PATRIARCH FOWL
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Casual Heroing, Chapter 139
🕑 Added 2023-07-16 19:22:01 +0000 UTCNext chapter comes out Monday, July 17th!
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WHAT'S A DAD GOTTA DO? 👨🏻👨🏻👨🏻
3/7 (count restarts tomorrow because I realized I didn't start posting on a Monday) chapters this week!
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Chapter 139 – Parenting
14 years earlier
“Don’t you worry, son. Everything is going to be okay,” Frank Luciani was tired, but he knew that graduation day hadn’t been great for Joe. He had made some friends toward the end of the year, and now he was about to lose them again. “I’m sure you’ll meet plenty of great people to be friends with in med school. We’ll go through all the invites you have received soon. But first, we should celebrate. What do you want to do? Disneyland?”
Joey Luciani was eleven years old and looking at his father with a frown.
“Hooters.”
Frank slapped the back of his son’s head and scoffed. “Don’t say that stuff in front of your mother. She’ll think I’m the one responsible for it!”
Joey just shrugged and started looking out of the car window.
“Come on, Joe. It’s all good. Don’t pout, son. You are lucky to be so special. I don’t even know how you came out like this—your mother isn’t stupid, but I failed middle school. If it all went well for us, you can be sure everything will be more than fine for you.”
Joey turned to look at his father with a furrowed brow.
“No. It won’t be. It’s going to be bad, dad. Very bad. I’m not going to go to med school. I know how it’s going to go, and no, thank you.”
Joey was about to turn away when he hesitated for a moment.
“Can we still go to Hooters?”
Frank didn’t even listen to his son’s crazy talk. He just laughed about Hooters. His son had loved it so much the few times they had been there, and the waitresses were clearly thinking that his pre-adolescent kid was joking when he tried flirting with them.
“I’ll try talking your mother into it. You know she gets jealous.”
“Of you?” Joey asked.
“Of you, Joe.”
Joey smiled at that.
“I have been reading books about flirting. They say you have to practice as much as possible to get good at it. I have been practicing at school too.”
“What? Wait, with that girl Vanessa who came home to study with you? Isn’t she too old for you?”
“I teach Vanessa,” Joey scoffed, imitating his father, “I don’t study with her. Both Noah and her did very well on their tests, thanks to me. But she didn’t want to come to prom with me.”
“You wanted to go to prom?” Frank looked at his son, confused.
“Yeah, but the only girls who accepted don’t take me seriously because I’m too young.”
Frank Luciani was about to crash his car through a wall from astonishment.
When had his child become a womanizer like this?
“Joe, I’m happy you are thinking about a girlfriend, but shouldn’t you be thinking about your studies first?”
“Girlfriend? What?” Joey seemed confused. “I’m practicing to find a wife. That’s what you do to live happily. The same way you are happy because of mom. The plan is to learn how to bake and make tons of friends—even my age. I don’t mind if they are not as smart as me; at least they won’t treat me like an alien. I can dumb myself down enough. And chickslove sweets, dad.”
Frank Luciani started frowning at the mention of baking.
“Well, Joe, I’m not sure how much time you’ll have for baking in med school.”
“I’m not going to med school!” Joey snapped.
“You are going to med school,” Frank snapped back.
“I was checking out baking courses in Italy. I’ve found some great chef courses that should be accessible with my high school degree. They are a bit pricy, but not as much as you think. I could even work to pay for them myself. I was looking at—”
Frank’s ears started ringing.
Was his son serious when he was talking about baking?
Had he missed something in his life?
…
“You will become a doctor, Joe! Stop talking trash and go to your room!” Frank roared.
“I won’t!” Joey shouted back. “I won’t become a doctor! Doctors are stupid! And they are miserable, dad!”
“Joe, if you keep talking trash, I swear to God and St. Peter’s sandals that I will pop your head off your neck and kick you out of this house!”
“Frank!” Aurora Luciani slapped his husband’s arm. “Don’t even say that!”
“Are you hearing what he’s saying?! He wants to throw away his future! Our child is a goddamn genius, and he wants to become a baker, Aurora! A goddamn, stupid baker!”
“Listen, Frank, let’s just talk it out with him. I’m sure we can reach an understanding.”
“No!” Joey shouted, “I’m not going to be a doctor! I’m going to become a baker!”
Joey had described to his father in excruciating detail how being a doctor would make for a miserable life. And truly, his argument did make sense. But Frank Luciani had grown up in a hard-working family who had never shirked away from what was difficult in life, and he wasn’t going to let his son do that.
“This is all the American shit that they teach them!” Frank shouted to his wife. “Independence and all that crap!” Then, he turned to Joey. “Joey, you are my son, and until the day I’m fucking dead or you are out of this house, you’ll do as I say!”
“I won’t! I won’t!” Joey ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.
“Frank, let him calm down for a second,” Aurora said.
“Calm down?! Calm down from what?! Is he coming home tired every night after breaking his back at work?! He is eleven, Aurora! My father would have sent me to the hospital with all the bones in my body broken in two if I dared answer him like he just did!”
“Yeah, and your father is a fucking idiot, Frank. It’s a miracle you came out like this with two parents like yours. If I could drown your mother in the Messina Strait tomorrow, I would.”
“Oh, don’t you start now!”
“Start what?! He’s a kid.”
“You are too soft on him! Don’t you see it?! He’s throwing a tantrum, and I’m not going to let him ruin his goddamn future! You spoiled him!”
“Spoiled him?” Aurora narrowed her eyes. “Ok, then do things your way. Let’s see how it works out. What are you going to do? Force him to go take all those interviews and tests?”
“Yes,” Frank said with a large smile. “If I need to sit by my son’s side while he takes whatever he needs to take, I will. We got a letter from Columbia. They want to talk to him next week. I’m bringing him there whether he likes it or not. And if I need to hold his pencil while he studies, I’ll do that as well. My son is not ruining his future because of a stupid tantrum.”
“Are you serious? Do you even know your son, Frank? Do you think that will do any good for his future? He’s a genius. Maybe he won’t go this year. Maybe he’ll go next year. What’s your plan? Force him to take every choice in the world until he decides he hates both of us?!”
“Yes. If that’s what it takes. I’m his father. I don’t need to be his friend.”
…
“Being a man, Joe, means that you need to do stuff you don’t want to do. You are going there, and you’ll answer all the questions they will ask you. It’s an informal meeting set up with the president of the faculty or whatever. They just want to see you. And you are going to tell them that you dowant to be a doctor. Are we clear?”
“But I don’t want to!” Joey sobbed in the car as his father drove him through New York traffic.
“I don’t want to,” his father said in a mocking tone. “Who do you think cares about what you want? No one. Didn’t you promise me you would become a doctor?”
Joey got startled at that and suddenly looked down between his legs.
“Did you promise me, yes or no?”
“Yes,” Joey said in a low voice. “But dad…”
“No buts, ifs, or anything like that. You promised. You want to be a man, an adult? Then your word is sacred. You are a genius, son. Don’t you think you’ll finish everything in, like, three years? I swear to you, as soon as you graduate – and you will graduate – you can do whatever you want. But I can’t stand you and your mother throwing tantrums around me. Are we clear?”
Joey looked a bit less upset when his father reminded him that he wouldn’t take too long to graduate – most likely.
“But dad, I’m not special. Do you think I can really do it?”
“You are special, son. You have always been. You’ll have a blast, trust me. And I’m sure there will be other kid geniuses at school too.”
“I don’t care about kid geniuses,” Joey growled. Then, he seemed to think of something. “Do you think med school girls are hot?”
“Joe, I swear to God that if you get in, I’ll allow you to join a fraternity, as long as you don’t tell your mother I said this. And yes, college girls are very pretty. I’ll even teach you some tricks myself.”
Joey looked skeptically at his father.
“You?”
“How do you think I got your mother to marry me, Joe? You didn’t take your looks from me, that’s for sure. You are her spitting image. I had to work hard for it.”
“And you’ll teach me?” Joey asked, now curious.
“Yes,” Frank said in relief, taking one hand off the steering wheel and ruffling his son’s hair. “I promise.”
They kept driving in silence, and Joey looked deeply immersed in his thoughts. Frank occasionally glanced at his son, who looked upset, yes, but much less so than when he dragged him out of the house.
“We’re almost there,” Frank said.
Joey got startled.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think I’ll be a good doctor?”
Frank actually laughed at that.
“Good? Joe, you’ll be great. You’ll be like one of those Nobel prize guys. Hell, you might even cure cancer as far as I know.”
“Really?” Joey asked with wide eyes.
He might be a genius, but he’s still a child, Frank thought, smiling to himself. That’s what Aurora still doesn’t understand.
“Yes, Joe. You’ll be great. Let’s get out of the car. I’m feeling in the mood for a parking ticket today. I just want to get this over with.”
Frank stopped in a no-park zone and simply turned on the hazard lights.
“Let’s go.”
They both exited the car, and Joey stared at the huge university buildings in the distance.
“Joe? Come on; we don’t want to be late.”
Frank went to Joey’s side of the car. But then, something went wrong.
Joey suddenly collapsed on the ground, his body shaking violently. Frank's eyes widened in panic as he realized his son was having a… seizure?!
"Joe! Joey!" Frank shouted, immediately dropping to his knees beside his son. He had no idea what to do; he had never seen Joey like this before. His body convulsed, limbs flailing uncontrollably, and his eyes rolled back.
"Help!" Frank yelled, desperately looking around for someone who could assist him. A passerby noticed the commotion and rushed over.
"What's happening?" the stranger asked, alarmed.
"My son..." Frank managed to stammer, his hands hovering over Joey, unsure of how to help.
"Sir, I'm a doctor. I know what to do," the stranger reassured him, kneeling down beside Joey. "We need to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Roll him onto his side and move anything that could injure him."
Frank nodded, following the instructions as best as he could. The stranger checked Joey's pulse and timed the seizure while they waited for it to pass. It felt like an eternity to Frank as he watched his son struggle, but the doctor remained calm and composed, guiding him through each step.
“Does he take any medication?”
“No… this—it’s the first time it happened,” Frank said, distraught.
Once the seizure subsided, the doctor helped Frank sit Joey up. Frank held his son tightly, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe what had just happened.
"Thank you," Frank choked out.
"No problem. I'm glad I could help. You should take him to the hospital to get him checked," the doctor advised.
But then, Joey’s feeble voice came out.
“Dad,” he panted, “I’m ok… let’s go to the interview… we are late.”
Frank’s eyes widened, and, for the first time today, he felt truly unsure about forcing his son like this.
“Joe, we… we should go to the hospital and then home.”
“Dad… I’m okay,” Joey said, getting out of Frank’s embrace and shakingly getting up.
“Sir, I need to go now, but you really should take him to the hospital.”
The stranger walked away.
“Dad, let’s just go to the interview,” Joey pushed out his words with a smile on his face. “It’s… I’m just nervous.”
Frank was at a crossroad, and while his instincts told him something, he didn’t feel like risking his son’s life because of that.
“No, Joe. We can go to the interview another time. We are going to the hospital, and then, if everything’s fine, we’ll go to the restaurant. Your mother was supposed to make a new batch of cannoli today. I’m bringing you to her so you can get a treat.”
“Are you sure, dad?”
“Yes, Joe,” Frank sighed. “I’m sure.”
