Parker's Bar has been servicing the neighborhood men for sixty years. In in his younger days Don would walk the 3 1/2 blocks there. These days he drove to most of the places he went, including Parker's.
The first thing he noticed, as he entered, was how well business was for a Wednesday night. He walked up to the bar and ordered an O'Doul's. Since giving up alcohol the faux beer gave him the taste that he still enjoyed, but without the after effects.
"Mr. B," Kevin Parker said as he greeted Don with a firm handshake. Kevin has been running the bar ever since his father passed on, ten years ago.
"Business is good tonight," Don observed to him.
"Can't complain," he answered as they exchanged a few other customary greetings.
"Another double for the guy in the corner," the waitress said, interrupting them.
Kevin fixed the drink and handed it to the waitress. When she walked away Kevin leaned on the bar counter and said to Don, "Hey listen, there's this guy sitting in the corner booth, over there," he said, gesturing to his left. "A few of us were talking and we were wondering..., is that your son, Johnny?"
Don turned for the first time to see where his son was sitting. "Yea, that's him, but I think he prefers to be called Jack, these days."
"Well I'll be damned. How long has it been since he's been back here?"
"A few years," Don answered. He really didn't want to get too personal with the barkeeper and tell him that he hadn't spoken to his son in over twenty-five years.
"I was going to say something to him, but when you've been doing this as long as I have, you get to know who wants to talk and who wants to be left alone." Then Kevin asked, "You here to take him home?"
"Does he need to go home?" Don asked.
"No, he's fine," Kevin assured him. "I was thinking about cutting him off, but we saw that he walked here and he isn't bothering anyone. If a guy wants to get drunk who am I to say no?"
As Kevin was called to fill more drink orders, Don picked up his beer and headed for Jack's table. He sat down without asking to be invited. Jack had been staring at a knot in the tabletop. He was trying very hard to think about CIA business and not his past.
When he saw his father's beer, he said to him, "I thought you said you didn't drink anymore."
"This is an O'Doul's. Same beer taste, but without the hangover." Then he added, "by the looks of you, boy, your going to have quite a hangover in the morning."
"For god sakes, I'm 53 years old. I think it's time to stop calling me a boy. Or don't you think I'm manly enough for you?"
Don shook his head. "Why do always assume...."
Before he had a chance to say anything more, two men walked up to the table to say hello. Even though they were clearly in their 60's they still addressed Don as Mr. Bristow. "You remember us? Paul Faust and Sammy Acker."
"Well of course I do," Don said as he offered the two men a handshake. "The two of you and Sean were like the Three Musketeers."
"Yea, we sure were, and then there was Johnny always trying to be D'Artagnan." Paul offered his hand to Jack and said, "How you doing, Johnny."
Jack's reply to him was, "The name's Jack."
Paul quickly pulled his hand back and said, "Good to see you again, Jack."
Jack's reply was to take another drink of his scotch.
"So how've you been?" Don asked in an attempt to glaze over Jack's rudeness.
Paul and Sammy gave an update on the status of their children and grandchildren. Then they started to reminisce about Sean and their teenage adventures. When they started this Jack got up and head for the men's room.
When he left Paul and Sammy apologized for intruding. Don assured them that Jack's mood had nothing to do with them.
When Jack returned to the table the two men were gone. The waitress came by and he ordered another drink.
"So tell me...Jack," Don said, using the name his son said he prefers to be called, "what happened in your life that made you such an angry man?"
"Why do you care?" Jack replied curtly.
Don shook his head and not hiding his frustration he tried to convince his son that he cared. "I know you think I cared more for Sean than I did for you, but your wrong. I loved both my boys equally. It's just that you never made it easy for a man to talk to you. Kind of like just now. Why did you have to be like that? They were Sean's best friends. There was no call for you to act that way."
"They used Sean." Jack answered, without hiding his resentment. "They were like bloodsuckers; they thrived off his popularity."
"I seem to recall that you clung to him quit a bit yourself." Don reminded him.
"When the hell were you ever around to notice anything?" Jack said trying to keep his voice under control. "If you weren't at work you were down here where you didn't have to deal with any of us."
"You mean with your mother, don't you?" Don always believed that Jack blamed him for how things turned out with his mother. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You blame me for how she was."
"I blame you for not getting her the help she needed," Jack told him bitterly.
Don shook his head. "That's not true...Jack. I use to beg her to go to a doctor. She wouldn't go. She had an obsessive fear of being locked up. That's what she would accuse me of. She would say that I just wanted her to go to a to doctor so that they would lock her up in an insane asylum."
"They wouldn't have done that. They had Lithium back then, they just would have put her on that and she would have been fine."
"You think it would have been that easy, do you?" Don leaned forward, "I went and talked to doctors about her. Do you know what they wanted to do? They wanted to give her electric shock treatments."
Don assumed the startled look on Jack's face was due to the fact that Don had tried to seek medical attention for his wife. "That's right. Did you ever see anyone get electric shock treatments?"
Jack sat up and his spine stiffened. Don continued, "Well, I did. I saw them do it to one of my men when I was in the army. He had a breakdown in the field and some masochistic psychiatrist thought he could bring him out of it with electric shock."
Don watched Jack's eyes glaze over. "I watched as they strap this poor helpless kid to a table so that he couldn't move his arms or legs. Then they glued wires all over him and shot volts of electricity through his body until he screamed out in pain. Then they would stop."
Beads of perspiration formed on Jack's forehead as his father continued with his description of the procedure. "Yea, they stopped. They stopped long enough to recharge the machine and shock him all over again."
Don continued with his story, as he heard Jack breathe rapidly. "That's what they wanted to do to your mother. I was not about to let them do that to her."
Jack's mind was reliving his own experience with electric shock. He didn't realize that his father had stopped talking until he touched his hand and asked, "are you OK?"
Jack pulled his hand away and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and forehead, with a napkin. "I'm fine," he said. He then closed his eyes as he tried to slow down his pulse rate and get his breathing under control.
He was just getting his bearings back when he heard his father say, in a defeated voice, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be the kind of father that you are."
"What do you mean by that?" he Jack asked nervously.
"It's obvious you and Sydney are close," Don remarked. "If I had it to live all over again, I'd want to raise you the same way you raised your daughter. I would like just once for you to look at me without contempt for what I did to you, or should I say for what I didn't do?"
All of a sudden Jack's head started to pound and he quietly told his father, "You don't know anything about my relationship with Sydney."
"I know she loves and respects you." Then looking down and staring at the same table knot that Jack had been observing earlier, he said soulfully, "I know to have your child's love and respect is all that a man needs to know his life wasn't a waste."
Just then the waitress came by and asked if they needed anything. "No, I had enough," Jack told her.
Don stood up and asked, "You ready to go home?"
Jack got up slowly and allowed his father to drive him home. On the way home he wondered if he had Sydney's love or respect. How could she love or respect him after all he had done to her and for all that he had failed to do for her?
The first thing he noticed, as he entered, was how well business was for a Wednesday night. He walked up to the bar and ordered an O'Doul's. Since giving up alcohol the faux beer gave him the taste that he still enjoyed, but without the after effects.
"Mr. B," Kevin Parker said as he greeted Don with a firm handshake. Kevin has been running the bar ever since his father passed on, ten years ago.
"Business is good tonight," Don observed to him.
"Can't complain," he answered as they exchanged a few other customary greetings.
"Another double for the guy in the corner," the waitress said, interrupting them.
Kevin fixed the drink and handed it to the waitress. When she walked away Kevin leaned on the bar counter and said to Don, "Hey listen, there's this guy sitting in the corner booth, over there," he said, gesturing to his left. "A few of us were talking and we were wondering..., is that your son, Johnny?"
Don turned for the first time to see where his son was sitting. "Yea, that's him, but I think he prefers to be called Jack, these days."
"Well I'll be damned. How long has it been since he's been back here?"
"A few years," Don answered. He really didn't want to get too personal with the barkeeper and tell him that he hadn't spoken to his son in over twenty-five years.
"I was going to say something to him, but when you've been doing this as long as I have, you get to know who wants to talk and who wants to be left alone." Then Kevin asked, "You here to take him home?"
"Does he need to go home?" Don asked.
"No, he's fine," Kevin assured him. "I was thinking about cutting him off, but we saw that he walked here and he isn't bothering anyone. If a guy wants to get drunk who am I to say no?"
As Kevin was called to fill more drink orders, Don picked up his beer and headed for Jack's table. He sat down without asking to be invited. Jack had been staring at a knot in the tabletop. He was trying very hard to think about CIA business and not his past.
When he saw his father's beer, he said to him, "I thought you said you didn't drink anymore."
"This is an O'Doul's. Same beer taste, but without the hangover." Then he added, "by the looks of you, boy, your going to have quite a hangover in the morning."
"For god sakes, I'm 53 years old. I think it's time to stop calling me a boy. Or don't you think I'm manly enough for you?"
Don shook his head. "Why do always assume...."
Before he had a chance to say anything more, two men walked up to the table to say hello. Even though they were clearly in their 60's they still addressed Don as Mr. Bristow. "You remember us? Paul Faust and Sammy Acker."
"Well of course I do," Don said as he offered the two men a handshake. "The two of you and Sean were like the Three Musketeers."
"Yea, we sure were, and then there was Johnny always trying to be D'Artagnan." Paul offered his hand to Jack and said, "How you doing, Johnny."
Jack's reply to him was, "The name's Jack."
Paul quickly pulled his hand back and said, "Good to see you again, Jack."
Jack's reply was to take another drink of his scotch.
"So how've you been?" Don asked in an attempt to glaze over Jack's rudeness.
Paul and Sammy gave an update on the status of their children and grandchildren. Then they started to reminisce about Sean and their teenage adventures. When they started this Jack got up and head for the men's room.
When he left Paul and Sammy apologized for intruding. Don assured them that Jack's mood had nothing to do with them.
When Jack returned to the table the two men were gone. The waitress came by and he ordered another drink.
"So tell me...Jack," Don said, using the name his son said he prefers to be called, "what happened in your life that made you such an angry man?"
"Why do you care?" Jack replied curtly.
Don shook his head and not hiding his frustration he tried to convince his son that he cared. "I know you think I cared more for Sean than I did for you, but your wrong. I loved both my boys equally. It's just that you never made it easy for a man to talk to you. Kind of like just now. Why did you have to be like that? They were Sean's best friends. There was no call for you to act that way."
"They used Sean." Jack answered, without hiding his resentment. "They were like bloodsuckers; they thrived off his popularity."
"I seem to recall that you clung to him quit a bit yourself." Don reminded him.
"When the hell were you ever around to notice anything?" Jack said trying to keep his voice under control. "If you weren't at work you were down here where you didn't have to deal with any of us."
"You mean with your mother, don't you?" Don always believed that Jack blamed him for how things turned out with his mother. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You blame me for how she was."
"I blame you for not getting her the help she needed," Jack told him bitterly.
Don shook his head. "That's not true...Jack. I use to beg her to go to a doctor. She wouldn't go. She had an obsessive fear of being locked up. That's what she would accuse me of. She would say that I just wanted her to go to a to doctor so that they would lock her up in an insane asylum."
"They wouldn't have done that. They had Lithium back then, they just would have put her on that and she would have been fine."
"You think it would have been that easy, do you?" Don leaned forward, "I went and talked to doctors about her. Do you know what they wanted to do? They wanted to give her electric shock treatments."
Don assumed the startled look on Jack's face was due to the fact that Don had tried to seek medical attention for his wife. "That's right. Did you ever see anyone get electric shock treatments?"
Jack sat up and his spine stiffened. Don continued, "Well, I did. I saw them do it to one of my men when I was in the army. He had a breakdown in the field and some masochistic psychiatrist thought he could bring him out of it with electric shock."
Don watched Jack's eyes glaze over. "I watched as they strap this poor helpless kid to a table so that he couldn't move his arms or legs. Then they glued wires all over him and shot volts of electricity through his body until he screamed out in pain. Then they would stop."
Beads of perspiration formed on Jack's forehead as his father continued with his description of the procedure. "Yea, they stopped. They stopped long enough to recharge the machine and shock him all over again."
Don continued with his story, as he heard Jack breathe rapidly. "That's what they wanted to do to your mother. I was not about to let them do that to her."
Jack's mind was reliving his own experience with electric shock. He didn't realize that his father had stopped talking until he touched his hand and asked, "are you OK?"
Jack pulled his hand away and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and forehead, with a napkin. "I'm fine," he said. He then closed his eyes as he tried to slow down his pulse rate and get his breathing under control.
He was just getting his bearings back when he heard his father say, in a defeated voice, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be the kind of father that you are."
"What do you mean by that?" he Jack asked nervously.
"It's obvious you and Sydney are close," Don remarked. "If I had it to live all over again, I'd want to raise you the same way you raised your daughter. I would like just once for you to look at me without contempt for what I did to you, or should I say for what I didn't do?"
All of a sudden Jack's head started to pound and he quietly told his father, "You don't know anything about my relationship with Sydney."
"I know she loves and respects you." Then looking down and staring at the same table knot that Jack had been observing earlier, he said soulfully, "I know to have your child's love and respect is all that a man needs to know his life wasn't a waste."
Just then the waitress came by and asked if they needed anything. "No, I had enough," Jack told her.
Don stood up and asked, "You ready to go home?"
Jack got up slowly and allowed his father to drive him home. On the way home he wondered if he had Sydney's love or respect. How could she love or respect him after all he had done to her and for all that he had failed to do for her?