Rene Gutteridge - Listen

Hunter’s eyes widened with each word. He stood completely still, barely even blinking.

“You should be able to talk to me about these things. And I’m sorry I’ve come across as a father you can’t talk to.”

“Am I in trouble?”

That was all he wanted to know, whether or not he was in trouble? Damien crossed his arms. “Do you think you should be in trouble?”

“Um… I think… I’d like to explain.”

Damien tried not to smirk. This ought to be good. “Fine.”

“I know the rules, and I know I’m not supposed to be doing this. But you don’t understand what I’ve been going through and how helpless I feel against everything.”

Damien bit his lip. How to spin this? Spin it? No. This was real life, with a real kid. It was time Damien connected on a deeper level. He walked over to Hunter’s bed and sat down, patting the empty space next to him. “Come sit down with me.”

Hunter obliged, sitting next to his father with a slouch that made osteoporosis look healthy.

“Here’s the deal. I do know what you’re going through.”

“You do?”

“Sure. What you’re feeling is not unnatural. Every guy goes through this, and in and of itself, it’s healthy. But when you take these urges and allow them to get out of control, by taking them places you know you shouldn’t go, then you’ve got a problem.”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

Oh, brother. How specific was he going to have to get? He glanced at Hunter, who was staring at him. He offered a small smile. “Okay, see, every guy is tempted with this. And with the Internet, it’s so much easier to get. Back in my day, we had to actually have the nerve to go into the gas station and buy a copy. And then you had to try to hide it so your mother wouldn’t find out.”

By the expression on Hunter’s face, Damien thought he was maybe saying too much. But what else could he say? He couldn’t dismiss this or turn to anger. What good would that do? “All I’m trying to say is that it’s normal to… It’s just not okay to get involved in. Not in our house. Son, once you look at those images, you can never take them back. They’re in you forever.” Damien paused to take a deep breath and look at Hunter, whose face was still frozen with shock. “What? Am I being too forthright here?”

“What are you talking about?” Hunter asked.

“Pornography. What were you talking about?”

“The MySpace page I opened. I know I’m not supposed to have one, but I needed one.”

Damien jumped to his feet, holding his stomach and his mouth at the same time. “That’s what you were talking about?”

Hunter’s eyes turned worried. “Can’t I explain? Please?”

“Yes, of course.” Damien tried not to sound as relieved as he felt. So the kid opened a MySpace page? Damien wanted to run around the room and do a little dance. But he had disobeyed, so Damien tried to look as stern as possible.

Hunter slid off the bed and slowly moved to his computer, watching Damien closely as if he was afraid of a sudden move or a possible lecture on the female anatomy.

Damien stood near Hunter as the kid typed something into the address bar. A page appeared.

“That’s not you,” Damien said. “And that’s not your name.”

“I just pulled a pic off the Web and made up a name.”

“Why?”

More typing, then a new page came up. Hunter pointed to a block of writing. “Read this.”

Damien scanned it. Something about a bratty girl. The language was inundated with a lot of profanity and lewd comments. “What is this?”

Hunter turned in his chair, a serious expression on his face. “It’s about Jenna.”

“What?”

“They’re talking about Jenna.”

“Jenna isn’t named.”

“I know. You have to read more on this page to know it’s her. But they’re talking about her. All over the place. Smearing her name.”

Damien looked at Hunter, then back at the screen.

“It’s just a few girls,” Hunter said. “I know who they are. They’re the ones that hung out with the two that were arrested.”

“So they’re targeting Jenna because…”

“She told. They know she’s the one that told the police where to find Gabby.”

Damien stood upright, gasped. “How?”

“I’m not sure. I think it was mostly just a lucky guess. Jenna stopped hanging around them, and they decided she was the one that went to the police.”

Damien shook his head, staring at the screen.

“But look what I’ve been doing.” Hunter beckoned him closer. “It’s like a cyber blast. I’m working to control the first page that appears on Google when Jenna’s name is entered. So I’ve started blogs and a MySpace page and have linked up with any positive mention of her name, which is easy to do with alerts. Anytime her name is mentioned on the Web, I’m alerted. Then I sort of manipulate the information so that only positive remarks show up on the first page of Google. It’s kind of a way to manage your online reputation. And I think it’s working. Over the past few days, there has been way less activity. A lot of the people who were talking about her before are losing interest. But I’m not stopping until this thing dies down completely.”

Damien quit staring at the screen. He couldn’t take his eyes off his son. Emotions welled up as he watched him talk.

Hunter glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

His voice cracked. “I’m just proud of you. You’re amazing.”

Hunter looked away. “It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal. Does Jenna know?”

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. It’s hard to hide from this kind of thing.”

“No, I mean, does she know what you’re doing for her?”

“Please don’t tell her. She’d freak out and get all emotional and stuff. And who wants a little brother handling your bullies, you know?”

Damien nodded. “I see what you mean.”

“So this stays here?”

“I promise.”

“Thanks. Oh, and I promise I won’t tell anyone about your porn problem.”

“What? No! No, there’s no porn problem. It was just an example. Those magazines, that was a long time ago, like when I was younger, way younger.” Damien took a breath. He was rambling.

An awkward moment passed. Hunter looked at Damien with a worried expression, indicating he thought there still might be some repercussions or perhaps new confessions.

“Finish up your homework,” Damien said, then walked out, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath and chuckling a little. Well, at least he got the pornography discussion out of the way.

He listened for the shower. It had stopped. He walked the length of the hallway to find the bathroom vacant. Jenna’s bedroom door was closed. He tapped lightly. “Jenna?”

No answer.

He hesitated before opening the door. He wasn’t sure he could go another round of “It’s pornography-wait, no, a MySpace page” again.

He nudged the door, cracking it open slightly, just enough to see the lights were off and Jenna was in her bed. She didn’t even stir.

“Jenna?” he whispered.

She didn’t respond. Her breathing was slow, peaceful.

He crept across the wood floor to the edge of her bed. He stared at her for a long time, remembering how he watched her sleep when she was a little girl, curled tightly around a giant panda he’d given her when she was four. He’d liked to watch her sleep, brush her tangled hair off her face, rub her cheek with the back of his hand.

He imagined, though, that now she was not quite the deep sleeper of her childhood.

Instead, he knelt down on the small, fluffy circle rug by her bed. As he clasped his hands together, the feeling of helplessness that caught him up in constant fear melted away. He knew he had no control over this situation, and there was nothing worse to feel than helplessness over a child.