aroceu's ficWhen Pat was five, his dad had taught him how to swim. His mom hadn’t been the biggest fan, but Pat knew the rule by now – what his father wanted was usually what the rest of them got. It made sense though, because his dad was so confident, and smart, and right.
“It’s just as easy as this,” his dad used to tell him, paddling his hands in the water as Pat held onto the edge and tried to mimic the movement. It wasn’t easy when he didn’t have anyone to hold him steady – but then, Pat had to hold himself steady, didn’t he?
“No,” his dad said, “like this,” and repeated it again and again until by some miracle Pat did it. “There you go! There’s my brilliant son!”
Pat lived for moments like this – that he was his dad’s favorite and was the only person he ever had to impress. His dad knew he was well-liked and talented and expected more, because he knew Pat was capable of more. Pat wanted to meet his expectations. And for a long time, he wanted to surpass them.
He wouldn’t ever forget that day – when Paa was crying in the water, and Pat was frozen in shock. It wasn’t him but Pran who came to the rescue, who helped Paa out of the water, who soothed her and told her it was going to be okay. Pat was supposed to be her dependable big brother – but in that moment he felt like nothing but a huge idiot who had to have the dumb boy next door come to his rescue.
He told Paa they wouldn’t tell their parents, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want Paa to get in trouble. It was because he didn’t want to see the look on his dad’s face, his voice when he would say to Pat, Didn’t I teach you how to swim? Pat ran through the scenarios a million times in his head, hearing his dad say different things – Since when do you let the boy next door outdo you? Why couldn’t you react sooner? Did I raise a failure? No, Pat vowed to himself, at all of twelve years old. He was taking this to the grave.
Several years later he would plead to his dad, “I had to hate Pran because of you?” barely able to see past his own tears, feeling like he was drowning. But he had it right when he was five – his dad was never going to be the one to hold him steady. He couldn’t depend on his dad for help, he had to depend on himself.
And maybe the boy next door, too.