One is used to dads being fairly benign influences during childhood…. the gentle rap on the knuckle for the occasional window smashed by the wild square cut…or errant facial hair.. and the odd knowing glance when one’s convincing mothers about lack of examinations being a recent educational trend that’s catching on fast….but like I said, mostly benign…or so I thought…until that fateful summer of ’97…
I started…on seeing two cigs on the bookcase, right next to the copy of the Godfather. And it wouldn’t have been cause to start, or even stir gently for that matter, except that I was seventeen, just beginning to enjoy the heady rush of early manhood, and inevitably, nicotine…and I was home from university for the summer break. And there they were…cigs on the bookcase… and no one home.
I pondered about it for a while… quickly filched the smokes and dragged 'em on the terrace. Deed done…mouth disinfected with Listerine..and some really foul chicken gravy (always the criminal mind) …I waited for my folks to come back home from work.
All went reasonably well when they did… they didn’t sniff out any carcinogenic behaviour.. enquired politely about falling grades, a touch more hostility about my increasing allowance needs…but like I said, it went well…
Next morning, a Saturday- I remember, after a fabulous egg and some sweet tea,...I was sprawled on the floor over the cricket pages.....Mom going over the Reader's Digest...“you smoke?” she said without looking up ….I started, with considerably more momentum than the previous morning…”ummm…of course not, mom.. what on earth gave you the idea?”…”Dad was saying last night….there were a couple of cigarettes on the bookca-“
“Oh that!” I carried on….with the air of one who’s seen the better part of the world’s pair of missing cigs being ascribed to innocent folk….”Oh that!....Hunch (a univ mate) was over yesterday afternoon….and he’s started to smoke these days, you know…and he smoked them…utterly disgusting I know…but what's one to do?”…"I see…for a moment there, I-" "Oh c’mon ma…me? smoke?” I uttered…with the perfect balance of righteous indignation..and nonchalance….”some more tea, ma?”
And that was that.
Until the next morning…..like a moment from a parallel universe...me poring over the newspaper and mom again in that matter of fact voice, as if she was carrying on from where she left off....”well.. you know…dad found it interesting….that hunch smoked TWO cigs….well.. you know…when two people are together….felt it was far more likely that he smoked one….and the other…you know…”
I collapsed into my crossword.
