Don't Worry, I'll Catch You
My first piece of fiction on Substack—a vignette about parenthood, promises, and disillusionment
I'm stopped at a red light somewhere along a path I've driven so many times I’ve forgotten where it is, when I look out my passenger window and see a little boy standing on a wall at the edge of a park. The boy is looking down at his daddy and he's crying, begging his daddy to help him down. The daddy shields his eyes from the sun with one hand and waves the boy down with the other. But the boy doesn’t move, doesn’t try to get down. He only cries and asks his daddy to fix it, to get him down. The daddy waves the boy down again and tells the boy to jump down and the boy shakes his head and the daddy keeps on waving as he pleads with his son again.
Jump down, I can hear the daddy say even though I can't hear him at all. I'll catch you.
The boy looks into his daddy's eyes and shakes his head again.
I'll catch you, the daddy tells the boy. I promise.
The boy stares into his daddy's eyes again, but he doesn't shake his head this time. He squats and looks back to his daddy for the repeated promise that it’ll all be all right, that it’ll all work out in the end. The daddy moves the hand blocking his eyes from the relentless sun and he reaches both arms toward the boy. The boy stays frozen in his squat and the daddy tells him Jump—jump, I'll catch you. The boy breathes in deep and his chest nearly doubles in size and he screams and he drops from the wall, into his daddy's arms and the daddy swoops the boy into a hug and they both laugh. The boy rests his face against his daddy's and the daddy whispers into his son's ear I’ll always be there to catch you. From my car I can see the boy's wide smile. He's safe and secure in the comfort of paternal promises.
How long until the boy realizes his daddy has made a promise that he can’t keep? How long until the son has to accept one of life's greatest disappointments? That’s a problem for another day. Not today. Not here, not now.
The driver behind me lays on the horn. The traffic light has turned green and the cars in front of me have gone through. I make it through the light, but the car behind me gets stuck at the light again and a left hand with an extended middle finger bolts out the window and rages at me. I wave back in the rearview. I'm not sure the act makes my mistake any better, but it's the only response I can think of. I drive on and my gaze flashes between the road ahead and the park in the rearview, as the father and son fade away hand in hand.
The title of this vignette was inspired by the song ‘I’ll Catch You’ by The Get Up Kids.
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