Percival
Futures
Long hours and hard, ungrateful work. That's what Percival thought of
his job. Though now, during his many, many hours, all he could think about was
Cherry. He never knew her that well, but last night had given him a great
insight on her life. She was not a snob. She was not at all what she could have
been. She was nice. She was shy like he always figured when he saw her at
school. He talked with her about everything and nothing. They had long, silent
moments without it being awkward. She looked at him in a way no one had ever
looked at him before. It was as if she had reached him. He walked around like a
zombie, just doing his job. Yet another pile of paper had to go into folders
and then to the archive. He had a list of books to get at the administration.
His father had a meeting with a bunch of Chinese people later, and he had to
make sure all the right folders were in the conference room before five. He
also had a lunch break somewhere in between these things. Percival had a lot to
do, but the only thing he actually did, was thinking about Cherry.
He had all kinds of plans. Plans for the future. Plans to go somewhere.
Maybe. Somewhere. Sometime. He wanted to have his own firm. Maybe. Somewhere.
Sometime. He wanted to build a career of his own, and be successful. Maybe.
Somewhere. Sometime. Percival was not really sure what to do. Who is, really,
so young? But he had one plan, one that he wouldn't ever toss away: he never
wanted to be exactly like his father. He has always been told he was a dead
ringer for his old man. 'You're going to be just like him', people used
to say. People may think it's a great compliment, but the never saw it like
that. He didn't want to be a father who was never home. Someone who just build
a family, only to leave it behind and be the one to bring home the bacon. He
wanted to build a family and be there for them. Yes, he wanted a career, but he
didn't want it to become between his family. Family is important. That is a
lesson he never learned from his own family. He had talked to people with
normal families and heard how their morning went. Nothing like how he could
come down to the kitchen and his father was at work. He could come home and his
father wouldn't be there to eat dinner with them. Sometimes, his mother weren't
there as well. They all had stuff to do, that was the explanation he usually
got. So when Zia left, she took everything with her. Zia was more of a parent
than their parents were for them. She had taken care of his problems; she had
helped him if something was wrong. She took the responsibility their parents
never took. He was used to ask Zia 'what do I do?’ She left him in a
hole. A hole with only being alone, being left in a family who never were there
for each other. Alone. How could he tell Zia that he was drowning
because she left him?
He also knew that because Zia left, he learned everything the hard way.
It was like being re-schooled, getting to know everything you already knew,
just getting to know it like other people did. They didn't have Zia as a
shield. People had protectors, but Zia was special.
Help me, save me Zia. Come home and save me from this
horrible world. Be my shield and be my guide. Teach me all there is to know,
teach me everything I don't need to be taught. Sing in your room at night and
put me at ease, whether you know it or not. Help me Zia, come home.
Please.
