CHAPTER 73: Interlude: Lucas (Con’t)

The next day when the retired soldiers showed up for the middle hunting session, they didn’t have a single gun among them. Instead, Buck and Lute had bows and things that could be considered short swords. Everyone else had some manner of large, bladed weapon or one- and two-handed clubs. The numbers above their heads indicated they had assigned their levels, and it was clear to Lucas that they were moving easier and with more strength and smoothness than before leveling.

Hank’s complexion looked worlds better and his perpetually glassy eyes looked clear for the first time that Lucas could remember. Church was barely favoring his right leg and easily handled his own pack and gear.

There was still a seriousness to the group, but they at least greeted Lucas and Ed this time, showing a lighter attitude than the previous day. Except for Lucas’s father. His pops still just watched Lucas with a scowl and a glare.

That day they went to a place with mutated coyotes. The group was eager to try out their new weapons. They used formations that were listed in the packet, making adjustments due to not having any shield users or mages. Cuts and injuries were almost relished by the men, comparing the scars after they got Ed to heal them.

Lucas had to step in often due to their over zealousness, but they would always get more serious and then make adjustments in one way or another.

That day ended with at least half the men giving Lucas a handshake and either thanking him, or saluting him with a “Sir,” like some superior officer. Except for his father. The man stared him in the eyes with his scowl, then turned and walked away.

The third day was even lighter as he could see decades of resentfulness toward people and society softening as their bodies no longer ailed them and a new purpose had been realized with vigor. Ending the session had been difficult for Lucas as they wanted to continue the hunt, though he had to get back for his third session of the day.

As Lucas and Ed parted with the men, they all said their farewells with a salute and handshake. Several outright hugged Ed while the rest teased him like a fresh recruit. They offered to take him drinking, or to find him a woman for a night. Lucas had to pull Ed away from them since Ed’s strength stat was barely above the level 7 [Warriors] that were harassing him. Their enthusiasm saw their levels rising faster than any of the other groups that Lucas had seen. Yet still his pops just scowled and left.

When the evening came, and Lucas was ready to go up to Adam’s place, that was when his father showed up with the box. The man checked out the condo. He made his not quite disparaging comments. He watched the people outside from the window. Then he finally turned to Lucas.

“The boys were impressed with your leadership and demeanor. They still haven’t met this General of yours, but they trust you and would like to join your unit for the upcoming war. I ain’t seen them this alive since Kuwait,” the man said. There was no inflection to show whether he agreed or disagreed with “the boys.”

“We’d need a few rangers and more healers, but I’m sure we can discuss it,” Lucas answered neutrally.

“Here’s the stuff you left in the room. Your trophies and such. I thought you should have them.”

“Thanks.” Lucas could tell that there was something more, but he wasn’t sure what. His pops was fidgeting in a way he had never seen. Usually this was where his dad would begin telling him everything he had done wrong and what he needed to change.

“Listen, son, I wanted you to have this picture.”

Pops opened his wallet and pulled out an old, folded photo. It had clearly seen a lot of use as it was tattered along the fold lines. Lucas had never seen it before, but he remembered when it was from.

The picture was of pops holding him by the back of his shirt collar when he was eight with a harsh look on his face. He was glaring at his pops with red rimmed eyes, ready to fight the world. It was after a boxing tournament that he should have won but instead had been disqualified after the final match.

The tournament had been so unfair and had made him furious. He had cried more than a little after it. If anything, Lucas remembered that as a turning point, where boxing stopped being about competing and had become a desire to just beat down all his opponents.

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That tournament had been typical, especially for his age group. No kid that age is strong enough to knock out their opponents, even Lucas who had been strong and big for his age. The tournament had been easy with Lucas following the advice of his coach and pops.

Then in the final match, Lucas had punched the boy across from him on the side of the jaw and the boy ran from him. Instead of fighting the kid got scared. Apparently, he had won all his matches with technical punches, gaining points, instead of dropping anyone to the ground. He didn’t seem able to deal with a brawler like Lucas. Lucas was too young to really understand, and he had been taught that toughness was all that mattered.

After Lucas had pursued him and threw punches until the boy was on the floor crying, he had backed off as the ref instructed. The parents and coach of the boy had rushed the ring even though the ref hadn’t called a foul and the round hadn’t ended.

The boy’s father physically attacked Lucas while throwing insults and curses. Lucas could only defend himself against the middle-aged officer worker, finally knowing the difference in strength between adults and kids. Lucas might have been strong for an 8-year-old, but he was nothing compared to even an out of shape adult.

The boy’s parents forced the local officials to disqualify Lucas, who was new to the area, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong. He then developed a chip on his shoulder. If the boxing he had been raised with wasn’t enough to make other people tougher, while punishing him for being tough, then he would just beat his opponents until they understood.

That mindset had led to a constant switching of gyms and coaches, as no one really wanted the conflict caused by such a violent kid. Sure, gyms and coaches wanted winners, but not when the winner was just as happy to see an opponent broken with no regard to sportsmanship.

Lucas looked at the picture offered to him. He had never even seen a picture with both his father and himself in it.

“Why do you have that picture?” Lucas asked. His pop’s hands shook as they held the picture out. Lucas didn’t take it.

“This was the night I was the proudest of you. I discovered this picture back then from a tournament official and kept it.”

“But you were furious with me, pops. You didn’t speak to me all night, jerking me wherever you wanted me to go. Then you went out and didn’t come home for two days. I’ve never heard you even talk about it since,” Lucas said, confused.

“Is that how it seemed?” his pops asked with shamed, down turned eyes. He set the picture in the box. “I wasn’t angry with you at all. You showed toughness and grit. You won the tournament and did it the right way. Even when they stole it from you there was still a strength in you. No, I was furious with them.”

Then his father admitted something he had never heard before. “I wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how. Instead, I went out and found the official that disqualified you and beat him bloody. Then went to the house of that kid and beat his dad for touching you. Threatened to beat him more if he didn’t hand over the trophy. Cops showed up before I got it and threw me in jail. Mick had to post bail for me to get out. Took quite a while to pay off the fine for that night. I was the one who got you kicked out of that boxing gym, and when we moved it was because I wanted you to start fresh in a place I hadn’t screwed up for you.”

The man’s whole body was shaking. A normal man would have shed tears, but his pops just looked away from Lucas and out the window.

“I really tried hard to give you what you needed and teach you right, but I didn’t quite get you there. I’m glad to see it wasn’t a waste though, as you’ve found your feet and are doing something good working with that General boy. You’ve earned this place and I’m glad to see you made it here.”

Lucas looked at the man. There wasn’t an apology, or an admittance of fault. Just statements with facts. That was more than Lucas would have ever expected. He didn’t begrudge this man. After his mom left when he was a little kid, Lucas would have expected his dad to put him into foster care. Or find someone to pawn him off to. But the man had worked hard for his sake, never giving up or giving in to booze or drugs like other men that Lucas had seen.

“Pops. I’ve learned something running with Adam and his friends. Something that you and your boys got wrong. It isn’t about what you’ve earned. It’s simply about who you’re with. I’m only here because Adam brought me along and everyone else accepted me. I might be strong now but it’s due to Adam’s strength that I made it to this point. Its fine to accept from others so long as you earn it later on.”

His pops stopped shaking. He stood a little straighter and then turned, looking in Lucas’s eyes. There was a determination in them. A focus that Lucas had rarely seen.

“Maybe you’re right, son,” his father mulled over the thought. “Is your offer of a place around here still good?”

“Sure, pops. Adam puts a priority on family.”

“Family, huh? Think you can swing a place with room for some uncles?”

“Yeah, pops. I’ll make sure you and your boys will be able to move in tomorrow.”

His father nodded at him and put a hand on Lucas’s shoulder. It was the most affectionate gesture he had ever made towards Lucas.

“Make sure it’s a simple place. Several steps down from this one of yours. As you said, we’ll accept the place from you and earn the trappings ourselves.”

“Anything else, pops?” Lucas asked as the man headed towards the door.

“Yeah, son. You’ve done good.”