The record player in John's room spun and the music played as John let his head loll from side to side. There was nothing wrong with him, he didn't take anything, he was just relaxed.
He picked up his harmonica and played alongside the music; 'All Along the Watchtower', to be specific.
"What are you doing?" A gruff voice demanded from the door. John's father. A military man and an all-round 'clean-cut' individual.
"Just playing my harmonica to a bit of Bob Dylan, dad. It's ok." John smiled. He did not encourage his father's gruff tones at all and often tried to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.
"You're a weird boy, do you know that?" John's father sulked, "our family has a proud tradition of soldiers and war; yet you choose to be a pacifist and don't even know what you want to do with your life!"
"I know I want to help people and work towards the greater good. I don't know exactly how yet, but I'll figure it out."
"Soldiers are brave people who fight against our enemies. Isn't that good enough for you?!"
"I don't agree with war. I think that we should just talk things out instead of killing each other."
"I bet this moral high-ground of yours is just because you're a coward!"
"I'm not a coward father. A coward is someone who accepts social conformity while not agreeing with it and not trying to do things for the benefit of the world and to make themselves a little happier. A coward follows a doomed, miserable crowd."
"That's enough of that!"
"That is all I had to say." John did not say that to be defiant or to talk back. He smiled as he said it as it was the truth.
"So…" his father trying to change the subject, "how was school?"
"Good, actually. People made fun of my clothes, like you said they would, but I didn't really care about that. I made a new friend… So, yeah."
"A friend?" His father raised an eyebrow at the word. His son was not the sort of person to make friends easily.
"His name's Sherlock Holmes. I saved him from been beaten into a pulp and we got to talking."
"I thought violence wasn't your 'thing'…" he smirked.
"I used my words, dad."
"Come on, dinner's ready. You can do your homework after."
"Fine."
Father and son sat down for dinner and talked mainly about Sherlock before John went to do his homework. A friend? It took John's father the rest of the night to get his head around it.
Hey guys! It's a short chapter, I know, but it's the best I could do (sorry).
Please review! I love reviews! :)