James was the average man of his age; he grew up in a poor family with five siblings, got conscripted into Vietnam where he made friends and lost some too, then came home to a family of his own. Unlike his parents, though, he decided to have just one child- he saw both how much his parents struggled and how little affection they showed with such massive time constraints. Supporting that many children is no simple task, and comes with sacrifice. The six of them returned the favor later in life, visiting and helping take care of their parents until old age took them from this world.
Now, James is seventy-two; wisps of grey hairs poke out of his head like fading memories. His life is dull, his back and hips are worn out to the point he can't garden for long or fire a rifle properly anymore. Old age takes a lot of what you once loved from you, including the people around you. Three siblings lost, and a wife that passed too soon...
But his son is enough to make it all worth it. The light of his life; the sum of his existence. The culmination of years spent nurting, like a sapling sprouting into a thick, strong Oak tree.
James lazily flipped through channels on the TV, earning grumpy shouts of refute from the other elderly people sitting in the rec room with him.
"Keep the damn channel still, you're going to give me vertigo."
He shushed her. "Quiet, Doris. My son might be on TV again and I need to find him."
Channel 5 was the jackpot.
"Breaking news, brought to you live: during an armed heist of the local Bank of America, one man took down five burglars single-handed. It's unlike anything we've ever seen before- no hostages were harmed, and the money has been returned safely. We'll keep you updated as time goes by."
The helicopter camera panned out over a crowd of bystanders cheering and police taking the robbers into custody. Just barely, as James scooted forward and squinted, he could see his son waving to the crowd.
"See, Doris! That's my Kevin! I told you he'd be on TV again!" The old man lit up like a Christmas tree on a dark, December night.
"That's not even impressive. Frank, I want to watch the cooking shows. Change it back already."
His smile faded and his mouth twisted. "What the fuck am I doing in this place? I'm not Frank. Here, Doris, watch your cooking shows."
He changed the channel, went back to his room and put proper clothes on. How long has it been? A year, maybe more? Two years? I can't wait any longer. I need to see my baby boy again.
Rifling through his closet, there was a carton of old love letters from his late wife. He looked at them and smiled, but underneath them was a .22 pistol that no one had caught during his entry inspection. He slipped it under his belt and walked up to the front desk. "Melissa, I'm gonna go for a walk today."
She smiled and waved her hand, buzzing the door open. He pretended to follow his usual path, hobbling on his cane, then deviated and slipped through an opening in the brush out back. He made his way to a gas station.
"Give me your money. Just a few dollars is fine," James shouted weakly, gun trembling in the air.
The cashier was calm for the situation. "Sir, put the gun down. Let me help you, okay? What do you need?"
James' voice began to crack. "Please, give me some money and call the police."
"Sir, j-"
"DO IT," he screamed, firing a shot to the right of him. Glass rained down with bits of cardboard and broken cigarettes. The man lifted his arms up and obliged, then handed him a hundred dollar bill.
James sat down outside the building and waited for about five minutes, staring at the clouds go by. Soon enough, his son arrived, like he always did.
"My son! I knew the city's superhero would make it here to save the day."
Kevin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dad, I'm not a superhero. I always tell you, I'm just a cop who does his job well. Come on, why'd you go and do something this drastic? Where'd you get the gun? Someone could've really been hurt, Dad."
James looked down, answering meekly. "I wanted to see you again. It's been several years now, you're always so busy."
Kevin took a deep breath as his father began to cry. "Come on, let's take you back to Glowing Meadows."
James lit up again, the hope of a younger man glinting in his eyes. "Can we play checkers?"
Kevin put an arm around his father, helping him into the car. "Yeah, we can play checkers. Just get in the car while I explain this to my supervisor, okay?"
"Sure thing, Kev, my man. I can't wait for you to tell me all about your job, and your love life. You need to get married and give me grandchildren!"
"Yeah, Dad. We'll talk all about it when we get back."
He shut the cruiser door and walked up to his superior officer. "Sorry, chief. My-"
"I heard the whole thing, son. You don't visit your father? I oughtta put you in jail. Respect is something the elderly earn."
Kevin' gaze shifted to the dirt, and he began to tremble a little. His voice was low and weak, barely audible.
"I just visited him three days ago, sir."