tore his gaze from the water and looked at the line where trees met the sky.

"I dunno…ok." Then, after pausing, as he gathered himself for a thoughtful answer. "Good. Everything is good."

"How are things with the pretty girl you married?" Russell smiled and rumpled the hair on David's head. David, also smiling, pushed away Russell's hand and smoothed out his hair. But his smile was a not that joyful. "Is she being a good wife? Does she cook and clean for you?"

"Cooks and cleans? Come on? She works just like I do. Plus, we have a lady who comes every week and helps us out. It's not that."

"What then?"

David didn't answer, only tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and threw it, as if it were a baseball, far into the pond.

Russell waited until the bread fell into the water and turned to David. At this moment their eyes meet, after which David turned his eyes back to the water.

"Remember, back when I was fourteen, you told me that the best sex happens when you are in love with the woman?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you say that?"

Russell smiled again, but this time his smile was feeble, as if half-baked.

"At the moment, I thought it was the right thing to say."

"But you didn't believe so, did you?"

Now it came Russell's time for a silent contemplation.

"I said what I thought, son ... I said what I thought."

David tore another piece of bread and threw it again far away from the swarm of red and golden fishes that Jerome fed. "And what about mom? Didn't you love her?"

"I loved her, just like you love your wife. You love her don't you?"

"I do." David looked at Jerome who had now put half of his body through the bars. "Jerome, what are you doing! Get back!" After Jerome complied, he came back to the interrupted conversation.

"Don't you think it's scary?"

"Scary? What?"

"That we waited to meet this special someone, with whom everything would be right and perfect and then when we…"

"It turns out to be not that perfect." Russell looked up at the treetops where a flight of crows had just started a sudden and heated discussion.

David threw another piece of bread far into the pond. "Isn't it scary that people hope for something all their lives and then it turns out they hoped for nothing. That moment when they know the truth – that there is no such thing as a perfect … Nothing really special waits for them. Not anything perfect anyway, not what they expected and hoped for."

"Well." Russell took a deep breath. "At first it's kind of scary, but then…" David turned his head towards Russell in expectation. "Then you sort of get used to it."

"Settling." Another piece of bread followed this half question and half statement.

"Maybe settling with your own life, but hoping for the better one to come. Hope is a good thing, son. Good thing. Sometimes it's all you've got."

"Those are empty hopes, Dad. And I am a realist."

Russell smiled and shook his head.

"Does this mean, you'll tell this to Jerome when he pops the question to you in, say, ten years?"

The answer seemed to be at the tip of David's tongue, but a sudden thought stopped him.

He looked at Jerome intently and yet as though he was looking through him.

"I don't know, Dad." Then as if breaking away from his thought and gathering himself said: "We'll see."

"Hey, Jerome, do you want your grandpa to be your horse?"

By now Jerome had fed all his bread to the fish. "Yeah!"

Russell bent down, picked up Jerome under his armpits, lifted him up, kissed him on a rosy cheek and placed him securely around his neck.