Impulse controlA Chapter by Marcy Chavez“Robert, wake up”. Caroline said with a sweet and kind voice
as she gently shakes his chest with her hands. He opened up his eyes, and gave his mother a brief look
before turning the other way to look at his alarm and find it was barely 6:00
AM. He couldn't understand what kind of life or death situation could be
happening for his mother to wake him up that early, and much less after the
tiring day they have had unpacking. He simply covered his head with the covers
again without saying a word to his mother. But Caroline knew this situation
just happened when Robert had gone to bed late the previous night. Walking to
the window she opened the curtains letting the sun shine come in the room. It
was almost as if the sun had just come to end the darkness of a cloud sky. “I won’t ask again Robert, I need you up now”. Caroline
warned him, this time with that tone of voice Robert knew so well. It was the
kind of tone your mother gave you as If she was telling you, “You don’t really
want to see what is coming trust me”. He pushed the covers to his waist and
then kicked them away with his feet. Sat up on his bed and stretched his arms.
He got up and walked to the bathroom in the hallway. He turned the doorknob and
noticed it was looked, so he knocked. “I’m in here!”. Claudine shouted from the inside. If there was something that could ruin Robert’s mornings,
other than his mother making him get up early, was find the bathroom occupied. He placed his forearm on the door and leaned his forehead
over it closing his eyes trying not to think about his urge to go. “Hurry up
please!”. He said to his sister. “I’m almost done!”. Claudine replied. “I’m glad we got a house with two bathrooms, when only one
works”. He sarcastically whispered. After all the bathroom drama he came down to the kitchen and
saw his dad was sitting at the table reading the newspaper with his usual cup
of coffee on one side. His mother was washing the dishes. “Morning”. Without taking his eyes off the newspaper, his
father greeted him. “Hey”. He replied. “Robert why aren’t you dressed yet?”. His mother asked,
looking at him and taking her hand to her waist which showed discontent. “Where are we going this early anyway?”. Robert answered his
mother with a question, as he walked to the fridge to get the orange juice. “To your college registration Robert, I cannot let you and
Claudine lose one more day of school”. She said as she dried the dishes with a
rag. He stopped the glass of juice on its way to his mouth as he
heard his mother. School?, it had been just one day after they moved out, who
would know if he had not gone to school for one day?, even more, who would
think about starting school in the middle of the week?. He had the urge to
protest against his mother’s idea but, looking at his father he knew that if he
started an argument, things would get even worse for him than they already were.
So he drank his juice, the whole glass without stopping. He wiped out his mouth
with his hand and placed the glass on the sink. As he turned back, there was
his mother looking at him. “Robert, I know you must be nervous about a new school and
about being the new kid at school but, I know you are strong and smart, and I
know you will do well anywhere you go”. Caroline told him. “Ok mother”. He answered. Then he simply walked upstairs to
his bedroom to get dressed and ready. His mother was surprised of his short answered and his calm
reaction. Usually he would give her a two-minute argument about it. After
fifteen minutes Robert finally came downstairs wearing black faded jeans, black
and white converse shoes, a white t-shirt and black hoodie. What his father
didn't like was his disheveled hair and he could not keep that opinion to
himself. “For god’s sake Robert will you fix that hair of yours for
once in your life?”. He told him firmly looking at him and pointing at his
hair. “I like it this way father”. He replied with a tone of voice
that reflected his lack of interest in arguing about it. “No one styles their hair that way, no decent people at
least”. His father insisted. “I think I have the right to choose the way I style my hair,
unless there is a rule in this country that says contrary”. He answered his
father. “Oh, just as you think men can wear earrings just like girls
do”. James told him as his tone of voice was getting colder. He clearly had
knowledge about the earring Robert had pierced to his ear, back in England a
few years ago. Robert closed his right hand to a fist trying to control his
impulse of hit the table that was next to him. He just walked out and got on
the car. He knew his father
had gotten that authoritarian attitude since he had been promoted in the
military. But even Robert tried hard to respect him and his rules, he didn't like that the only times he talked to him, was to critique something about his
personality or to point out his flaws or his errors. He thought it would be
nice from him to teach him something that would help him try to be better,
something positive, just as he used to when he was little. He treasured the
memories of his father taking him out camping every year. They would spend three
entire days in the open, just father and son. And he would tell Robert about
the stars, every year he would tell him a new fact about the sky, the stars,
the galaxy or the universe. To him, it was like if they were the only two
people on earth, he remembered every single detail about it. The smell of the
grass, the smell of the big pine trees, the fresh and crystal clear water that
run in the lake, the sound of the animals, the crickets chirping at night and
the air so fresh and clean it could make your lungs feel like new. But all of that was just his past, a wonderful time of his
life that he would never see again. His present was very different, he was starting
to realize about the responsibilities you acquired once you get older, and the
language grown-ups use to talk among themselves. It was a welcome to real life Robert, kind
of thing. His father would never treat him as near as the way he treated him
when he was younger. He knew that now, Robert was mature enough to see life
from the real ugly side. Suddenly the sound of a car honking snapped Robert out of
his thoughts. He looked out the window and saw a cemetery dedicated to those
who had died in the military service. The white stones of the tombs bulged out
from the green grass. He thought about his father, even he never talked about
it, every time his father was away, the fear of him not coming back home
invaded him. He was so scared of losing his father, not only for him but for
his mother and sister. From the outside it seemed like he didn't care about his
family sometimes, but the truth was, he cared more than they could imagine. © 2014 Marcy ChavezAuthor's Note
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Added on January 14, 2014Last Updated on January 15, 2014 Author
Marcy ChavezAndheri, TX, IndiaAboutObviously my passion is writing. And writing is a gift I have to thank my wonderful father for, because he is a great writer .To me writing is the best way to get out my deepest feelings and to expres.. more..Writing
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