Prologue

The grandson settles in to tell the story of his grandfather's final week. Its a short prologue but sets the stage nicely I think.

Prologue

                The day started out almost what I would call normal. I woke up hours before anyone else in the house and put the free time to good use by doing absolutely nothing. It only lasts for so long however on any given Saturday morning because my oldest child has to be up and eat at a certain time; he’s type one diabetic. It’s never been a huge issue for him since he’s dealt with it from age four. Basically it only requires that he and his parents pay attention and care enough to treat as needed. All in all that doesn’t usually turn out to be too difficult for your standard issue loving parents.

                That’s just the thing with Sara and me though; we are far from standard issue parents. The two of us met and began hanging out and getting to know one another about the time Christopher transferred to her second grade classroom. At first he was only this child that she wanted me to meet. He caused trouble sure and was in special education classes, but he was also very unique and special in his own ways. As a single man of twenty-six I was interested in the boy’s story though admittedly more-so because Sara was telling it than the right reasons; at first anyway.

                As it turned out Christopher soon wound up living briefly on the street with his biological father. We didn’t know a great deal about type one diabetes but we knew Christopher didn’t need to live on the street. So we called social services and other teachers, pretty much anyone and everyone we could think of. The sad truth we gleaned was that no one else wanted the boy. Apparently he was doomed to try and tough it out on the streets with his father. Even social services, as great of things as they do, couldn’t do anything until Christopher was actually hurt. We figured that the first time he got hurt might just kill him so we looked for another answer.

                When the real solution began to crystallize I was driving Sara around shopping for presents for the less financially advantaged children at her school. She led this drive every year I learned and marveled at the way she could walk into the worst neighborhoods without even hesitating. I recall once when she went to knock on a door in one of the so called bad neighborhoods. Preprogrammed prejudices led me to be protective of a pretty white girl walking directly in front of a few African American upper teens that seemed to be staring at her. This wasn’t something I wanted to have to do but if they tried something, I was ready to protect. When they did finally say something it was to call her by her school name. Suddenly instead of threatening gang members they appeared to be just what they were, regular children. Sara turned around and waved saying, “You better be staying out of trouble!” The boy in the center smiled a beautiful smile and replied, “I am Ms. W, I promise.”

                It was a moment of self examination for me. Here I was worried about her when at the time the worst person in the situation was the self righteous white boy driving the car. It was a very important lesson that I have never forgotten and I realized that the time another solid truth. This little boy Christopher was no different from any other disadvantaged child. Who could say what for the parents but as for the child in any situation; they didn’t choose their neighborhood or their household income. So when Sara turned to be soon and said sternly, “If no one else will take him, I will,” I knew two things. One was that she was drop dead serious and the other that I was falling in love with her.

                All of those memories flooded back as I watched him eat breakfast like he was starving to death at my kitchen table. The funny thing is that when we took custody years ago, he was actually starving. From age eight to now fifteen Christopher had grown and matured fairly nicely.  Now he was as much my son as the toddler scampering around the play pin in the next room, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

                After he finished and took insulin and other medications he didn’t go back to sleep. Instead he looked at me and said, “Dad, what was the hardest week of your life?” I stared at him in slight disbelief at such a deep question. Usually he would make sure he wasn’t grounded from whatever video game he wanted to play for an hour or so. Why would this Saturday be any different? I like to mess with Christopher from time to time so I said, “Oh that’s easy; the week I learned that Sara and you came as a packaged deal.”

                “Ah! Seriously what was the hardest week of your childhood,” he said knowing that I was joking before. This question actually was easy. It was a so called no-brainer. I looked at his deep brown eyes and wondered what would bring up such a question. But I didn’t call him on it. The older he got the fewer of these Father-Son moments we would have. Instead I went with it, “Come on let’s sit on the sofa where we can watch your little brother.” We walked in and sat on the nice cushy couch. Both of us smiled at a cooing sound made by my youngest son. “Okay you sure you want to hear this?” I asked in all seriousness. This was his last and only way out. If he chose not to take it, he was in for a long and dramatic story. He looked up at me and said, “Yes sir, I really want to hear it. Go ahead and even get long winded if you have to.”

                “Watch it now,” I said jokingly pointing my finger at him to which he held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, you asked for it. The hardest week of my childhood is as fresh in my mind today as it was when I lived it. It was the week we got the call.”

                “The call?” Christopher asked.

                “Yes, the call. Allow me to explain.”

Reviews

[Brenden Moran]

Wow. Not going to lie, I really want to read the first chapter. Its very good. However, if I may allow one suggestion. The introduction(or prologue) has a bit of rushed feeling. I feel like there is SO much you just want to throw out onto the page which is good, but you need to wait a little bit longer. He has diabetes, he was on the street, you love her, you want her in the story as much as the boy, and your the father...its just too much. I'd advise shortening the prologue in order to leave ambiguity for the characters. You don't want to reveal EVERYTHING about the characters now(which you don't of course). You want to save room for growth later on. Or if there is no "later on", then perhaps simplify the character, and leave room for the reader to form who He or She wants the character to be based of your brief, but impacting preview of the person. Anyhow, I wish you the best of luck in the chapters to come and I'll be checking up on your progress;)