Page 7 of Like Fathers, Like Son
“Gray! It wasn’t for spying, it was so they could talk through the fence. It’s not creeping at all. It’s just getting to know the damn neighbour, okay? Who else does he have to talk to, apart from you filling his head with all kinds of bullshit?”
“Bullshit? Is it bullshit if you did that stuff yourself, Dory? Is it bullshit, if you were doing all this stalking shit before he was even born? You talk like I’m the bad influence, but at least when I take him to set fires, it’s controlled and I’m supervising him. You? You’re just setting him loose to creep on the poor girl next door. Next thing her parents are going to be banging on our door, and calling us psychos. Do you really want all that shit happening again?”
“Gray!” Daddy Dory dragged daddy Gray out of the room then, and they talked in angry whispers for a few minutes, while I picked up odd words like ‘stalker’ and ‘creep’ and most interesting of all… ‘murderer’.
I was starting to wonder just who my parents really were, because this all sounded like the kind of stuff that only happens in those movies they won’t let me watch, but I sneakily listen to through the wall.
What if my parents weren’t who I thought they were? What if they were secret agents or something? What if they were spies? It’d be so cool to have spies for dads.
4
Anneka
Mydadwassoangry when he saw the fence. I didn’t say how it happened, or who did it, but I guess he figured it out, because he went round to Blaze’s house to yell at them. I didn’t hear the conversation, but when he came back home, he was muttering something about ‘bizarre fucked up threeway relationships’ or something, and he stayed cranky all night.
I went to my room, and stayed out of his way so he wouldn’t shout at me, but I heard him shouting at mum about it. He seemed to enjoy shouting at people, but I hated it. It made me jumpy, because it meant he was angry, and sometimes it was something that I did that made him that way.
I curled up on my bed with my diary, writing my heart and soul into it, just like I always did. I could have typed it on my laptop, but I enjoyed the feel of the diary pages, and the way I could pick it up anytime and just add to it.
Dear Diary
Dad’s pissed again, and I’m staying out of his way. He got really angry about the hole in the fence that Blaze and his dad made, and went over to yell at them about it. I hope Blaze didn’t get into any trouble for it, even though it did make me feel weird that they did it at all.
He has this weird thing with my hair, and he always wants to touch it. He says it looks like fire, or something. I looked up his name in the dictionary, because I thought it referred to fire like he said, and it does. That’s a weird name for a person, right? I heard him say that he has a sister called Ember, and a baby brother called Ash. If you think about it, those names are fire-related too. I wonder why everything is about fire in their family.
I still think it’s strange that they have two dads, but I don’t understand how it works, because it’s not the normal way. Does that mean it’s wrong though? Are they all married? Is that something people can do? I suppose if one dad is shouty like mine, it’d be nice to have a nicer one. One who doesn’t shout so much. What if they both shout though? What if they’re both mean and angry all the time?
I sat back against my pillow, staring out of the window while I pondered over the horrible thought of two dads like mine.
There was movement in the garden even though it was getting dark. There was light out there. Why would there be light? Wait. I sat up, and leaned closer to the window. That wasn’t just light. It was fire.The fence was on fire!
Blaze
THAT ANGRY MAN FROM next door was so rude to my dads and my mum, who sat and cried afterwards. Who makes women cry like that? I sat beside her and tried to make her less sad, but after she hugged me, she rubbed at her face, and said something about ‘assholes everywhere’ and went to the kitchen to bake cookies. That’s the cool thing about mum. When she’s upset, she bakes cookies, or little cakes with icing on.
“You shoulda let me punch that fucker, baby.”
“Gray, don’t talk like that in front of the kids. I swear we talked about this. We swore we’d be great parents. We swore we’d do it all better than our parents did. We’re all failing. Actually, no, that’s bullshit. Wilma’s not failing. She’s amazing. She’s keeping three children sane and healthy, while she’s incubating two more, and what are we doing to help? We’re leading Blaze astray, that’s what we’re doing.”
I was sitting outside the utility room, where daddy Dory had dragged daddy Gray after that mean man came to yell at them. They didn’t know I was listening, but I couldn’t help it. That man had really scared me, and I was so glad my brother and sister were already in bed, and didn’t have to be there. I should have been in bed too, but sometimes I come back down and they let me stay up with them for longer.
“Dory, Blaze is an incredible kid. He’s so fucking smart. Did you ever imagine we’d have a kid as bright as him? You saw those aptitude tests they gave him. He’s practically a fucking genius. So don’t tell me we’re failing here, because we’re raising the next fucking inventor of something that’ll change the world. You mark my words.”
“If we’re not careful, we’ll be raising the next Ted Bundy or something.”
I didn’t know who that was, but maybe it was a cool arsonist, because that was what I was becoming. Daddy Gray said that arson was in my blood, and it must be, because fire was so thrilling, and I couldn’t wait to make some again.
“Dory, you’re the one teaching him stalking and stuff.”
Daddy Dory was quiet for a moment. “He is amazing though, isn’t he? We can’t let this asshole from next door crush his spirit. He’s going to change the world, like you said. It’s up to us to make sure he does it in a positive way. That means we don’t let assholes with fucking fence obsession get in his way, or under his skin.”
“Fuck his fence, Dory. That thing looks like a bag of shit anyway. He’s lucky we don’t insist he replaces the whole thing. It’s on his side.”
The fence. It all came back to that stupid fence, didn’t it? I already hated it, because it was right there in the way, keeping me from Anneka. And now it was the cause of the yelling, and making mum cry.
I walked to the back window in the living room, and stared out at the fence. It would be better if it wasn’t there anymore. Then nobody could get mad about it, right?
I heard my dads go into the kitchen to talk to mum, and then they all went upstairs, leaving the cookies half mixed. If they were going for some grown-up time, it was like they were giving me room to do what had to be done. I gathered up dad’s bag, his ‘arson kit’ as he called it, and then I headed outside.
