“Papa, don’t go! Darling, dont leave us! Daddy, dont buy me anything else, or Alfie either. Just stay alive with us! We dont need toy cars or sweets. No presentsjust you here with us!” cried six-year-old Oliver, clinging to his fathers leg.
Their mother was sobbing in the next room, too weak to rise and step outside.
Meanwhile, fourteen-year-old Alfie stood with clenched fists, love for his father warring with hatred in his heart.
Oliver was just a childhe didnt understand. But Alfie had seen how badly their mother had suffered. Just the day before, she had knelt, begging their father to stay, even for a little whilejust until Oliver was older. But her pleas had changed nothing.
“Stop it! Get up! Dont humiliate yourselfhe doesnt care! He doesnt want any of us, so let him go!” Alfie rushed forward, prying his little brother away from their father.
“Son, why are you like this? Ill visit. Ill help. I just wont live here anymore. But Ill love you no lesswe just decided it this way,” their father began.
“Who decided? You decided! You think I didnt hear? Mum begged you not to leave! Were your family! And youre walking awayto some woman! Is she worth more than us?” Alfie fought back tears.
***
Family Games
If their father had hugged him, set down his bags, and admitted it was all a stupid mistake… Alfie would have thrown his arms around him. Forgotten everything. Forgiven him.
Because this was his fatherthe one whod taught him to fix a car, taken him fishing for pike, played football with him, read him stories at bedtime. How could he erase all that? Erase them? For what?
Oliver wailed, their mother wept, and their fatherafter one last glanceslumped his shoulders and left.
“Papa! Dont go!” echoed behind him.
***
After that, life changed.
Alfie grew to hate his father. He refused to see him, hurling back any gifts he brought.
Oliver waitedsometimes by the door, sometimes on the balcony, staring into the distance. Their father asked to take them out, but their mother refused.
Not that Alfie wanted to go. Oliver ached to see him, but they told him, “Your father doesnt want you.”
Their mother would have proudly refused child support, but they needed the money.
“Your father fell in love. Thats how it goes! Sweeter pastures, eh? He doesnt want you anymorehell have new children soon!” she often said.
Alfie listened grimly. Oliver cried.
***
A year later, their father returned. Or tried to. Oliver wasnt homejust Alfie and their mother. Their father begged forgiveness, said hed made a mistake, couldnt live without them.
But their mother wouldnt take him back. This was her revenge. And Alfie wouldnt forgive eitherthe wound was still raw.
Oliver wasnt asked. He was still too young.
***
Years passed. Alfie went into trade. Oliver became a doctor. The older brother had a family now; the younger cared for their mother until her passing.
Soon after, Oliver decided to marry his childhood sweetheart, Emily. Before the wedding, business took Alfie to another town, and he suggested they travel together. They took the train instead of driving, sipping tea as the wheels clattered beneath them.
Though they rarely saw each other, they got on wellthough they were opposites in temperament. Alfie, stubborn and unyielding, only listened to himself. He jokingly called Oliver “Mr. Mercy,” advising him to toughen upkindness wasnt in fashion.
After finishing their business, they wandered the unfamiliar, beautiful city before heading back to the station.
Near the entrance, Alfie nearly tripped over a mana filthy, bearded figure with no legs, sitting on cardboard. Disgusted, Alfie muttered about beggars being in the way.
The man looked up.
Oliver had already walked ahead when he heard Alfies laughter. He turned back.
Alfie was pointing at the beggar, roaring. Oliver grabbed his sleeve and pulled him away.
“Stop it! Thats vile. You dont know what hes been throughits not for us to judge!” he whispered.
“Not for us? Oh, it is. Dont you recognize him? You were too young. But I know those eyesgreen, just like ours. Mum always said she fell for his eyes. What a waste. Well, welllook whos sunk so low. Recognise us, Dad? Didnt expect this, did you? Theres justice after all!” Alfie spat.
Oliver stood frozen. The man on the ground wept silently, murmuring only, “Youre both so handsome.”
“Youre nothing like him. Thank God. But shame youre our father! Wheres that woman you left us for, eh? Living high while you rot?” Alfie sneered.
“Enough! Stop itnow!” Oliver shouted.
Alfie turned to snap backbut gasped.
Oliver knelt. He touched the mans dirty cheek, stroked it gently, and said, “Hello, Papa.”
Their father clutched his hand, pressing it to his face, and sobbed.
Who did he see then? Perhaps that little boy with wide eyes, clutching his leg years ago, crying, “Papa, dont go!”
His sons were men now. And he owed them everything.
Alfie kept raging. Their father stayed silent, knowing he deserved it. But what shattered him wasnt Alfies furyit was Olivers quiet kindness. Not a single reproach.
“Fine. Lets go, Oliverour trains leaving,” Alfie said, tugging at him.
“Im staying. You go ahead,” Oliver said, standing.
“What? Youd choose this wretch over me? Have you lost your mind?” Alfie snarled.
Oliver lifted their father into his armslight, thin, but with strong hands from dragging himself along.
Alfie gaped. The crowd murmured. Their father clung to Olivers neck.
For a moment, everything froze. Then Alfie cursed and stormed off.
“Son… forgive me. My legs… I nearly froze that winter. I tried to come back, but… I drifted. Lost. Leave me, Oliver. I dont deserve this,” their father whispered.
“I forgave you long ago, Papa. But I wont leave you here,” Oliver said. “Lets get you clean. Ill check you overIm a doctor now. Remember how we used to play? Youd drive my toy animals, and Id be the vet. That old hippo with the spoon thermometer?”
He carried his father toward the exita strong, handsome man holding the man whod abandoned him. Some shook their heads. Others admired him.
The boy whod healed toy animals had grown into a good man. And despite everything, he still loved his father.
