Bravery

A narrative about the underlining of bravery and what we are meant to do, told in a fictional story of a old man telling his depressed grandson a story.

                               

One night, a young man ended his shift at the factory and returned home, an old run down shack tucked in the corner of a bad street in the city, it was late at night and he was cold, tired and hungry. Silently the young man helped his sickly grandfather make their miserable, pitiful meal of rice and beans, a routine meal brought by to long of grueling hours, sweating and aching in the old, dying factory that never paid enough to help them do better.                                                        'You are quiet this night.' the grandfather observed, watching the young man as he stabbed at his meal with utter vengeance. 'What is troubling you so deeply?"          'Oh, everything.' The young man  grumbled, shoving the plate from himself with disgust. 'the work at the factory; these pathetic meals that my measly pay-check can barely afford to buy, this miserable place.' grazing his eyes around the small cramped room, that neither kept them warm or dry during the long miserable days. 'We deserve better then all of this, we deserve the good stuff in life, we deserve the money; we deserve to be happy like everyone else.'                                             'My dear boy, I believe it is time for me to tell you a little story.' the Grandfather announced, pushing his empty plate aside and settling more comfortably on the bed. 'And I want you to pay close attention to me, because what this story truly means should never be taken lightly.'                                               'Now, in this story, there was a massive structure where thousands of people were living, it was a good building, it faced many dark days, but it always  stood proudly.    Only what they did not know, is that the building would be soon consumed by such a massive and terrifying fire that there would be no hope of saving it....the people had been warned, but none but a small few believed it was so.                                       One day a man was instructed to put on a special suit that would protect him from the fire, the person instructing the young man was his father, and since the young man trusted  and loved his father, he obediently complied with his fathers wishes.             Now the suit was stiff, awkward and did not bend well and instantly began to warm up from his body heat, and the pack that the father strapped to his back was heavy and awkward, but the young man was able to bare it, because his father had instructed his son millions of times before what to do when the fire would come. And just as the pack was secure, there was a screaming alarm drumming up and down the halls, and smoke rolled down the halls like water, the smell of fire and burning wood and metal filled one's nose with furious pain, around them people screamed and run madly to and fro.                                                                                                         'Go,' the young man's father instructed, 'I have prepared you for this moment, you know what to do.'                   

Obediently the young man took off down the hall.                                                   Around him giant waves of fire crashed and fell over the people like a hurricane wave; walls and parts of the ceiling hailed down over the top of people like rain, smoked filled their lungs, burned their eyes and sent people blindly falling into the walls of flames, people screamed, yelled and pushed as they fought to escape.                   For the young man, the fire would not touch his flesh and the smoke barely effected his breathing, sweat stung his eyes and the sound of the alarm and the screaming people pained his ears, but he was safe.                                                               In his mind, he tried to keep his father's instructions replaying in his head, going over and over everything his father had instructed of him.                                             Once in awhile, a hurt or terrified person would grab him and beg him for help, and he always pointed in the direction of the exit. This was not what his father instructed him to do in helping those in need...                                                                 Perhaps his excuse was the suit was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, or the pack was causing him pain, or perhaps it was the horrible sound of the the building groaning and screaming as it prepared itself to collapse on top of them....whatever be the reason, the young man pointed to the exit and then watched them die.               Eventually the young man found the exit himself, where he fell into the waiting arms of his weeping father. After, they had taken control of their emotions, the father looked deeply into his son's eyes. 'My son, is there no one else, did no one ask for help?'  'Only five called for help, father,' the young man gasped, 'But they did not make it out alive.'                                                                                                 'Did not make it....' the father groaned, as if not believing what his own son was telling him, as if it sounded impossible to believe, looking back at the burning building, the father sobbed softly, 'Did not make it....'                                                           Noticing his father trembling and sobbing uncontrollably, the young man quickly jerked and pulled at the pack to be finally rid of it, and getting to his grieving and staggering father, watching the building ablaze..                                                With a final jerk, the young man pulled the pack from off his back, where it landed with a loud thud on the ground and erupted open and its contents laid scattered on the ground. The young man looked down at the contents of the pack and the sight of it drove him miserably to his knees and wildly pawing at the contents as he sobbed and wailed and listened to the last screams of the people before the building gave one last shudder and wail, as it crumbled into one large inferno mass on the ground.' 'But what was in the pack?' the man questioned, when his grandfather suddenly ended the story and stared at him intently, his old eyes shining in the dim light. 'Come on, grandpa,' the man demanded, 'What was in the pack? what made him react like that?'   Heaving a long, heavy sigh, the grandfather closed his eyes and grasped his grandson's hand.                                                                                                            'Five suits, my boy.' He whispered softly, 'five identical suits that the father had packed for the boy to give to any one who called for help.' smiling sadly, his grandfather shook his weary head slowly, 'The father's instructions were for his son to go through the building and helping anyone who sought it, it was not for his son's safety, he was already safe, his father had prepared and taught him to go through the building and save anyone who sought for help.'                                                         Sitting outside, the young man glanced across the street at a neighbor who fought everyday with addictions and his unsatisfied wife, who sought for other men's companionship to ease her frustrations....and all around them, there were many more who struggled with other sins and hell....                                                               If his grandfather hadn't been bed ridden since his last stroke, the young man knew his grandfather would be out there preaching to them, spreading the only salvation and hope for a dying world, Jesus Christ.                                                                 ''When did we Christians suddenly stop being like grandpa and more like the world...   'no,' he told himself as he bowed his head in shame, as he thought of his attitude which prompted his grandfather to tell him that story. 'more like me?'

Author's Note

what is your opinion....despite the obvious grammar and structure problems..
as a story and a meaning.....

Reviews

[alifeacoustic]

A great story, with a moral and lessons for us all. I like the twists in the tale and that the suit wouldn't have been as burdensome if he had given help to the others. Cleverly written and very enjoyable.

[Rio]

Thank you for the review.....much appreciated.....

[alifeacoustic]

You're very welcome.