American Scholar by Patrick E. Horrigan

Author:Patrick E. Horrigan [Horrigan, Patrick E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lethe Press
Published: 2022-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

2016

No sooner had James left Snyder’s building than he felt the vibration in his pocket— Snyder! (he hoped) texting to say all the right words (as usual), making everything okay again. He checked his phone. It was a text from Natalie: Hiya Jim, hoping you can come home for a few days before Thanksgiving to be with Dad. Let’s talk this weekend.

He knew how to interpret messages from his sister. That “hoping” really meant “expecting.” His father’s legs were failing and he needed help around the house. James could hear her chastising him: “You have all the free time in the world. You’re on sabbatical. Even when you’re teaching you’ve got more free time than anyone I know! The least you could do … ” Maybe it was petty and selfish of him (certainly that’s how Nat saw it), but he had little appetite for spending more than a couple of hours at a stretch with his father. It might have been different when his mother was alive, they at least had things in common (movies, music, a shared sense of humor). But he’d never been close to his father, even less so once he came out. “I have always found homosexuality repugnant” was his father’s cold, clinical comment, words seared into James’ consciousness, though he knew at this point in life he should forgive. But how? What does it mean to forgive someone you know, in his heart of hearts, looks down on you, sees you as his inferior, sees your life as less meaningful, no matter that you’re married, no matter how accomplished you are, how many diplomas you’ve earned and awards you’ve won, how many books you’ve written, how many people whose lives you’ve influenced as a writer and educator? None of it mattered to his father, all of it paled in comparison to the one thing James hadn’t done: parented a child (all the more reason Fran’s insistence on having a child got under his skin). And don’t get him started on politics! When he asked his father the other day why he was planning to vote for Donald Trump instead of Hilary Clinton in the upcoming election—given, James reminded him, all the damning things we already know about Trump, all of which are part of the public record, and that’s not even counting the “Access Hollywood” tape—his father’s know-nothing response (besides calling Clinton “a bag”) was “because Donald Trump loves his children.”

He reached the little park at the corner of 59th and Second Avenue. An abandoned shopping cart piled with plastic bags full of bottles and cans stood near the entrance. Of course he wouldn’t refuse, he would take care of his father for a few days, more if necessary. But right now he needed to put that out of his mind. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would answer his sister’s text tomorrow.

He sat down on one of the benches and took a deep breath. He wondered if it was really over with Snyder. Should

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