The Unbearable Sight

"If you can't see it it's not there.

Have you ever had that saying stuck in you're head, not a saying more of a statement. Those last words you exchange with the person, not the normal ones like bye or see you or have a good day, the other ones, the ones underneath. See those are the words that really count, there the words that make a difference, there the words that no one utters aloud, yet we all speak them. It has a lot to do with who you are, or maybe it's who the other person is.

Some people are more obvious then others, you can see it in their eyes; I could see it in his, but he was never that obvious to me. Maybe it's because of what he was saying, maybe he decided to finally let go… or maybe it was always just there and I had never bothered to hear it. It's called selective hearing, I do it a lot, I hear what I want to hear, or I make it so it's heard. The hearing I can deal with, it's the seeing that gets to me. It's not just a simple matter of closing you're eyes, because you still see it, you still see those words going past like one of those adds floating across you're screen, except these words you can't click off, they're preset. I call it the unbearable sight.

There were always words like, "Try harder," or "Don't give up," or "Stop throwing away you're youth." Those I was used to those I could deal with, I could shut off. Even when I was five and skinned my knee he was all about getting up and walking on, he forced me to get up and walk home, there was no carrying, what would be the point of that, it wouldn't teach the five year old anything. He didn't think that maybe I would have forgotten about it if he'd picked me up and carried me home, but at the back of my mind I may have seen him as a hero.

I could deal with all that though, the hearing was okay, I could deal, the actions I could pass it off, it was the seeing that got to me.

Eight, this time I was eight; I wanted that doctors set badly, you know those plastic ones with the white coat. It wasn't really the medical stuff that got to me, it was the shiny stethoscope I saw the doctors walk around with, the one they let you play with while they shined lights in you're ears, or when they poked needles into you're arms. Mum decided I would have a party, I didn't mind as long as only the kids I liked came I wasn't fussed, it was the medical set I was excited about. I had grabbed him and shown him, I had been talking about it all week, going over every little thing in it with love, especially that stethoscope. I wanted him to buy it, not mum, so it would remind me of him and it made me happy, which maybe would make the unhappy memories with him seem okay. He wasn't a bad guy, I guess there were a lot of happy memories with him, I just can't seem to remember them. See he was always away so when he was there each memory counted and the bad ones stuck. Unlike mum, there were so many memories with her that I could pick and choose them.

The party came along, I didn't invite kids from the base, I hadn't made any friends in the base, and they were all different from me. Instead I invited kids from my primary school, the one mum had persuaded him to send me to, it was private and it had kids like me, kids who understood things better, see she always understood me. He was always grumbling about it, he said that my primary school was giving me the wrong ideas, that I had to learn to deal with life and not learn how to think around it, but he hadn't taken me out, that was because of mum.

He came to the party, he had invited some of his friends, as had mum, I didn't really care about them, it was the kid that came along with one of his friends, he was a base kid.

The friend and he did that thing that parents do; you know talk about the kids while there forced to stand there, none of the kids had arrived yet so I was stuck with this one.

"There such tykes when there this age aren't they," the friend said, smiling.

He had nodded, "He gives me such trouble," he said. They talked about some of the things we had done, the base kid had once put on his father's uniform, I had refused to wear my school uniform , the base kid had broken his leg while doing a commando course he had set up himself, I had cut my hand by dismantling a clock to see how it worked, the base kid had gotten into a fight and punched another kid, I had ridden my bike for three blocks with no one realizing I was gone (I had decided to run away.)

Then my father had turned around to the kid, and asked him that fatal thing, what do you want to be when you grow up. Of course the perfect kid that he was he said he wanted to be just like his dad and be in the navy. Then it had gone the other way, the friend had asked me what I wanted to be, and I did it…. I just shrugged. I saw my fathers face fall and turn red with embarrassment. The friend had brushed it off and told us to go play. The base kid wanted to play commandos, I wanted to play baseball I was glad when the other kids arrived. We played musical chairs, and then we played some baseball, finally it was present opening time. I was so happy I was jumping up and down in my seat and then they came, mum got the camera ready, dad stood by and all the kids watched with awe as I opened the present from dad, ripping the wrapping paper. I didn't notice it was the wrong size, or shape or feel, which was why I was so disappointed when I opened it and, not a doctor set, but a commando set sat in front of me. I thought there was something wrong with that, I ripped the wrapping off all the other presents, mum had bought me a large baseball, there were other presents but that didn't matter the doctors set wasn't there. I just sat there and looked at all the other presents, the one thing I had wanted most in the world wasn't there.

"Wow," the stupid base kid said, "This is so cool, the gun even looks real. Aren't' you going to try the uniform on?"

I turned to him, I saw my father beaming with pleasure, expecting me to jump at the chance and be as excited as that kid. All my other friends were indifferent, there was nothing exciting here or what they really thought of as gold, it was cow boy and Indians all the way with them.

"If you like it so much why don't you have it," I snapped and shoved the stupid set into his hands.

"Greg," my father growled, his grin had disappeared like a light bulb turned off, his friend was looking shocked.

"I don't want it," I wailed, "I wanted a doctor set." My face turned red, I was filled with disappointment and candy and it made me feel sick, I began to sob. Mum quickly ran to me, hugged me, "It's okay Greg, this present is as fun as a doctor set, just try it."

"It doesn't have sefoscope," I wailed, "I mean a ste….I screwed up my face trying to remember the exact word, "Ste… ste…."

"Ste…tho….scope," my mother sounded it out for me.

I tried it, "Ste….stho….scope," then I smiled with pleasure, my tears forgotten with my achievement, my mother smiled back at me.

"Let's play chasey," one of the kids yelled. I quickly wriggled out of my mum's embrace and ran after them.

When the last kid had left my father had turned to me, disapproval on his face. "Why can't you just be happy with what you get, did you know that all Jimmy (that was the base kids) got for his birthday was a two dollar toy gun."

"I wanted the stethoscope," I said mulishly, once I had got the hang of the word it wasn't hard to say.

"Why can't you be like the other boys on the base Greg, why couldn't you just be excited with what you got?"

"I wanted the stethoscope," I said a bit louder now.

He picked up the commando set which was laying discarded on the floor, all the other presents had been used, except that one.

"What's wrong with this Greg," he almost yelled at me, "It's even better then the doctors set, you know some little boys would be so happy if they got this. It's expensive and it's a limited edition."

"Why don't you give it to those boys then and give me the doctor set," I pointed out, not being cheeky but just thinking I preferred that scenario.

"Go to you're room," he yelled, "Until you learn some respect don't come out."

"I don't want to be a navy officer I don't want to be shot at; I want to be a doctor with a stethoscope." I screamed at him angrily, meaningless words then, I never thought I would follow them through in the end, there was silence.

"Greg honey why don't you go to you're room," it was mum; she was standing in the doorway so silent until now. I ran to my room angry tears in my eyes, but maybe they were more then tears of anger. As I slumped on my bed I couldn't forget the look on his face, it was only till I got older and the look had become more frequent that I had realized what it was. It was disappointment and a lack of understanding, it had started from there and grew, he thought I was a coward and he pointed out how disappointed he was of me in every little detail of my life.

Mum had come to my room after that, she had the doctors set in her hands, it was wrapped and it said To Greg, Love from Dad. I didn't notice that it was in my mums writing I was so happy that I took it apart, examined every little thing, I grabbed the stethoscope and put it around my neck like the doctors did, put on the white coat. I ran to him before mum could stop me, I gave him a hug, he frowned. He told me it wasn't from him; it was from my mother, at her plaintive look he had simply said.

"He needs to know the truth."

I dislike it when people lie; I hate it when they straight away tell you the truth. He couldn't even lie, not even for me, not even for that. That's were I learned to hear selectively to play with people until they told me what I wanted to hear, that's why I love puzzles it's lies upon lies until you find the truth, but the truth next to the lies doesn't seem so wonderful in the end. That's why I hate him, there's no puzzle to him, just the unbearable truth, that truth that hurts because there's nothing fantastical before it to cover it up. I threw away the set, along with the commando one. I never wore a doctor's coat again, or wore a stethoscope; I never got one of my own. They just remind me of that day and that look which started it all.

See it's the seeing that gets to you, because when you see you have to hear the sounds being screamed at you, and when you hear you have to deal, and I can never deal, not with the truth.

He drew me out of school and sent me to the local school which all the base kids went to. He said I needed to make friends at the base, kids from backgrounds like mine. I didn't make any friends, I was unhappy and bored and all I did was begin to make more trouble and become bitter. In the end mum began to teach me at home too, this relieved the boredom, but I still didn't make any friends, and it didn't get rid of the bitterness. The teachers despaired of me, the kids thought I was weird, but I just ignored them, the only thing that could hurt me was the truth, and none of the kids dared to say it to my face, I wouldn't have cared even if they did. They didn't know me; they had nothing that could hurt me.

When I got old enough I used to ride and ride for hours on my bike, trying to get away from home and him. I threw myself into sports, and my school work. I thought that if I could maybe exhaust myself enough I wouldn't have to see, because my working brain would slow down for once. It didn't and I saw and I heard and I had to deal with the truth, I never dealt.

When he walked from the table I had seen those last words in his eyes, the saying, no, more of a statement, stuck.

Those last words…..

That last question filled with disappointment…

"Why are you like you are?"

I don't know, I can't say, it wouldn't matter if I did, everybody lies. I suppose I just am what I am and I see the final truth. Everybody lies to escape from seeing the truth which hurts far more then lies…. So I do the same thing, I use other means to hide the truth; I try to bury it all under a ton of other fake problems. That's what normal people are supposed to be like, but he just thinks that's what ungrateful people are like, what cowards do, hide the truth behind a lie. I can deal with the hearing, I can deal with the actions, it's the seeing that gets to me… because seeing brings the final truth…. And that hurts more then words ever could…..

That's why I don't deal with truth, I deal with lies and I try not to see too far behind them until I've absorbed them, the lies make the truth seem better and if I hear them often enough the truth seems boring. That's why I don't look behind the lies too quickly, why I don't skip them because……..

If you can't see it it's not there."