it. No way. I’m not going to be a part of this , he told himself. If Dad’s got a screw loose, it’s not going to happen to me.
“You won’t listen,” Dad said—not accusingly, just sadly. Truthfully. “And you know something? One of those crying voices was the voice of Governor Hiram Slater.”
Well, it makes sense , John thought. We’re genetically similar, we’ve both been under stress. I get the same allergies he does too.
“Funny that we could be so much the same and so different, isn’t it?” Dad said, allowing himself to chuckle, even through his tears. “You know, son, you and I were having this same conversation some twenty years ago, except you were sitting in my place and I was sitting in yours. What was it you were doing at the university? Taking over the Administration Building for three days until the cops finally broke in and hauled you and all your fellow saviors of the world out of there?”
John smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I remember that.”
Dad shook his head. “I was so frustrated with you . . . and embarrassed.”
That’s one for you, Dad. “Guess the shoe’s on the other foot now, huh?”
“Yeah, son, I guess it is.”
“So there you go. You’ve been through it with me. You know how it feels.”
Dad nodded a strong nod. “I know.” Then he smiled. “And I guess it gives me a ray of hope, knowing we’re so much alike.”
No, Dad, we’re not alike , John thought.
“It’s just so sad that you and I can’t be devoted to the same things, that we can’t see eye to eye. It would be so wonderful to be able to tell you things and talk about things, I mean, just open up and lay it all on the table and both look at it and come to the same conclusion. Son . . . I can remember when it used to be that way, and I think it can be that way again.”
No, Dad, that’s not likely. John stole a glance at the clock on the wall. He had to be at the station by 1.
Suddenly, with a new resolve, Dad turned to face his son head-on, leaned over the desk, and spoke so directly that John cringed. “Well, son, all right, you’ve had your say. So now I’ll have mine, and don’t worry, I’ll be finished in time for you to get to work.
“You know what? I’ve got plenty of things I’d love to share with you right now. Right now. I’ve got things I’ve learned today, just this morning, that I’m busting to share with you . . .” His hand went to the desk drawer where he’d stowed the cassette player, but then he drew it back, having second thoughts. “But I can’t. I can’t because so far, son, you and the Truth have a real problem with each other.”
“Now, Dad . . .”
The elder Barrett waved him off. “No, no, now you listen. It’s my turn, so you just listen. One of these days, son, I’m going to give you what I have, every bit of it, but not until you’re ready to receive it. Right now I’m over a barrel. I’m not politically correct, I don’t have anyone to appear on camera, and I can’t squeeze it into a minute and a half.”
Maybe he does know television , John thought.
“No, but I know you, and you mark my words, son, or at least file them somewhere in your brain until you’re ready to hear them.” Dad stopped so he could slow down. “Son, the days ahead are going to be difficult for you. I want you to know that ahead of time. The Truth is coming after you, son, and it’s going to sink its claws into you and not let go until you start paying attention. There’s something you need to keep in mind about the Truth, John. Depending on where you stand, the Truth can be your best friend or your worst enemy. So let me tellyou something. I mean, if I never get the chance to say anything else to you, at least let me say this: Make friends with the Truth, John, as quickly as you can.” Dad looked at the clock. “All right, I did that in just a minute and a half.”
Dad sat back in his chair, finished.
John assumed he had the floor again. “Okay, Dad. Message
“You won’t listen,” Dad said—not accusingly, just sadly. Truthfully. “And you know something? One of those crying voices was the voice of Governor Hiram Slater.”
Well, it makes sense , John thought. We’re genetically similar, we’ve both been under stress. I get the same allergies he does too.
“Funny that we could be so much the same and so different, isn’t it?” Dad said, allowing himself to chuckle, even through his tears. “You know, son, you and I were having this same conversation some twenty years ago, except you were sitting in my place and I was sitting in yours. What was it you were doing at the university? Taking over the Administration Building for three days until the cops finally broke in and hauled you and all your fellow saviors of the world out of there?”
John smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I remember that.”
Dad shook his head. “I was so frustrated with you . . . and embarrassed.”
That’s one for you, Dad. “Guess the shoe’s on the other foot now, huh?”
“Yeah, son, I guess it is.”
“So there you go. You’ve been through it with me. You know how it feels.”
Dad nodded a strong nod. “I know.” Then he smiled. “And I guess it gives me a ray of hope, knowing we’re so much alike.”
No, Dad, we’re not alike , John thought.
“It’s just so sad that you and I can’t be devoted to the same things, that we can’t see eye to eye. It would be so wonderful to be able to tell you things and talk about things, I mean, just open up and lay it all on the table and both look at it and come to the same conclusion. Son . . . I can remember when it used to be that way, and I think it can be that way again.”
No, Dad, that’s not likely. John stole a glance at the clock on the wall. He had to be at the station by 1.
Suddenly, with a new resolve, Dad turned to face his son head-on, leaned over the desk, and spoke so directly that John cringed. “Well, son, all right, you’ve had your say. So now I’ll have mine, and don’t worry, I’ll be finished in time for you to get to work.
“You know what? I’ve got plenty of things I’d love to share with you right now. Right now. I’ve got things I’ve learned today, just this morning, that I’m busting to share with you . . .” His hand went to the desk drawer where he’d stowed the cassette player, but then he drew it back, having second thoughts. “But I can’t. I can’t because so far, son, you and the Truth have a real problem with each other.”
“Now, Dad . . .”
The elder Barrett waved him off. “No, no, now you listen. It’s my turn, so you just listen. One of these days, son, I’m going to give you what I have, every bit of it, but not until you’re ready to receive it. Right now I’m over a barrel. I’m not politically correct, I don’t have anyone to appear on camera, and I can’t squeeze it into a minute and a half.”
Maybe he does know television , John thought.
“No, but I know you, and you mark my words, son, or at least file them somewhere in your brain until you’re ready to hear them.” Dad stopped so he could slow down. “Son, the days ahead are going to be difficult for you. I want you to know that ahead of time. The Truth is coming after you, son, and it’s going to sink its claws into you and not let go until you start paying attention. There’s something you need to keep in mind about the Truth, John. Depending on where you stand, the Truth can be your best friend or your worst enemy. So let me tellyou something. I mean, if I never get the chance to say anything else to you, at least let me say this: Make friends with the Truth, John, as quickly as you can.” Dad looked at the clock. “All right, I did that in just a minute and a half.”
Dad sat back in his chair, finished.
John assumed he had the floor again. “Okay, Dad. Message
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