"Dad! Look!"
Arthur is six years old. He is not a clever boy. He has spent the last twenty minutes constructing an alphabet puzzle. Mostly wrongly. When he does however finish the puzzle, with all the right pieces in the right place and everything, the first thing he wants to do is show his Dad.
His father barely glances at the completed alphabet before returning to his newspaper.
"Very good Arthur."
Arthur is too young to understand the boredom in his fathers voice.
Arthur has brought home a collage. He had looked at all the brilliant colours and shapes and fabrics and paints, and he had decided to use them all. The resulting optimistic presentation of his collage to his father is enough to make his mother wince. She knows how he will react. Her heart breaks for Arthur as all he says is "Yes Arthur… very nice." He leaves the room and Arthur runs into his mothers waiting arms. Arthur thinks maybe his collage wasn't as brilliant as he thought.
Arthur is 7 he first time his daddy shouts at him. Arthur isn't even sure what he had done to make him so angry. All he could see was the anger in his eyes.
Mummy makes Arthur wear a long sleeve shirt to school the next day, even though it's hot outside.
Arthur learns quickly not to bring things to his father. He learns quickly when to leave him alone. What is harder for him is learning that his dad really isn't a nice man. Arthur begins speaking less. Only when spoken to. Then he begins only answering in monosyllabic tones. Then mere nods and shakes of his head. Arthur stops speaking altogether. His father doesn't notice.
Arthur goes on being a normal boy. He is silent, and clumsy. In the year that Arthur stopped talking he broke three bones, used up countless boxes of plasters and came down with several variations of the common cold, giving him a perpetually runny nose. But being a hearty child Arthur continued his silent adventures unabated.
He has interests. He likes animals, and being outside. But nothing comes above wanting to work with his Dad.
Arthur wants to be a pilot.
In the times that his mother tried especially hard to get him to speak she would talk to him about planes. He wouldn't respond. But he would listen. He would warm her heart with the small, careful, smile he would have when she talked to him about planes.
The next time Arthur speak he wishes he hadn't.
He is nearly nine when he sees his father strike his mother for the first time. He had been sat in bed, small arms wrapped tightly around hunched up knees. The sound of angry murmurs leaking through the floorboards. He heard them getting louder and louder. He uncurled himself and padded quietly down the stairs and listened silently at the living room door.
They were arguing. Arguing about him. Mum's usually strong voice had become shaky. Arthur didn't want Mum to cry.
His father didn't like how much Mum babied him. He is shouting about how she should treat him like a boy should be treated. He didn't want any son of his growing up to be soft. To be a pansy. His mum is arguing hard, saying if you bothered to speak to your son, Gordon, maybe he would speak again!
It wasn't until he heard his father call him an idiot that he pressed the living room door open a crack. His father thought he was stupid.
He could see the room, see his mothers face, tear streaked, firming and growing angry, as she squared up to his father. Her voice became dangerously quiet.
"Well if he is you know where he gets it from-"
A tense silence is suddenly broken as his fathers palm swings across and makes contact with a sickening crack.
Arthur sees red and rushes into the room.
"Hey! Leave Mum alone you- you- you horrible man!"
His fathers eyes flash in his direction, and his mother moves to Arthur before he can take a single step.
"Come on Arthur, time for bed."
Arthur can see the nasty red mark on his mother's face, and the tears in her eyes. She takes him by the hand and leads him out of the room. She paused long enough to turn and say
"Gordon, you are a bastard."
The next morning Arthur wakes early. He comes downstairs to see his mum sat at the kitchen table. He stands next to her. His father has gone to work. He takes her hand and she looks up from her nearly empty cup.
"Do you want me to make some tea Mum?"
She smiles, and pulls him into a hug.
"Yes please Arthur."
Arthur doesn't ask why his father doesn't come home that night. He only wants his mummy to be happy. He's not bothered but what his father said. About him being an idiot. All Arthur wants to be when he grows up is a pilot. Over dinner he asks Mum how planes fly.