“Look whos finally decided to show up!” shouted Derek Wilson. “You might as well turn right back around!”
“Dad, whats gotten into you?” Andrew replied, stunned. “I havent been home in twenty years, and this is the welcome I get?”
“If I had my way, Id give you a thrashing youd never forget!” Derek growled, gripping his belt. “No matterwell settle this now!”
“Hold on a minute,” Andrew said, stepping back. “Im not a child anymoreI can fight back if I have to!”
“Typical of you!” Derek snapped, still holding the belt. “Bullying the weak, running from the strong, deceiving the good, and serving the wicked!”
“Whats this really about? What are you accusing me of?” Andrew shrugged. “Even if I was guilty of something, twenty years have passed! Shouldnt it be water under the bridge by now?”
“Easy for you to say when its your fault!” Derek shot back. “Of course youd want everyone to forgive you! Well, I wont!”
“But what exactly did I do to you? I spent years wondering why you and Mum branded me a traitor, why you forbid me from coming homewhy you never answered my letters!”
“You mean you honestly dont know?” Derek sneered.
Andrew shook his head, baffled. Before he could press further, the commotion drew his mother, Margaret, into the room.
“God help me!” she cried. “Troubles come knocking! Chase him off, Derekshame on him for darkening our door!”
Andrew froze in shock. His mother wasnt done.
“If I had the strength, Id beat you senseless! But I see fates already marked you!” She pointed to the bruise under his eye.
“Someone landed a good hit!” Derek smirked. “Id shake their hand!”
“Mum, Dadwhats wrong with you?” Andrew shouted. “Have you lost your minds? Ive been gone twenty years! What kind of welcome is this?”
“Who gave you that shiner?” Derek demanded. “Well toss you out now, but Ill thank them later!”
“How should I know?” Andrew snapped. “I took the coach home! A neighbor, Peter, recognized memade a fuss. Then some bloke jumped me at the stop, punched me, spat in my face, and ran off before I could react!”
“A true hero!” Derek chuckled. “Ill ask Peter who it was.”
“Thats all you care about?” Andrew said, exasperated. “Not that Ive been gone two decades?”
“Why would we want a traitor like you back?” Margaret cut in.
“Traitor? Since when?”
“Because you are!” a third voice called from the kitchen.
“And whos this brave soul?” Andrew turned as a younger man stepped forward.
“Thats the one who gave me this!” Andrew pointed at the bruise.
“Well done, lad!” Derek grinned. “Seized the moment!”
“What do you mean, ‘lad’?” Andrew recoiled.
“This is your son!” Margaret stepped between them. “The one you abandoned!”
“I dont have a son!” Andrew snapped. “And if I did, Id know!”
“Then remind uswhy did you flee the village twenty years ago?” Dereks voice cracked with emotion.
***
Andrew never considered his departure an escape. It was plannedjust moved up. He had reasons.
First, he was heading far awayclear across the countryto study. He left early to find work before term started. His stipend wouldnt cover much, and asking his parents for money was out of the question. They could only send food, not cash.
Second, trouble was brewing in the village. Had he stayed another fortnight, he might never have left. Marriage offers poured in. Andrew wanted none of it.
“Because,” hed say, “Im meant for the sea. Leaving a wife behind while I sail? Thats no life. I wont be that kind of man.”
The sea found him by chance. After school, hed served in the navy. One year taught him land wasnt his home. He returned with papers for maritime collegeready to become an engineer.
Before studies began, he lived recklessly, like any young sailor on leave. But he kept his wits. While others tied themselves to wives and farms, Andrew stayed free.
His resolve made him a prize for village girls. Respectable, ambitious, untethered. He dodged their advances until it became unbearable.
So he left early.
“Better safe than sorry,” he thought.
He arrived, found dock work, rented a dorm bed, enrolled, and wrote home: *Alls well.*
Their reply? Fury. No explanationjust curses. *Traitor. Coward. Never come back.*
Confused, Andrew kept writing. No replies came. By graduation, one note arrived:
*”Drown yourself. Traitor. Coward.”*
Signed *Derek and Margaret Wilson*not *Mum and Dad*.
He stopped waiting. Signed onto a ship. Returned to port twice a year, sent letters no one read.
At forty, he needed answers.
This “welcome” wasnt what he expected.
“So I ran,” Andrew mocked. “To stop you marrying me off! Did you think I didnt see the deals you made with half the village?”
“We wanted you matched well!” Margaret spat. “Instead, you got some orphan with child and vanished!”
“Who? When?”
“Natasha came a month after you left,” Derek said. “Said she was carrying your boy. Youd written her to get rid of it!”
“Funny,” Andrew said. “I never got a letter. Call her herelets settle this.”
“Shes dead,” the young manStansaid. “Ten years now. Gran and Grandad raised me.”
“Brilliant,” Andrew muttered. “And my ‘son’ greeted me with a fist.”
“You deserved worse!” Stan yelled. “Abandoning Mum like that!”
“So youre all saints, and Im the villain?”
“A coward too!” Derek added. “Ran from responsibility!”
“Did you ever see this letter Natasha claimed I sent?”
“We believed her!” Margaret snapped.
“Then lets do a DNA test,” Andrew said. “If hes mine, crucify me.”
The test proved he wasnt.
“Clear now?” Andrew handed them the results. “Natasha knew. She played you.”
“But the real shame? You believed a stranger over your own son. Twenty years, no forgiveness. Well, I dont need yours now.”
He left. Stan stayed, milking their guilt till their last days, insisting the test was wrong, his mother a saint.
Like mother, like son.
The lesson? Blind trust breeds betrayalsometimes from those closest to you.
