The First Fifty

Chapter 2

6 - 10

The next morning after one of Brian’s famous breakfasts, the Kinney-Taylor family assembled again in the living room to continue looking through Joan’s album. Bree had been interested in the contents of the album, but now that she was more wide awake she was even more curious about all the things that had to do with her Dada.

“Is that you, Dada?” Bree asked as she pointed to a picture of a little boy wearing what Bree knew to be a soccer jersey.

“Yeah,” Brian said with a little smile.

“How old are you?”

“I started soccer when I was in first grade, so I’m probably six or seven.”

“I started even sooner,” Bree said proudly.

“And you’re going to be even better than Pop,” Gus said with a wink for Justin.

“Dada has trophies at university,” Bree reminded her brother.

“You will too, Squirt,” Brian said.

Bree threw her arms around her Dada’s neck and kissed his cheek. “I want to be just like you, Dada,” she said with all sincerity.

“Well,” Brian replied slowly, “maybe you can be … in the trophy department.”

*****

Six year old Brian Kinney trapped the soccer ball between his feet. He started advancing up the field scanning what lay ahead. Brian had taken to soccer like a fish to water. His coach said he had a natural feel for the game. Brian knew he was able to figure out where the ball should go. In the few games he had played so far he had scored five goals, more than anybody else by a country mile. 

Brian caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The other team only had one player that was much good and he was heading for Brian, no doubt with the intention of stripping him of the ball. Brian did not intend to let that happen.

Picking up speed, Brian headed towards the opponent’s goal. He knew the game was almost over and nobody had been able to score in the whole time they played. Every time Brian got the ball, the opposing coach sent their best player after him, and so far that kid had been able to stop him. But not this time, Brian thought.

Running as fast as he could, Brian felt the cool air passing around him. He loved the feeling of freedom as he ran. That was why he loved soccer. He could run and he could kick and he could handle the ball. It was all so easy. He didn’t even think about the hours of practice in the backyard that he put in, running around manipulating a soccer ball with his feet.

Brian could see the opposing player coming towards him. The angle the kid had taken would cut Brian off from the goal. The kid was smart. Brian had to give him that. Brian knew there was a slim chance that he could probably get past the other team’s best player and score a goal. He knew he was the best player on his team. He thought it was worth a shot. 

He pushed himself to run a little faster, advancing the ball skillfully as he moved along. The other boy was heading for him at full steam. He wondered if the boy was going to run him down. That would be a penalty, but it would also mean that Brian wouldn’t get to score. Sizing up the situation with his keen mind, Brian made a decision. He kept running as the boy advanced towards him. At the last second, he kicked the ball to Tommy who was in the middle of the field all by himself. Just in time, Brian deked left and the boy charging at him hit the ground with a jolt. Better the ground, than my legs, Brian thought. 

Brian left the boy eating grass and turned his attention back to the ball. Tommy seemed almost stunned that the ball had come to him. The net was practically empty as the goalie had moved to the side where Brian had been coming up the field. With a good strong kick, Tommy sent the ball into the middle of the net just before the ref blew the whistle and the game was over.

“We won!” Tommy yelled at the top of his lungs. He raced across the field towards Brian and launched himself into the taller boy’s arms. They both tumbled to the ground laughing and crowing in victory. They were soon mobbed by the rest of the team who fell on top of them all laughing and whooping it up.

Brian felt like a million dollars. This had to be the best day of his life. When the whole team finally got up from the ground, the coach congratulated them and had them shake hands with the losing team. 

When all that was accomplished, Brian ran over to his parents and Claire who had finally come to one of his soccer games. Usually it was just Joan, and often she merely arrived in time to take him home. Sometimes he walked home alone.

“Did you see me?” Brian asked happily. “I set up the winning goal.”

“You should have scored it,” Jack griped. “You could have beat that other kid.”

“But…” Brian started.

“I don’t know why you want to play this sissy game. You should be learning baseball or basketball or football – a man’s game,” Jack informed his son. He turned on his heel and headed for the car with Claire hot on his heels.

“You did good, Brian,” Joan said squeezing his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Brian said dejectedly as they too followed Jack.

*****

There’s just so much looking through old pictures that one can take, especially when one’s best friend had just come over to spend the day. Bree and Ashley squealed with delight as if they hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

“Dada, can me and Ashley play in the Wendy House?”

“Bree, it’s freezing,” Brian protested.

“PLLEEEZZZZ,” two sweet faces begged.

“You know if you guys catch pneumonia, Ashley’s mom is going to beat me with a stick.” Brian scowled trying to look menacing.

“And I’ll do even worse,” Justin said as he came in from the porch. Susanna giggled, watching the drama play out.

“But we can bundle up and you can light the fire!” Bree stated with her hands on her hip.

“Oh I can, can I?”

“Yes, Dada, cause you don’t want me and Ashley to catch ‘amonia.’”

“I think you’re outnumbered, Bri,” Justin conceded.

“Ladies, let’s compromise,” Brian said as he pulled out a chair and sat so he could be eye level with the little con-artists. “I will go out to light the fireplace, you will wait about ten minutes to let the Wendy House warm up then you may stay out there for only two hours. By then the fire will be going out and it’ll start to get cold. Do we have a deal?”

Ashley and Bree appeared to be considering the proposal.

“Okay, Dada!” Bree said with a smile that lit up the house. Ashley was wearing a matching one. The girls ran to plan their itinerary while Brian went to go get the gel cans for the fireplace.

“He’s a big softie, isn’t he?” Susanna commented to Justin who was making a fresh pot of coffee. Having nowhere important to go, Susanna accepted Justin’s invitation to hang out while the girls played.

“Where the girls are concerned? Yes, but only to a point. John added insulation to the play house so that it could be used most of the year. And the gel fire does warm it up. But Brian would never let them play out there when it’s really cold.”

“Bree probably wouldn’t ask,” Susanna said. “She’s smarter than that. Besides, it’s not that cold out. Two hours will be more than enough,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “Mmm, this is good.”

“Brian’s own blend,” Justin told her.

“Got enough for me?” Brian asked as he came back into the kitchen.

“Always,” Justin said with a peck to Brian’s lips then poured a mugful for his spouse. “Is the fire going?”

“Yeah, the cans lit instantly. It’ll warm up quick.”

“Can we go out, Dada?” Two heads popped back into the kitchen.

“Go on,” Brian said with a royal wave.

“YAY!” the girls cheered then hurried to get their coats.

“WALK!” three parental units commanded in an attempt to ward off the stampede.

“We will!” came the reply and they heard the sun porch door open then shut.

“That’s that,” Brian said. “Justin, I have some calls to make. I’ll be in the office.” Justin nodded as Brian topped off his mug then went upstairs.

“What is this?” Gus asked out loud to no one in particular.

“Looks like a first place award for a spelling contest,” Susanna said as she glanced at the album. “Who won it?” 

Gus gave Susanna a brief explanation about the album.

They gently flipped through more pages to see the many awards and certificates Joan had preserved.

“You come by your brains honestly,” Justin said softly as he gave Gus a peck on the head. Then he led Susanna into the porch leaving Gus alone with the album.

***** 

“So my kid’s got brains,” Jack teased as he waved the blue ribbon around in the air. He laughed as Claire scowled at her brother. They were sitting in the living room watching “Happy Days.”

“You just had to let him find it,” Claire hissed.

“I didn’t let him,” Brian swore. “He found it in my room,” he whispered.

Joan knew that Jack liked to search through Brian’s room but was helpless to prevent it. Jack said he had every right to go through Brian’s things since he bought everything that Brian owned. Joan thought that it was time Brian had a little privacy but Jack wasn’t buying it.

Jack rolled the ribbon up then threw it in the trash.

“If the kid likes words so much he should spend his time reading those technical manuals I got for him. Spelling is for faggots,” Jack sneered. “He’ll need a real job when he grows up, a real job like his old man,” Jack pronounced loudly as he grabbed his coat then went out.

Brian got up and went to his room while Claire ogled The Fonz. Unbeknownst to her, Joan quietly took the crumpled ribbon out of the trash, smoothed it out then carefully put it in her pocket.

***** 

“Pop, did you and your dad ever get along?” Gus asked.

Brian’s brow wrinkled. “Not very often,” he admitted.

“But there must have been…”

“Yeah, there were a few times,” Brian said with a faraway look in his eye.

“Tell me,” Gus requested.

Brian swallowed hard. Sometimes it was harder to think about the good times than it was to think about the more frequent bad ones. The bad ones didn’t hurt as much as all the chances Brian and Jack had managed to squander.

*****

“Okay, Brian, hold the ball like this,” Jack said positioning Brian’s fingers in the large bowling ball. 

“Like this?”

“Yes, that’s good. Now line up the ball with the center pin. You’re aiming just slightly to the right of that pin.”

“I’ll try,” Brian said uncertainly. Nine year old Brian Kinney was kind of enjoying his first foray into bowling with his father. He knew Jack went bowling every Wednesday night. He usually came home smelling of liquor. He was jovial if he had bowled well, nasty if he didn’t. 

Brian was happy to have been brought to the bowling alley with his father on this Saturday afternoon. And without Claire. That was even better. Apparently Jack’s bowling league was going to have a father/son bowling night, and Jack didn’t want Brian to disgrace him. Hence, the bowling lesson.

“Okay, son, line it up, bring your arm back and let it go as smoothly as you can.”

“Okay,” Brian said uncertainly.

Brian did his best to follow his father’s instructions. He swung the heavy ball back, took his steps, the number he had watched his father take, swung his arm through and released the ball. As soon as it left his hand, he knew it was going too far left. He felt a heavy weight in his chest. His father was going to be disappointed in him once again.

Brian watched dejectedly as the ball kept heading left. It hit the pins on the left side of the group, but one of them spun to the right and knocked over a couple more pins. Four remained standing.

Feeling tears well up behind his eyes at his failure to get a strike, Brian swallowed hard. He turned to meet Jack’s wrath at his failure.

“Way to go, Brian!” Jack said clapping him on the back.

“Huh? But I didn’t get a strike,” Brian said in bewilderment.

“No, but you knocked down six pins. You get another ball to try to knock down the rest. If you do, you get what’s called a spare. That’s really good for the first time you’ve thrown a bowling ball. Most kids throw gutter balls. Believe me, I’ve seen enough of them around the alley all these years.”

“So … I did good?”

“You sure did. Now, you do have a real hook to your throw, that’s why it went left. That’s something we’ll have to correct as time goes on, but I think you could be real good at this game.”

“Wow!” Brian said. It wasn’t often his father praised him for something. “But what if I don’t knock the rest of the pins down?” Brian asked.

“You still get a point for every pin down. Let’s see if we can line up this shot so that the rest of the pins go.”

“Okay … Dad,” Brian said happily as he picked up his ball that had just returned down the channel.

Jack helped him line up the shot. He managed to knock out three more of the pins, but the one on the far right rocked back and forth, and then refused to fall. Brian was disappointed.

“You’ll get it next time,” Jack said encouragingly. “Let’s work on that hook of yours.”

They spent the next hour with Brian throwing ball after ball. He only had four gutter balls out of all the ones he threw. His father seemed really happy about that. Jack did his best to instruct Brian on angles and how to get positioned to throw the ball with the best results. For the first time Brian realized that this was an activity that his father loved. It was also something that he and his father could do together. Those types of things were very few and far between.

After the long practice, Brian felt his arm tiring. He threw a gutter ball, more dropping the ball than throwing it. 

Jack came up to him. “You getting tired?” he asked.

Brian didn’t want to admit it, but he reluctantly nodded his head. He wasn’t sure he could even lift another bowling ball.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Jack said. “You did really well, Brian, much better than I expected.”

“Thanks,” Brian said with a smile.

“We still have a couple of weeks before the father/son thing. Want to practice again next Saturday?”

“Sure,” Brian happily replied.

“That’s my boy!”

Brian felt his heart fill with love for his father. This was what he always wanted – for his father to be proud of him. He knew he would work really hard at bowling. He wanted his father to be proud of him at the father/son tournament.

“What do ya say...” Jack began, “let’s get a couple of burgers at the counter. You can tell me about how you’re doing in that soccer of yours.”

“Sure, Dad,” Brian said happily. This had to be the best day of his life.

*****

Dinner at Edna’s Treasures was usually a family affair and tonight was no different. While Justin was the primary chef for the night, there were many helpers. Ashley and Susanna were invited to stay so it was well into the night when Gus got the chance to continue his journey into his father’s past.

“Hey, Pop, what’s this?” Gus pointed to the certificate in the album.

“That’s called a moving up certificate. My school gave it to the students at the end of the school year. It meant that you were promoted. It was no big deal, everyone got one.”

“I think it’s nice. My school didn’t do that.”

“We started the same tradition at Kinnetik, when the kids ‘graduate’ from our pre-school and go to kindergarten. I think the kids get a kick out of it.”

“I bet the parents do too. You’re a cool dad,” Gus said as he smiled at his father. Brian smiled back. He was glad that he had his son’s respect. It was important to him.

For most of Brian’s life, he held little respect for his family. When given the opportunity, Brian would escape at every chance. It pleased him that he finally got to know his mother and sister.

“Dad, do you know why Jack, um, was the way he was?” Gus asked with trepidation. He didn’t feel it was right to call Jack, grandfather. Jack was barely a father.

“I do now. Back then, I had no clue. He was just a bitter old man who I happened to share DNA with. It was when I got to know Claire Anderson that it dawned on me why Jack was so angry.”

Gus looked at his father with expectation, hoping Brian would elaborate. Gus wasn’t sure if he was brave enough to ask.

“Jack let the love of his life get away. He made the biggest mistake of his entire life by leaving Claire. But if he hadn’t then I wouldn’t have you,” Brian said in all honesty and with a lump in his throat. Brian could bitch and moan about all the what ifs in his life but when it came down to it, if Jack hadn’t left Claire none of Brian’s life would have existed.

Brian pulled his son into his arms and tried desperately in vain not to cry like a baby. A few tears slipped down his face. 

“Oh Daaad!” Brian heard the muffled whine from his chest. Brian then gave his son a nuggie, making them both laugh hard as Gus struggled to get free.

“When are you going to New York?” Brian asked as he released his son, ending the torture.

“I was thinking of getting there for New Year’s,” Gus said when he caught his breath. “But I kinda want to hang around here for a little longer then spend more time with Mom and JR.”

“Your mother would like that,” Brian said. The unspoken, ‘so would I’ hung in the air. “Would Ray be very disappointed?”

“No, he’s very understanding.” So was Gus.

Brian stood up then stretched. “I need my beauty sleep. You kids are exhausting,” he griped, winking at Gus.

“Oh yeah, we’re exhausting, all right,” Gus teased. He knew his father needed Justin’s healing touch. “Good night, Pop.”

“Good night, Sonny Boy,” Brian said as he went to bed.

*****

“Good night, Dad,” Brian said when they finally got home from the bowling alley. It wasn’t that late but Brian was tired and his body sore from throwing the heavy bowling ball all afternoon.

“Good night, Sonny Boy,” Jack replied as he ruffled his son’s hair.

It was one of the few good memories Brian ever had of his father.