Revolution

Revolution

By Scott Spence

Freddy stared out of the large living-room window at the trail of dust coming towards them, like a trail of exhaust from some rocket ship that would enter the atmosphere of their secluded world. Beside him was Ranger, his trusty German Shepherd dog and faithful companion with him constantly. They were to travel to a campsite with his grandfather and observe fireworks, roast Marshmallows, and maybe catch some fish at the nearby lake. For an eight-year-old, this would be a special event.

The pickup truck pulled into the driveway with a small camper trailer in tow behind it. Freddy and Ranger rushed out of the house and into the embrace of the young boy's grandfather.

"You have grown so much," said the grandfather. "Is your dad here?"

"He's inside still asleep," said Freddy. "He's going to party with his friends tonight, so he's getting more rest."

Freddy ran back to the camper in tow, opened the door and moved inside. The dog was right behind him. With a comment to the boy to not disturb any of the contents, the grandfather went inside the open door of the house in search of his son, Freddy's father. Finding him still asleep in bed, he rousted his son awake.

"Geez Pop, you scared me" his son said

"I'm here to pick up Freddy for the campout," the old man said.

"Well, just be careful. And thanks for watching him. I've got some friends to celebrate New Year's Eve over later and this helps me out."

The old man knew about these friends and how much alcohol would be consumed. These were his friends from work who would go and sell pints of their blood and then use the proceeds to buy liquor. Unfortunately, the old man had shared this trick with his son. The less blood you had in your system, the less alcohol it took to get wasted, sort of a win-win for the drinker.

The old man left the son who had already turned away and gone back to sleep. He moved outside to gather Freddy and Ranger for the trip to the lake.

"Are you and Ranger ready to go?" he asked.

"You bet," Freddy said.

It was unseasonably warm, with no signs of winter that other parts of the country experienced this time of year. He found a great spot at the lake, the perfect area for them to set-up the camper, try and catch some fish, and view fireworks over the lake. Freddy and Ranger jumped out of the truck as soon as it stopped. The old man set up the camper and retrieved the fishing poles. Crickets were brought for bait, remembering how squeamish his own son had been over putting a hook through worms. With bobbers and baited hooks attached, the lines were cast into the calm waters of the pretty little lake. Ranger was right between them as they looked out onto the bobbers, to watch for any movement towards the bait.

As the day progressed, the fish were few and their attempts to catch them proved futile. The sport became one of casting the line into the lake, with distance as the ultimate goal for the boy. Plans to make a small fire near the camper drew their attention, now, with hotdogs and roasted Marshmallows on the menu. Coat hangers for each of them were reshaped and the art of roasting was explained to the boy, with Ranger close-by to pick up any morsels thrown his way. Freddy would rather eat the Marshmallows unroasted, but enjoyed catching a few ablaze, watching them melt off of the wire and into the fire to shrivel into black ashes.

"How is your school?" the grandfather asked.

"O.K." Freddy said. "I don't have a lot of friends. Ranger is really the only friend I have."

"And how are things at home?"

"My dad parties too much," the boy said. "And he drinks all the time."

The grandfather reflected back to similar instances created with his own son, with any good memories erased by bad ones. His life at that time, was like being trapped in a hole of sand and every time you tried to get out, the walls would continue to fall in. Today, he's better. He turned toward his grandson and put his arm around his shoulders.

"I had a problem like your dad's, but I made a resolution one New Year's day to fix it."

"What is that?" the boy asked.

"A resolution is a promise you make to yourself to change something," he said.

They went into the camper after putting the fire out. The grandfather planned to wake Freddy when the fireworks exploded over the lake. The boy was gently nudged awake near midnight, then wrapped into blankets to find comfortable spots to watch the fireworks. The surface of the lake was like a giant mirror, reflections of showers of cascading sparks showered across the sky and over the flat, dark waters of the lake. It was beautiful.

Rising the next morning, the campsite was cleared and they returned to his son's house. As they pulled into the driveway, empty bottles and debris were everywhere. Inside was his son, slumped into a chair with an obvious black-eye. The grandfather directed Freddy outside to start picking up the bottles and place them into trash cans, before he had a chance to see his father's condition.

"What happened?" the old man said.

"My boss came over last night with his wife and I said something stupid to her. He took me outside and hit me, then told me I was fired and to move out of this place, since he was my landlord, too."

"Let's get you up and packed. You and Freddy can come live with me. You can work with me and paint houses, there's too much work for me to handle, anyway. In the old neighborhood, there are a lot of kids for Freddy to make friends with, but you will need to give up the alcohol, though," the grandfather said.

He stood up and shook the old man's hand, then hugged him, and moved outside to find Freddy. He knelt down beside his son and the dog.

"We are going to live with your grandfather. I will not drink anymore; I will become a better father for you, too" he said.

"Oh, Dad, you're making a revolution!" the boy said.

"Yes, that's right," he said chuckling. "I guess it is a revolution, and you and my dad will be there to help me fight it.".