Static Connection

Finally, some peace.

He walked on the bridge which connected the busy roads of the city to a small piece of extended land upon the sea. According to all the fancy bridal magazines, it was considered to be the ideal spot to conduct a wedding ceremony due to its exquisite lawns but that was not why he was headed there. He left his house a half hour before and followed the scent of the sea… it brought back so many memories.

A sound. He stopped in his tracks and turned back to look for its cause but nobody was there. He was safe; there would be no one to disturb him from his reverie at almost 2 a.m.

He stuffed his hands in his pant pockets to protect them from the freezing cold and resumed walking. He matched the rhythm of his footsteps to the crashing of the waves against the bridge but he was too lost in his own thoughts to actually notice this. Suddenly, he heard a sound which didn’t fall in with the melodic pattern around him - a crunching of something beneath his right foot. He bent down to look at what he had stepped on and found a bouquet of white roses, which although, were a bit worse for the wear, hadn’t completely withered away yet. Someone must have dropped it only a few hours before. He brought it to his face and closed his eyes.

A faint scent of baby breath.

He looked ahead and it struck him for the first time that he was almost near the end of the bridge; just a couple of meters distanced him from a huge wrought iron gate which led to the lawns. He jerked up and looked around and really saw his surroundings for the first time. He brought his hand to his face to feel the drops of the waves that had landed there.

Reminds me of those years when dad used to take me fishing with him… it’s been quite some time since our last trip.

It had, in fact, been eight years since they had gone for this father-son bonding ritual. The most prominent part about the memory, which still seemed to cause a knot to rise in his chest, was the disappointing look his father got in his eyes for a split second when he, his own son, wasn’t able to catch a fish. He had never really been athletic and his father would always push him at some sport or the other in the hope that he would excel at something.But, then again, his father always told him to keep on trying and he said he would always love him, no matter what.

All of a sudden, he moved ahead with the bouquet still in his hand and in a few strides, he reached the gate. He pushed it forward and entered. There was a group of men packing up tables, chairs and a huge white tent.

A wedding… but it’s over now.

They left their work to glance up at him but he seemed harmless enough so they didn’t give him much thought and went back to work. He cast his eyes in all directions and when his searching gaze found what it was looking for, he strode ahead. As soon as he reached the altar, he clutched its pole and took in a huge breath.

I can do this… He won’t hate me. Please, don’t hate me.

With this hope residing in his heart, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number. It started ringing. His grasp on the bouquet became harder and harder. The call was picked up on the fifth ring.

‘Hello? Is everything alright?’

‘Yeah, dad. I just wanted to talk to you about something.’

‘What’s wrong? Are you fine?’

‘I’m okay. Dad… do you remember how you used to tell me that you would always love me and be proud of me, no matter what happened?’

‘Yes, son, I do.’

‘Dad, I need to tell you something… I hope you will still love me.’

‘What happened, son?’

‘Dad… I’m… I’m gay, dad. I'm in love with Tom.’

‘I can’t hear you. Your voice is breaking up. What did you say?’

‘Dad? I said I’m gay… hello? Can you hear me? Dad?’

‘I can’t understand what you’re saying… Hello? I can’t hear-’

‘Dad?’

The connection cut and the call ended.