Baby
22 years later
Graduation day. How fun! Why can't they drop me in the bottom of a fire pit instead and tell me to climb my way up? That sure sounds less scary and risky than them dropping a business degree in my hands and tell me to find my way in this world.
Mom and dad dropped me in this campus for me to find my own way like they did. What they don't understand is that I'm not like them – I'm not a fighter. It's bad enough they named me Clovis, which apparently means renowned fighter in German, but they actually expect me to live up to the name.
I've heard the story at least a dozen times, the story of how I came to exist. I get it. They fought for me. I'm their miracle child, their fighting prize but seriously why can't they put as much pressure on my two younger sisters? Either one would be a fighter than me but no, I'm supposed to be the freaking warrior.
Just kill me already!
I don't want to be a fighter. I don't know how to be a fighter. I want someone to tell me what to do because I have no idea what to do. I have no plan, no aspirations. I completed a business degree because business was the first major my eyes fell on. I don't even know what I'm going to do with it but I just can't tell my parents.
I came to FU because it's the one they went to so I thought it would bring me as much luck as it had brought them but apparently it's one luck charm per family. I'm one generation too late.
I watch my family sitting in the assembly. My parents hand-in-hand as they smile at me with pride and joy, and my two sisters sitting by them while looking as bored as ever especially the youngest, Lea. She's the rebel. My grandparents stay behind them with a whole row separating my mother's parents and my dad's. The Clarks always look uncomfortable whenever we're all together as if they don't belong in this family. They don't want my mother in this family but they can't speak up.
I walk up the stage to pick up my degree, my heartbeat hammering as I'm handed the paper that's supposed to mean I have my shit together. Now, I have to start to execute a plan that I have yet to come up with.
My mom's arm lock around my neck as soon as they find me at the end of the ceremony. Her usually candy apple perfume assaults my nostrils. I'll never understand her attachment to such a fragrance.
She's crying again. She does that whenever I make the slightest achievement – birthdays, graduations, first date, first break up, and school dances. It annoys the hell out of me to have my mother hold me so tight in public but it's not like I can push her away. I'm her miracle child.
Seriously, can one of my sisters get that title already? I know Lea would love it. That'd definitely appease her need to rebel against any family tradition. She thinks that she doesn't belong in the family because her skin is lighter than Joy and me.
I blame her middle school classmates for that. She had once came home crying because one of them told her she wasn't our sister. Since she didn't look mix therefore mom had to have been cheating with a white guy.
Ughh, if only I had my way, I would have made sure that little smart mouth never sees the light of day again. Yes, Lea has green eyes and pale skin. So what? That's how mom looks like. Is there a certain way we all were supposed to come out in order to be consider the legit offspring of Joseph and Irene Pierre? Dumb people!
"I'm so proud of you," mom hugs me tighter. "I can't believe my baby is all grown up."
"Great, can we leave now?" Lea groans in the background.
Even her outfit screams I don't want to be here. She's wearing black high combat boots that doesn't compliment the green daisy print dress mom had forced her to put on. Her eyes are hiding under a pile of black eyeshadow and eyeliner while a skull beret holds her long black curly hair off her shoulders.
Mom continues to look at me. Probably reminding herself that I'm the son she thought she would never get to see with her own eyes. That's what she's always thinking when she's looking at me.
Dad joins us. He holds mom at her waist and pulls her back to him. If they weren't my parents, I would probably hate them for being so in love. Since they are my parents, all I can do is envy them.
I wish I could say I have my parents' blood in me but I don't. Every day they wake up ready to fight fist to fist with life while I wake up with the covers on my head, trying to hide from life.
"Hi Clovis," Shantel ruffles my hair as she passes by me with her boyfriend by her side.
I just hate people in love.
Shantel is a Jamaican girl who happened to share the same major as me and live with her sorority sisters a few blocks away from my small apartment. I've known her for three years and not once I've seen her without her boyfriend nearby. It's like they can't breathe without each other.
"Well now." Grandpa Clark lays his hands on my shoulders, the pride and joy slipping off him is practically choking me. "Finally I can stop working now and have my grandson rule the company for me."
Yay, I'm so ready to destroy the Clark family business.
I smile politely at him, not saying anything to encourage him nor to disappoint him. I should have expected this turns of events. The car company is a family business and mom is the only child they have. Since she decided to be a teacher, the burden falls on me to keep up the legacy.
"When do you want to start your training?"
"Ummm," I furrow my eyebrow while I pretend to be in deep thought. It's not like I have much better offers. My entire life plan is limited to waking up to my mom's cooking tomorrow morning.
"Dad, what did I say about pressuring him?" She hurls me away from him. "I'm sure Clovis can decide on his own what he wants to do. You can't force him in your business. We're only backing him on what he truly wants to do, what he loves."
I'm for that philosophy too – do what you love. Except that there's nothing I love. I don't like that my parents are just abandoning me in the big bad world and wait for me to discover that inner light to escape to the safe cabin on own.
It's not that I'm lazy. I'm in fact a hard worker – when someone else is guiding me. I just want that guidance, that person telling me what I love, what I need to be a happier me. Right now, I'm as vulnerable as a baby in a pack of wolves with a piece of paper as my only weapon. Let's hope the wolves develop some maternal instinct and raise me as their own. At least then I'd have a better idea of who I am and what's expected of me.
Why can't mom give me an ultimatum like her parents' did? That certainly would enlighten the path I need to take but no, I have to find the stupid light on my own.
"I'd love to work with grandpa." I smile up at mom, hoping she doesn't see through me like she tried so many times. There's just too much cluster in my mind for anyone to find their way in there – even me. "I want to get some real world experience. After all I did major in business so what better way to start other than in my own family's company. They won't kill me if I mess up." Then I think about it better, these people did disown my mother. "You're not going to kill me if I mess up right?"
"Don't stress it," his face lightens up when he got the answer he's been waiting for. "You have Clark blood in you. We're all geniuses at making money."
"Are you sure about this?" mom whispers in my ears. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to. I wouldn't want you to feel pressured into going to work with grandpa."
"It's fine, I want the job," I ease her worry. "I've always wanted to work at a job where I'm surrounded by beautiful cars."
And beautiful women. Who knows? This might be the right path for me anyways. This might be the wakeup call I need to figure out my hidden ambitions and maybe, just maybe I might have a taste at love for once. After all, there are many opportunities for working at a company your grandfather owns.
Love, please be one of them.
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This is the end of the road everybody. Thanks to everyone who read this story, it means a lot to me. There might be a sequel, Clovis's story but I don't know yet. Even if I decide to make one, it won't be up anytime soon.
XOXOXO