"Fathers & Sons" - Writing contest entry

Peeking through the blinds, he saw them. The two men stood in front of his building in the early afternoon. Mr. Stubbs, clad in overalls and boots, stood hands in pockets, listening to Mr. Fisher. Mr. Fisher, red-faced, gestured wildly with his arms. Mr. Stubbs pulled off his hat and scratched the back of his head. Mr. Fisher wore dress clothes and shined shoes. By outward appearances one couldn’t imagine what the two men had in common. They took turns speaking and listening. It seemed they were spitballing.

“What the hell were they doing out there?” the man wondered, spying out the window.

Finally, the two men nodded, shook hands and entered the building. The window blind snapped closed and the man behind the desk tried his best to put on the air of superiority and astuteness he displayed for all visitors to his office.

Mr. Stubbs closed the frosted glass door behind them. Stenciling on the glass read “Principal J. Davies”. Everyone was still. All adult eyes in the room shifted between the two boys who were separated by distance but joined by a glare of resentment. The boys were banged up. Black eyes, a split lip, a bloody nose. Their clothes were a mess.

“Thank you for coming so quickly” Principal Davies stood. “I understand you must both have been…”

“I was in the middle of pricing items and placing orders for this weekend’s sale. I’m not happy about being called down here!” interrupted Mr. Fisher.

“Mr. Fisher, your son disregarded school policy and was a danger to himself and others. Our discipline policy dictates that fighting is punishable with suspension.”

“Discipline policy? You should have titled it “Discipline Avoidance Policy”, Principal Davies!” said Mr. Fisher.

“When I was a boy, the principal paddled us till our asses were on fire. Then, if you could walk upright, he put us to work around the school. That was a punishment that worked.” Mr.

Stubbs interjected.

The two boys winced at his words, and stared at the floor, praying that wasn’t going to be the case here.

“How is three days off school a punishment? Coddling these kids is why you get this kind of trouble.” Mr.
Stubbs continued.

Taken aback by the confederation and lack of support for school policy, Principal Davies sat with his mouth open. He was accustomed to mothers showing up, agreeing with him and dragging their children out of his office by their ear.

“Sirs, I’m sorry you disagree with our policies, but I’m sure you agree that our primary job is to educate your children. Discipline is primarily the job of the parents.”

The two fathers looked at each other for a moment, then at Principal Davies.

“Principal Davies, I’m sure you agree that as parents inspect homework, schools should support parents by ensuring children behave while in your care.” added Mr. Fisher.

In the parking lot, the men spoke briefly and departed.

Sunrise lit the tobacco field. Jeremiah Stubbs and his son, Jerry, walked through the pinky orange sunbeams to the barn. Soon afterward, gravel popped under the tires of a black sedan parking outside. Larry Fisher and his son, Brian, sat inside the auto.

“Dad, what are we doing here?”

“Teaching you damn lesson. Let’s go.”

Mr. Fisher carried a paper sack into the barn. Brian Fisher followed his father, but carried only apprehension. The boys exchanged surprised looks. Their fathers stood talking and sipping coffee.

“O.K., boys. Here it is.” said Mr. Fisher. “Mr. Stubbs and I have agreed that Mr. Davies decision to give you a vacation is bullshit.”

“We are going to get to the bottom of this nonsense, nip it in the bud, right here and now.” Mr. Stubbs chimed in, pointing his finger towards the ground for emphasis.

The two boys stood wide-eyed, unsure what was about to happen.

“Let’s clear the air between you two boys. We have our suspicions of the catalyst, but why don’t you tell us your side, Brian?” said Mr. Fisher.

“Jerry here is bothering my girl, Ruby! I gave him fair warning, he didn’t listen, so I had to give him a kicking.” Brian Fisher gloated, eyeing Jerry.

“Jerry, how do you see it?” Mr. Stubbs asked

“Ruby is hardly YOUR girl! She’s been makin time with me since Homecoming!” Jerry hollered.

Both fathers rolled their eyes. It was just as they had suspected

The boys faced off, bickering; two roosters trying to be the Cock of the Walk

Mr. Stubbs separated the boys. Mr. Fisher emptied the paper sack and entered the fray. Suddenly the boys found themselves looking stupidly at the boxing gloves on their hands.

“Go ahead and get it out of your system here, where you can’t get in any more trouble.” Mr. Stubbs said

Shortly, the jawing started and they were at each other. Dirt, curses and punches flew wildly through the barn. The boys fought fiercely, but nobody was seriously injured. After a few moments the battle halted. Both boys, exhausted and beaten, collapsed on hay bails.

“Round three, anyone?” asked Mr. Fisher

Both boys shook their heads, declining.

“Good. What you boys need to take away from this is that Ruby doesn’t care about either of you. She just wants the attention. Forget about her. Last night at the lodge her father told me she’s going steady with
Chet Filmore.”

“Ruby is playing the field! Boys, anyone who will cheat with you, will cheat on you. Mr. Stubbs is right, you are better off without her and her games.“ added Mr. Fisher.

The boys were incredulous. Neither could believe that their dearest Ruby would drop them for the jock, Chet Filmore.

“Now, let’s talk about the work schedule for the next three days.” Mr. Stubbs said, grinning widely. “I got you boys in the tobacco fields today.”


“And I have you unloading delivery trucks tomorrow.” Mr. Fisher said.

“What about the third day?” the boys asked in unison.

The two fathers smiled at the boys. “Friday you will be mowing grass and pulling weeds for Mr. Davies. He finally came around to some common sense.” Mr Stubbs smiled.