Chalk & Cheese

[×|{å†ìe×]

My mother was frantic, running around like a madwoman. "Rodgey, what's your father going to think?" She began biting at her thumbnail, and continued to pace in front of me. I sat there uncomfortably, trying not to imagine.

"I dunno, Mum, there's nothing I can do now. Tilly hates me, so obviously marrying her is out of the question..."

"You can't just leave her with your baby!" she told me, flustered.

"From what I heard..." I hesitated, "She hasn't really decided whether or not she wants to keep it. I mean," I cleared my throat almost continuing but my mum understood.

"She can't... No," the speed of her pacing increased, "that's your baby too. You must have a say?"

"I'm not carrying the baby inside me for nine months. Besides, the fetus has half of my DNA, so the serum is going to effect her." I tried to look at it from Matilda's point of view too. However, there was no way I could just let her get rid of my future child without a fight. I heard my father's car pull into the driveway. Mum and I exchanged a look, "Can you tell him?"

"I'm sure he won't be too upset..."




He was upset. His face turned that purple-red colour I've always hated. I won't get into the details, he just pointed out how irresponsible I was. Especially when I told him about the serum. The scariest part was when he stared at me for a long while, I waited for laser beams to shoot through my head. Blimey, I wished laser beams would shoot through my head.

As I walked out of my childhood home that evening, instead of feeling ashamed or completely idiotic. I thought, There's a chance Rodger Fredrick Cooksley could soon be a father.

[×|{å†ìe×]

Months go by quickly when you're completely terrified but excited at the same time. I kept myself occupied with many things. Doing ministry assignments, clearing out a the spare room to fit a crib, attempting to read parenting books, and very rarely I would call Matilda just to check in. We had already agreed that the baby go with me. She wouldn't talk long, just tell me everything was fine. I hadn't brought up any name ideas, because I figured since she was giving birth, she could name it.



It was a boy. The first thing I felt was relief, I didn't know how I was going to raise a girl. His birth certificate read Cecil Linton Cooksley. In the first week with the baby I made many phone calls. Some to my parents, my friends and even a few to Tilly.

"What colour is his poo supposed to be?"

"Is it pronounced See-suhl or Seh-suhl?"

"Cecil's not really a baby name... Is there some sort of nickname I should call him?"

"He won't stop crying. Why won't he stop crying?"

It took time, but I got the hang of it. When work got in the way I would bring him to my parent's house, I didn't trust a daycare with my son. On days I had off we would hang out. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to talk to him. So, I talked to him like I would anyone else. I knew he didn't understand a word I was saying, but he recognized my voice.

It didn't seem like anytime at all passed, and he was already walking and talking back.

[×|{å†ìe×]

I tried raising Cecil just like any normal child, except it just didn't work that way. He was, in my knowledge, the only tyke to ever run madly threw the chrome halls of the MMC. It wasn't that I didn't have my folks to look after him. I just liked having him around. Everyone else seemed to also. By the age of five he knew everyone who worked there by name, and knew how they liked their coffee and donuts.

Sometimes he fetched people coffee and donuts, and other times he would be copying or scanning papers. From what I know, most children that age don't have the intelligence to work a copying machine. I wondered if that was considered child labor, but he didn't seem to mind.

It was a Friday morning and I was running late. Of course it was my turn to pick up the donuts that day. I stood there trying to order, the problem was this wasn't the shop our office normally got our donuts from. I just wanted to try something different. "Do you have any assorted boxes?"

"No," the acne ridden teenager replied.

"Fine, how about a dozen coconut ones..." I said, pointing to the coconut sprinkled ones.

"Mr. Murphy's allergic to coconut," Cecil pointed out, he was standing to my left. He almost reached my waist in height and his hair was a light blond colour just like his mother's. I hoped it stayed this colour, but my mom disagreed and said it would darken as he grew.

"Oh... right. Well, how about those berry filled ones?"

"Mrs. Fergrey doesn't like berries," he corrected me again.

"Then what should I get?" I asked, angry because I was running late.

"We should'n've even stopped here, I like the other place better... I don't see why we're even bothering to change," he gave me that 'You're a total idiot' expression, and folded his arms across his chest.

"Don't give me that..." I knew why he was mad. Last night he explained how he didn't want to go to school next week, he wondered why he had to. He didn't want any change, he liked the way things were now. I attempted to explain that he needed education for a job, he insisted he already had a job copying papers and getting coffee and donuts.

I sighed and told the kid to give us a dozen of the chocolate covered ones. Cecil didn't tell me anything further.


The next Monday evening I picked him up from school, cooked his favorite meal, and let him watch whatever cartoons he wanted. Apparently he had a bad day. "They made me take a nap," he grumbled.

"Well, isn't that what normal kinder gardeners do?"

"No. That's what babies do. They made me say my numbers and alphabet like I was stupid."

"Whose they?"

"The teacher and her helper..."

"What about the other kids, were they nice?"

"One of them peed their pants and another one cried for their mum. I don't like school."

"Did you make any friends?" I rephrased the question.

"A girl tried to be my friend," There was a second of hope, where I thought My son has his first friend, but that hope was shattered "but she was bossy so I told her I hoped goblins ate her."

"Oh..."

"Do I have to go back?"

"Yes."

The next day I told got a phone call from the teacher.

[×|{å†ìe×]

"Hello?" I answered. Work was slow today. It was almost a relief to have a phone call.

"Hello, is this Mr. Rodger Cooksley?..." It was Cecil's school. They explained that Cecil was having "Difficulties" and they wanted me to come pick him up. After the phone call I turned to my co-worker and told them if anyone noticed I was gone to tell them it had to do with Cecil. They understood Cecil was the only thing I had, that whatever had to do with Cecil I would pick over work.

On my way to the school I wondered what they meant by difficulties. Did it mean he was being bullied, or that he was being the bully? Did it mean he didn't understand the material and was too stupid to learn anything? Was he being rude to the teacher?

I parked and walked briskly into the school building. The place would've been a maze, if it weren't for the fact that I used to attend Watercrest Elementary when I was Cecil's age. When I turned the corner to the office, Cecil was sitting on a bench with a teacher. I couldn't tell from his expression how he felt. I met eyes with the teacher.

"Hello, Mr. Cooksley. I'm Mrs. Willow." She took my hand, shaking it quickly. Her eyes were a dull blue colour and her hair was plain brown.

"You can call me Rodger. What's the problem?"

"I think..." she looked back at Cecil, who was staring at the floor tiles. She took my arm and dragged me to a further corner. "I think," she continued quietly, "That Cecil's just a little homesick."

"Homesick? He's only been gone half the day..." I wrinkled my nose. I was expecting something worse than this. Why were we whispering?

"For a child his age that's a long time. Especially when you don't enjoy your environment."

"Yeah.. Well, I'll just take him home and talk to him," I shrugged.

"Okay," she nodded. Looking like she wanted to say something else, but said nothing further.



Cecil didn't talk the whole car ride home.

"What's wrong, kid?" I asked ruffling his hair while he took off his shoes. He didn't answer, instead he went and laid on the couch. I followed him, "Cecil," I spoke in my fatherly tone now, wanting to get some answers. "What's up?"

There was another pause before he spoke, "I'm mad at you." He turned away and faced the back of the couch.

"Why?" He didn't answer me again. He tucked himself further into the couch. "Cecil Linton Cooksley, answer me," I finally said.

"Daddy, I don't wanna go back to school," he rolled over, and now tears were falling. "Don't make me."

"School, isn't that bad. Its only twelve years of your life and then you're done."

"Twelve years?" he began to cry harder.

"You have to go. Its no use crying over it." I told him in a 'And that's final' tone. "I'm not picking you up next time, I have to work. Only call me if you're having actual problems. Okay?"

He nodded. I'm pretty sure that's when Cecil was convinced that he didn't have problems.

[×|{å†ìe×]

It was when Cecil had finally started secondary school when I decided to begin working away from home again. I'd missed the old days outside world missions. They made me feel a little like James Bond, and sort of young again. I stuck Cecil with his grandparents, which I felt guilty for, but they didn't seem to mind.

Some of the tasks I did were quite dangerous at times. Once I broke into a vampire's mansion and rescued some captured faeries. Of course I had back up, but it was still a life or death situation. There was when I met a creature I would not soon forget. This name was Theodore, he liked to be called Theo. Unlike the other faeries we saved, he had a rare item with him, an enchanted stone that allowed him to stay human when he wore it.

In exchange for a place to stay and some good food, he allowed the MMC to study the stone, which was actually in ring-form. I wasn't into the scientific part of magic, I only understood that it worked. So while the researchers and scientists did their work, I kept Theo entertained. He was young, barely older than Cecil, whom I missed too much. His phone calls weren't enough for me, so I used Theo as my replacement.

Theo was too funny. "Hey Rodge, when am I getting my ring back? Being this small is total crap. Besides I asked for a sandwich like three minutes ago and its still not here."

"I have no idea when they're gonna be done studying it. And be patient-- besides didn't you just eat?"

"Yeah, I did, but that doesn't mean they can just slack around on my sandwich." he complained.

"Would you like some cheese with that whine?" I asked sarcastically.

"No, I want some cheese with my sandwich though." Theo was no replacement Cecil, Theo was too funny. Sometimes I wished Cecil and I could joke around like this, we were just too different.

"What do you plan on doing after you get your ring back?" I wondered.

"Probably just bumming around," he shrugged. "Why?"

"I dunno, I was just wondering." I said, almost offering him to stay with Cecil and I, but backing out the last second. If Theo were to say yes, it would ruin Cecil's and I's relationship. "Do you go to school?"

"Sometimes.." he replied, "But I dunno, the teachers kinda rub off all the cool I have pulsating from me."

"School is a good idea." Was the advice I had left him with. I also told him that if he ever needed me, to contact an MMC and tell him Rodger Cooksley sent him. In the next few years I would get many phone calls and emails letting me know some green haired freaky faerie came to their MMC complaining about everything possible.

Everytime I came home from a work related trip, I found Cecil had grown some and become more distant from me.

[×|{å†ìe×]

Cecil wasn't a dumb kid, he did well on tests, but often didn't do his homework assignments. He'd do enough to where his teachers didn't notice him as a good or bad student. I think he liked to blend in with the crowd. I wish I hadn't left him alone so much while he was growing up. Then I wouldn't have missed his first girlfriend, his first date, his first broken bone. Maybe I wouldn't have found Cs and Ds on his report card, or cigarette buds in his room.

When I came home from work he didn't come and give me a hug or tell me how horrible his day was. He barely noted my existence. Was this really how normal teenagers acted?

"Wanna do something this weekend?" I asked him politely.

"No," he replied simply. Cecil was flipping channels absentmindedly, stretched across the couch. I assumed the only reason he was in the living room was because his room was disastrously messy and reeked. "I'm going," he announced sitting up.

"Wait, where?" I asked, trying to sound fatherly.

"I dunno. Out."

"Well, can I come? Maybe we can catch a movie." I was hopeful, maybe I could solve all his distantness with a night out together.

"I think I'm just gonna hang out with some friends." Friends? I didn't know he had friends.

"How come I've never gotten to met your friends?"

"What? I have to introduce my friends to my dad?" He asked skeptically.

"No.. Its just. You've never really talked about them. Maybe you're just making them up," I had to admit, the only reason I was keeping this conversation going was because it was the longest time I've talked to him or seen him in weeks.

"Okay, I don't have friends," he said sarcastically, "I'm just going out all by myself."

"I think we should do something together. I mean, you get to see your friends all the time, we never just hang out." The look he gave me reminded me of the look Matilda would give me when I said something ridiculously stupid. Sadly, it made me realize his hair was different, part of it fell into his eyes. The colour of his hair was now a dark caramel brown instead of blonde hair like he had as a child. He shook his head. Even though I was hurt a little by his attitude, it didn't stop my smile from forming when he walked away. I noticed his haircut hadn't cured the cowlick on the top of his head.