Weekends with Jimmy - Part III

I was going through a lot of changes in the first five years after the break up of my first marriage. Getting to spend time with my young son on weekends was cathartic (I think for both of us). It allowed us both to cling to some semblance of our past life while cultivating the on-going father-son relationship that has always been near and dear to my heart.

Our weekends began to take on a familiar pattern after only a very few months. We would meet generally on Saturday morning (sometimes as early as Friday night if that was possible given the schedules of both myself and my ex father-in-law). We would go to the mall and hang around, potentially take in some movie. We would have a grand breakfast on Sunday morning, talk about books, school, computers and computer games (a favorite topic of my son over the first 5-6 years) and then get ready for the ride back down on Sunday afternoon/evening.

As much as I relished the thrill of going to pick him up, I hated to see the end of the weekend come because it seemed that I would just get used to having my son around when I had to say goodbye for five days. The ride back on Sunday evenings was always long and lonely.

He eventually did get enrolled into a private Christian school in the year after I left. His mother and I discussed this and it was decided that we would give it a year to make a decision but she felt pretty strongly that he would do better in a smaller environment.

After about a month of attending this new school, the conversations that cropped up within the car on the way up on Saturday morning began to get interesting.

“Dad do you believe in evolution?”

“Do I believe in….” Okay where the heck is this going?

“Evolution as in all species evolving in time through the use of natural selection and the adaptation of all species to their natural surroundings….?

“ Yeah, I guess…”

“Yes… I guess I believe in evolution. Why do you ask?”

“Well, the kids are calling me Evan.”

“Evan?…” Oh, I think I get it…

“So, this has become a topic of conversation in school?

“Yes.”

“In science class?”

“Well, no but, you see they all seem to think that there is no such thing as evolution. When I try to explain it to them, they laugh at me…”

“You’re kidding….”

“No.”

“Have you brought this up to your mother lately?”

“No…”

“Okay, I give her a call later. Anything else going on in school?”

Weekends with Jimmy - Part II

“I’m not getting along too well with my teacher this year.”  Jimmy said.

“Okay, got that but, if you change schools, you’ll be leaving behind all of your friends in the public school.  Just want to make sure you understand all the implications.”

My son then went on to tell me that he was going to accompany his mother and grandfather next week to some open house at the private school. 

“Which one specifically are we talking about?”  I asked.

“The St. Christian’s Boy’s Academy”…

“A Catholic school?”  Overstating the obvious.

“Yeah, I guess so…”

We had not even taken the step to get my son baptized.  I was curious how that would play out in a Catholic school.  His mom and I discussed religion when he was born and decided that we thought it presumptuous to go through the motions of baptism and other religious sacraments before the child was able to decide for himself what faith, if any, he wanted to pursue.  We felt that our responsibility was to expose him to the choices and let him decide when he was ready.  Here was 8 years later talking about Catholic school (well, actually it was his mom that was talking about Catholic school).

He would eventually make that change in the coming year, which leads to some other interesting developments we might get to in the coming sections of this story.  For now, we’ll go along with the rest of this particular weekend.

We proceeded with the ride up to the capital district of New York and my meager little three-room apartment.  “So, what do you want to do this weekend?”

“Can we go get bagels?”

“Sure.”

My son had fallen in love with a local bagel shop in Troy.  It became a standard ritual either on Saturday or Sunday that we would wind up there and either get a bag of bagels and return to the apartment or we would eat in at the restaurant and talk.  Jimmy also enjoyed the fine array of juices this shop also offered.

As we crunched on the bagel sandwiches, I checked out the areas movie offerings.  It was also a favorite activity of ours to check out a movie on these weekends.  I read off the selection of movies and my son picked one that interested him.

We returned to the apartment to drop off his bag of clothes and his video game console (he rarely traveled anywhere without his console of choice in those days).  We then set out for the local movie theater that was featuring our afternoon’s movie.

The fire

The first I noticed that something was wrong was the sound. Popping and crackling as the insulation around the wires melted and the electrical system shorted out.

Then I looked out our bedroom window and saw flames shoot out the eves of the building across the street. The fire curled cleverly up onto the roof then licked and leaped towards the black night sky.

Then I smelled the smoke. It smelled like the smoke from burning trash in a barrel; the smell of the smoke from burning paper and plastic; a smell that you feel in the back of your throat.

Rhinehook was a small town on the bank of the Hudson river. There was only one Chinese restaurant, a dilapidated hotel, and a small cafe. Next to the cafe was an attached house - it was this house that was on fire now. The Rhinehook firehouse was just 20 yards down the road from the cafe.

I didn't call 911. I was sure that someone had called already. I walked downstairs with my wife and we went out into the square in front of the cafe. There were a lot of people standing around, watching the fire. Their faces were lit by the flames. I was reminded of campfires - quiet, flickering faces staring intently.

Minutes went by, I wondered where the firetrucks were. The house was a blaze now. Just to the right of me I heard someone sobbing and noticed for the first time a young woman wrapped in a blanket. She moaned and yelled out "He's still in there!". I don't know why I thought she was talking about her dog. We had just moved to town and didn't know anyone, certainly didn't know if she even had a dog, or if she had a cat. The next day I found out she had a boyfriend.