This is a continuation of the following stories:Sins of the father by (that1hugboxer),Much merriment afoot by (that1hugboxer),The words don’t exist by(that1hugboxer),The Illiwara curse by(that1hugboxer),
The Everywhen by(that1hugboxer),Štěpán & Mammoth by (that1hugboxer),A long way from Brisbane by(that1hugboxer),If hatred had a face by(that1hugboxer),Kookaburra save some there for me by(that1hugboxer),Hoagie’s hero By(that1hugboxer),Biwds ov a feathah by(that1hugboxer)
You are Duncan, today you , your brother Jessie and your father are going for a range day at the Vanderholt farm.
Jessie comes up to you excited.
“Big bro you aren’t going to believe what dad did!”
You raise an eyebrow.
Jessie barely able to contain himself begins to explain.
“He got a fluffy!”
You have a look of concern on your face.
“And that’s a good thing?”
Jessie grins.
“Oh you’ll see.”
You hand Jessie his shotgun and ammo then head over to the gun safe to pick out a rifle but your dad is taking his sweet time looking over your selection.
As your dad is picking out a rifle from the safe he stops briefly before picking up a rifle and screams in an accusatory tone.
“Bloody ell Duncan! You butchered it like a Red neck on bathtub gin!”
You know exactly what he’s referring to.
You smile.
“That’s the shanghaied Rhodesian.”
Your dad bursts out laughing.
“That’s foul Duncan!”
In your dad’s hands is a Chinese type 56 SKS ,stock cut down to an Obrez configuration and painted Rhodesian camouflage, a barret style muzzle brake on the end of the barrel and the cherry on top it’s has a saddle ring with a Walmart sling attached
“What’s the story behind it?”
You laugh
“I got it from my marine buddy as a trade for a bottle of wine ,The barrel and stock were already ruined beyond repair when I got it, so I said screw it. One $200 extortion fee to Uncle Sam later and suddenly it’s not a felony.”
Your dad looks at you puzzled.
“I didn’t know you were in the marines.”
You sigh.
“I…. Didn’t make the cut . Not just for the marines for but the army in general. My buddy however went on to be a marine.”
Dad puts his hand on your shoulder.
“You inherited my night blindness”
“Yeah it’s not nearly as bad as when i was in my teens but night blindness is an automatic exemption from military service.”
Your dad realizing that this is a sore subject decides to switch the subject back the rifle.
“Do you mind if I use this at range today?”
“Sure”
Dad takes both the gun and ammunition to the car
Now able to access the safe you pick out your Hispano Suiza MP43-44, the crown jewel of your collection, you knew better than to ask the previous owner how they obtained this piece from the Holy See’s armory. But considering that the Vatican has yet to explain the disappearance of Emanuela Orlandi , you consider this a stones and glass houses situation.
Putting your undiscovered ownership of a very much possibly smuggled weapon aside you carry both the firearm of dubious origin and the ammunition for it to the car
As you and your dad load the rifles and ammunition into the car,you see an orange and white unicorn fluffy with four prosthetic legs hobbles towards your dad .
“Pippi wan’ huggies fwom Daddeh.”
Your dad places his things in the trunk then bends down and picks up Pippi like a toddler.
“You are spoiled rotten Pippi, but Daddy can’t say no to a hug from his little drop bear.”
You look over at your father realizing he’s treating a fluffy no different from how he treated you before the family moved to the us.
You should be angry but you’re more confused than anything. What caused him to become so hateful towards you? Even if the answer is a stupid cop out, you pull your dad aside , sitting down on the porch he abandoned you at all those years ago, ask him point blank.
“What is the real reason you abandoned me?”
Your dad looks at you and talks in circles for a moment trying to change the subject.
You look at your dad and smile.
“We’re both men here, I can take it.”
Your dad sighs.
“Because both you and I are half casts.”
Your father continues.
“I was one of the last stolen generations children. The things I experienced were God awful. When you were born I swore that no matter what happened I would shield you from that fate. Unfortunately despite the government claiming to have ended the practice of separating mixed blood children from their parents in the late 70s , it went on secretly until the mid 2000s. The day your grandfather took you to the Wandjina cave, a government agent came looking for you.”
Your dad begins to tear up.
“Mr Jiemba Kukatja killed him and buried him in the outback. That’s why we moved to the us so suddenly.
I thought that would be the end of it but, the government sent someone after us. The reason I dropped you off here specifically is because the man who lived here was a former police officer. I spoke with him privately several times over the months prior to leaving you here. He promised me he would take care of you and take the secret of what really happened to his grave. I was a piece of shit to you that night, I thought if you hated me you would be more willing to drop your aboriginal name and make it more difficult for them to locate you.
I don’t expect you to forgive me, Hell I don’t even expect you to believe me but it’s the truth.
I’m a shitty father who gave his child life long trauma, regardless of the circumstances my actions were inexcusable.
But given the choice I’d do it all over again if the alternative is you living through what I did.”
You look at your dad silently for a solid minute before responding.
“That agent you spoke of who followed us here…. He wouldn’t happen to be named Mason Ford would he?”
Your dad turns pale.
“How do you know that?!”
You are taken back to when you were 8 years old living with your adoptive grandparents.
A man wearing a suit and tie follows your grandfathers car on his way home after picking you up from school early.
The school had called him stating a man they didn’t recognize was claiming to be a friend of the family and was there to pick you up.
“Grandpa… who is that man?”
Your grandfather doesn’t respond.
As you pull into your the driveway of your home, your grandmother steps out of the house motioning you both to hurry.
Your grandfather grabs the shotgun from the back seat and ushers you inside the house .
Shortly after the man following you pulls into the driveway.
The man violently knocks on the front door. Speaking firmly in a raspy Australian accent
“ Mason Ford Aboriginal Protection Officer!”
Your adoptive grandmother yells at him in her thick Czech accent.
“Get off property now!”
The man kicks in the door.
“Alright you decrepit hag hand over the Rock ape and we’ll pretend this never hap….”
His eyes grow wide as he sees your grandmother shouldering her Hispano Suiza MP43-44.
You are brought back to the present by Pippi climbing into your lap.
You look at your dad.
“Let’s just say Grandma Zofie taught him the importance of respecting your elders.”
As you guys ride to the farm, you find yourself feeling slightly less hated when looking at your father. It’s like a thimble of water being tossed out of a sinking ship, however slight it may be it is in fact less than it was before.
