Page 38 of Fight or Flight
I’m about halfway home when my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to check the notification.
Dad: I hear congratulations are in order
I pause and unlock my phone to answer him.
Shane: thanks, I found out a few hours ago
Shane: can I call you?
I need to ask him a few questions, and it’s easier to do it over a call than it is to text.
Instead of answering me, my phone rings.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks. “I figured you’d be celebrating with your friends and too busy to talk to your dad.”
“I was. I’m just heading back to the house.”
“Is everything okay? You don’t sound like someone who was just named leader of the Rebels.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to the idea. I mean, up until a few hours ago, I was going to help my friend with his campaign, and now I’ve got the position he wanted.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“I’m notnothappy.”
“Shane, what’s going on with you?” he asks, his voice full of concern. “Surely this isn’t that much of a shock that you can’t even be happy about it.”
“It kinda is,” I say. “I’ve never made any indication that I wanted the job, so it sort of came out of nowhere when they announced it.”
“We’ve talked about this for years,” he says patiently. “This was always the plan.”
“How could it always have been the plan if it’s a new thing this year? We’ve always had elections,” I point out.
“Not being appointed,” he says dismissively. “But taking your turn at leadership.”
“When has that ever been the plan for me?” I stop walking and look around to make sure I’m alone on the path. I don’t want to have this part of the conversation in front of an audience if it’s going where I think it is.
“It’s been the plan for you since your brother died,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s true KJ wouldhave been a better fit for the role, but it’s tradition, and since he’s not there, the responsibility falls on you to step up.”
“I don’t think I’ll be good at it,” I say honestly. “I’m not KJ.”
“No, you’re not. But you’re my son, and a Matheson. You’ll step up and fill your brother’s shoes because that’s what’s necessary. Right?”
“Yeah,” I say, my throat tight.
“I have to go,” he says. “But try to understand that this is a good thing, even if the news is a shock right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I say because it’s easier than trying to tell him that I’m not my brother and I’m my own person who wants different things than he did. “Love you.”
“I love you too. And please don’t say anything about your doubts to your mother. It’s not a good time for her right now.”
“Of course. Can you tell her I love her and I’ll talk to her later?”
“I’ll do that. Goodbye, Shane.”
“Bye, Dad.”
