Thunderlight

(Cont.) Selfish

He yelled at them with a vicious war cry and flung sticks and stones and everything he could get his bloodied, angry little hands on. Curses spat forth from his lips, words his father called him when he was upset with him.

"Useless little shits!" He cried, his voice cracking and roaring with too much rage for such a tiny body. "Pathetic, no-good, sorry wastes of my time!"

Watching the retreating figures of those bullies felt like victory. It tasted like triumph, like vengeance, like justice. Helping Torquil out of the dirt and dusting him off felt good. It made him feel good inside to calm Torquil down and help him dry his tears. But just as the atmosphere settled and Torquil's crying turned to laughing at Montgomery's jokes and antics, a shadow consumed them.

Torquil shrunk back in fear and the temperature plummeted. When Montgomery turned, he was face to face with the grim, stony countenance of his father.

Father: "Did you attack the Eaton children when they came to visit?"

Montgomery: "They weren't visiting, they were bullying Torquil!"

A flash of anger stole over his father's features. "Is that how you speak to the Alcott patriarch?"

Montgomery, realizing his mistake, bowed his head and murmured a submissive 'no.'

"The Eaton family are close allies with the Alcotts. Our friendship with them spans generations," his father informs, his voice grave and dire, as if reading an obituary. "Someday, you will be expected to take up the family mantle and maintain those connections. Your strained relationship with their children could ruin our standing with them for years to come—do you understand what I am saying?"

Montgomery nodded. He understood the words being spoken, but he felt that he was missing the underlying subtext surrounding them, or the 'bigger picture.' But he knew better than to ask. Asking his father questions was almost always taken as disrespect.

As if his father could tell that he was lying, he sighed heavily. Wearily. Like he was the most patient man in the world and Montgomery was the only creature who could test that unyielding patience. It made him want to shrink and disappear in shame.

"That means you need to weigh the pros and cons of your actions. Although the Douglass family and ours are close, they do not have the same influence as the Eatons. We need to put more emphasis on fostering connections to the stronger Eatons rather than the weaker Douglasses." Montgomery squirmed uncomfortably while Torquil looked at the ground. He wished his father wouldn't talk about Torquil's family like that right in front of him. "So, tell me: your decision to support the Douglass heir by challenging the Eatons—was that the correct choice?"

"It..." No. That's the answer his father wants to hear, 'no.' But that doesn't sit well with Montgomery. What he did today felt right. Felt good. Doesn't that mean it was a good thing? "It feels right."

His father frowned, displeased. "It only feels right because you're a selfish boy, Montgomery."

He was shocked by the accusation.

Selfish?

"You are selfish. Self-centered. Self-serving," his father condemned, each word striking him like a knife to the heart. "Your choice could have harmed the Alcott's family standing with the Eatons, costing us an irreplaceable asset. If that choice feels right to you, that is because your feelings are inherently selfish."

Montgomery helped Torquil because it felt right. It felt good. But if that was the wrong thing to do, the selfish thing to do...

Did that mean he was a bad person?