by AS Lewis
He had forgotten how to be gentle. He had always been bigger than those around him. Even as a child, Oscar’s lanky form would tower over his classmates until the unwieldy limbs tripped him up and brought him crashing to the ground, a felled giant. But as he grew, he had learned gentleness.
But the world doesn’t nurture gentleness.
So, he had become rough. None of this had been a problem until he became a father.
Until his boy fell back with a cry of pain.
Ozzy had met him in the backyard, vibrating with unspent energy. On the soft palette of verdant grass Oscar roared. Ozzy stepped back and lifted an empty paper towel roll menacingly.
“I’m not scared of you, dragon!”
GRRRRR!
And then…
Both are trapped in that single moment in time, petrified from each other’s stare. Oscar does not know what his son sees, but before his own eyes he sees himself swinging a heavy arm towards the boy, a block that sends the child flying to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Oz. I’m really sorry. Can I see your arm?”
A bitter swell of remorse rises in Oscar’s throat like bile. How had he forgotten? He’s so much taller than an eight year old boy, so much stronger, so much rougher. How had he forgotten how easily small bodies could be hurt?
“Does it hurt much?”
“Jus’ a little.”
“Let’s put some ice on this, okay. It’ll feel better.” His voice is as calloused as his hands. His forgetfulness extends to more than just his muscles. When he speaks again, he tries to add more cotton and less stone.
“I really am sorry. I promise, I,”
“A shield.”
“I… what?”
“A shield. I need that to fight a dragon.”
Oscar looks into his son’s eyes searching for a trace of anger, of fear, of memory in the warm, brown depths, but there was none. Small hurts are forgotten so easily in the young. Even when delivered by large hands.
Memory is a fickle thing.
Oscar had forgotten how to be gentle, but somehow he finds it easy to be soft as he pulls Ozzy’s tiny frame to his chest. It flows into him like water, slipping between his cells and back into his body filling the gaps and holes as if it never left. Ozzy will be fine. He has already forgotten.
But Oscar remembers.