Chapter 11

I went to the bathroom as soon as I got home and checked how red my bottom was in the mirror. Since my bottom was so sore, I splashed a handful of tap water on each bum cheek and rubbed them softly. My bladder felt full after a while, so off I went to the toilet after leaving the bathroom. As I stood and urinated, I stared at the white tiles underneath my feet. I flushed the toilet afterwards and turned around. My feet stepped on a broken tile. Kneeling down, I pushed aside the broken tile and looked down at a small handgun hidden underneath it. I remembered seeing this gun before when I came to the toilet.

An idea flashed in my mind. What if I marched into Wayne's house with a gun and shot the old man before he tortured anyone? Neighbours might hear the gunshots, the police might arrest me, and I might spend the rest of my life in prison. But if Erika told the police about what she had been through, perhaps they'd let me go.

The gun was heavier than it looked. It was a small and shiny black revolver, probably never been fired before. I rested my fingers on the cold metallic barrel. I had seen guns on television before, and the people who used the guns didn't seem to have much trouble using them.

With the gun in my right hand, I walked out from the toilet and headed to the front door. But as I walked along the living room, my dad opened the front door and saw me. Dad was back from work. His eyes could not miss the black gun in my hands.

"I knew I should have hidden that gun somewhere else," said Dad. "Where do you plan to go with it? Who are you planning to kill?"

"Is this your gun?"

Dad nodded.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"She's still at work... won't be back till midnight."

"Why do you have a gun?"

Dad walked to the couch and rested his briefcase against the coffee table. "I have to protect the family."

"Why did you hide it?"

"I couldn't let your mother see or she'd freak out. As the man it is my duty to protect the family. In this society there are unspoken duties assigned to different groups. In the office, women always prepare coffee. In high school and college, boys always ask girls out. I'm just fulfilling my duty, a duty assigned to me because of my gender. For the sake of social order, it is important that throughout your life you follow the unspoken duties assigned to you."

I nodded slowly. Dad could see that I was a little confused. He held his palm out. Without using words, he was asking me if he could have his gun back. I surrendered the weapon immediately.

"Now that you're interested in guns," said Dad, "how about we go to the park together and shoot some birds?"

"I don't want to kill birds. Birds don't hurt anyone."

"Neither do cows but you eat Big Macs all the time. If you don't learn how to shoot, how are you going to protect yourself and your family when you grow up?" Dad picked me up and sat me on his lap. "Your mother won't know a thing since she's still at work. This is also a chance for us to do something together, as father and son. I know I haven't been spending enough time with you, Keith."

"It's okay. I don't need you, Dad. I'm fine by myself."

To my surprise, Dad seemed quite hurt by my comment.

"Oh, okay then," Dad said.

Dad and I arrived at the park an hour later. I felt bad telling him that I didn't need him, so through guilt I decided to spend some time with him.

I don't know why I told my dad I didn't need him. During the holidays when he stayed home, he never really did anything but sit on the couch and watch TV. I figured he'd be more useful at work so he could make money and buy me things. Maybe deep down I wanted my dad to treat me better, like how fathers treat their sons on TV. Maybe I told my dad I didn't need him to hurt and punish him for making me turn out the way I am today because I'm really not really happy with the way I am today.

The clouds started to darken. Small pins of water flew down. The wind carried the coldness of a nearby ocean to the park. Dad and I had thick jumpers, scarves, and beanies. Somewhere under Dad's thick clothing was the gun. Since it was so cold, the park was empty except for the ducks in the pond. Dad and I stood in the middle of a wide-open field and looked up into the swirling sky.

"Don't seem to be too many birds here," said Dad. "How 'bout I get you to shoot some ducks?"

I nodded. "Okay."

Dad handed me the gun as I looked at the ducks. One big white duck swam in the middle of the lake with about ten smaller ducks following it. The big duck must have been the mom while the smaller ducklings must've been the children.

"Try shooting that big duck over there," said Dad. "It's better for a beginner like you to start with big targets."

With the gun in my hands and my finger on the trigger, I straightened by arm and aimed carefully at the mother duck. It felt strange to hold something that gave me power over life.

Dad spoke. "Just pull the trigger, Keith."

"Will the police put me in jail if I kill it?"