"I know you'll do a good job," He said to me.
His eyes were a little different this time. I'm not really sure how to explain it. Whenever he looked at me, I felt as if he could read my mind, see my thoughts... it was intimidating and just a little scary. Today was different, though. He was looking at me like always, but instead of looking into my mind, I felt like he was looking right through me to the beach sprawled out behind me. It made me feel cold.
He said I'd do a good job. I don't think he'd ever told me I could do a good job. He taught me a lot, but he never told me I could do it. I wasn't sure if I could do it. I may have the knowledge but I don't have the experience. I've always just been an assistant -- carrying feed, shutting the gate, doing whatever needed to be done. I was just an observer. I knew I wouldn't be able to do this alone. I've always needed help. I've never been tough. Ever since I was a kid I've been weak.
I couldn't answer him; I had to turn away. Everything was about to fall apart, and there was no way I could stop it. I was pathetic. My eyes burned and I pressed my eyelids together to keep myself from crying. I noticed my fingernails pinching my palms as I clutched my fists tighter. This proved it. I was a wimp. I couldn't take care of anyone. I wanted to feel angry at him for leaving, but I couldn't feel anything but my own worthlessness.
"Rick," A hand was resting on my shoulder now. I felt it tremble ever so slightly. I slowly allowed my eyes to open.
How could his hand be shaking? Was he afraid, too? He was never afraid of anything. Could it be that he knew I was going to be a failure, and he was already becoming afraid? I turned back to him.
When I saw his eyes again, I realized why they looked different. It was my turn to look inside. I wasn't reading his mind, I wasn't peering into his thoughts. I was searching. And that's when I found his strength. And I realized when he was looking into my eyes, he was giving that strength to me. Now it's my turn to give it back.
"I can do it, dad." My voice rang proudly across the gentle waves.
"I-It's okay," Stammered my little sister from next to me as she stepped slowly toward our father, "because you'll be back right away."
Don't worry, Popuri. I thought to myself, It'll always be okay. I'll always protect you and mom. I'll take care of everything. I can do it. I know I can.