His father had taught him to live by powerful principles. He had been taught to be strong and to be the best in whatever he did.
He had just been stretched too much.
Such had also been the fate of his older brother; the only difference had been that his brother had really not been strong enough inside.
“Daryn Keith Michaels” – he read his brother’s gravestone. No epitaph. Nothing else other than a few numbers indicating the two dates.
Dates which don’t god damn matter anymore.
In his hand was a letter he hadn’t yet opened, a letter addressed to him by a ‘Robert C. Michaels”.
Elesmera sighed inwardly as she finished reading the letter. She had only met her father-in-law once and had disliked him very much. She had never said so to her husband.
There is enough hate for his father, she had thought, without me increasing it. She was a rebel, a fighter herself, although she never showed it. But she knew that her father-in-law had grown old and if ever her husband wanted to reconcile, it would surely be too late.
“I need you here, my boy, I need you by my side. Please write to me…” – lines like such formed the end of the letter which was neither short, nor long. Very typical of Robert C. Michaels.
“He says he needs you, love. He needs his son”
“Yes, just like I needed a father, El. Like Daryn needed one.”
“He wants to get past it…he is reaching out to you this time. Don’t refuse his hand.”
He sighed. His wife moved to the chair on which he sat and took his face in her hands.
“At least write to him”, she said.
He looked into her dark brown eyes and at last nodded. “I will”
Robert C. Michaels dragged his body down the corridor with the help of his walking stick. He smiled. Of course he is going to come back, they always do, he thought proudly. You just have to know how to work them.
In his hand was a letter he hadn’t yet opened, a letter addressed to him by a ‘Gavin S. Michaels’. It was short.
“To Robert C. Michaels,
I am no prodigal son.”