Unwanted child. Scott Melani
realised their child's potential as early as the second year, so for many of them, the meeting was formal. The most they could get out of it was a list of recommended schools, which were recruiting in the speciality of interest, taking into account their financial situation.
The meeting was scheduled for 18-00. On the one hand, it was easier to get everyone together, because in any case parents took their children home from CEC at that time, and on the other hand, it was the most convenient time for most of the parents. The office of the director was overcrowded with people gathered inside and there was obviously not enough space for everyone. The meeting had already started about 20 minutes ago when Lars knocked on the door. He was tired after work and unhappy that he had to close the restaurant early due to a family emergency. Since there was barely enough money to feed himself, most of the staff had to be abandoned by the businessman. So he had to do many things in the establishment himself. He knocked on the door, immediately opened it and peered through the small crack inside. There was a discussion about Derek Wanger, which was nearing its conclusion.
Headmistress: ‘…so I think it would be ideal for Derek to go to a school with a sporting focus. In principle, you can send him to our village school, but I think that if you have the opportunity, you should go to Ounvilshen. It's a bronze status town after all, and the coaches there teach at a higher level. Not to mention that the school regularly fields its students in inter-city competitions, which certainly raises their level of training, giving the kids the extra practice they need. Yes, Mr Davel. You may come in.’
The headmistress gestured for the latecomer to enter her office, noticing the door slit through which Theodore's father was watching the discussion. Lars quietly entered and took the empty seat among the other parents. He wanted to be free as soon as possible so that he could return to his restaurant again. However, given his lateness, he could only count on the last place in the queue. The headmistress did not discuss each child individually for long, but if there was a discussion between her and the parents, or if they asked additional questions, it took some time to answer.
Describing each child's potential, the head of the youth centre explained to fathers and mothers, grandparents and carers exactly what it was and what prospects the children could have if they chose the right direction. After about an hour, it was Lars' turn. The rows were emptying out, because having received the necessary information about their child, the relatives were no longer particularly interested in staying in the office for a long time, listening about other people's children. Towards the end, only one elderly couple and Lars were left in the room when it was his turn.
Headmistress: ‘So, now, let's talk about Theodore. Mr Davel, could you come a little closer so I can get a good look at you. Especially since the available space in this room already allows for it.’
Despite the fact that there were hardly any people left, Lars had been in the same position until this request, leaning against the opposite wall from the headmistress. After her words, he involuntarily moved closer simply to avoid getting into a conflict with the woman who already considered him a careless man incapable of raising a child. This was due to a number of situations that had arisen in the past involving him, as well as the man's remarks to Theodore. Lars had repeatedly managed to clearly demonstrate his neglectful attitude to his son.
– So, Mr Davell. As you know, we're here to discuss your child's future. Do you already know which specialities Theodore has a great predisposition for? – The headmistress started the conversation, staring practically unblinkingly into the eyes of the boy's parent.
– I thought you were going to tell me everything… – Lars spread his hands, averting his gaze from the head of the CEC.
– Why am I not surprised at all? All the parents who have been in this office today, without my help and hints, already understood the strengths of their children.
– Very happy for them. What's next?
– Ah, next… you know, if it were up to me, if I had even the slightest reason, whether it was a complaint from Theodore or your neighbours about the boy's terrible upbringing and maintenance, I would not hesitate to go to the guardianship authorities and take him away from you. You are not a good parent and have no regard for the welfare of your child!
– But you haven't had cause to.
– I'm sorry… but you know I won't take my eyes off you for the rest of Theodore's education. You show up late and drunk, the child is dressed in shabby clothes that are already too small for him. If you spent less money on booze, you'd have enough for normal clothes. You are a clear example of what kind of parent you can't be!
– I'm still waiting for your comments about the school. I didn't come here to hear insults directed at me!
– Alas, the law is not on my side so I can save a boy from such a father!
– Remember that last phrase the next time you choose your words. Otherwise my patience will run out and you'll lose your job as a result.
– I'm not going to argue with you. I just want to make sure you don't screw up the boy's future.
– His future is not your problem. Let's get down to business.
– Theodore, just so you know, has the potential to be a good martial arts athlete. There are several schools that match his abilities. One, the closest one, is here in Gai. Another is in Ounvilshen, which is a priority because it's higher class. The third is of the same standard as our village school and is in another locality. That's about as far as the options closest to Gai go. Here's a list of all the schools that match the needed direction. They are arranged in order of distance from our village. The asterisks indicate their overall level. Please read this list in detail. Better yet, visit at least five of them to see for yourself their facilities and teaching staff.
– I'll figure it out. Is that it?
– That's all, Mr Davel.
Lars snatched the piece of paper the headmistress held in her hand and turned his back on her and walked silently out of the office. The headmistress looked regretfully at him and turned her gaze to the elderly couple sitting on the sofa.
Man: ‘What an unpleasant type. I remember when he fell in drunk at the CEC and could barely stand on his feet. Good thing we made him leave his car near the centre then. Otherwise, I think there would have been an accident.
Woman: ‘Why haven't the guardianship authorities taken an interest in his behaviour? Is there nothing that can be done?’
Headmistress: ‘Unfortunately, our hands are tied, because the current laws take the unambiguous position that no matter what the birth mother and father are, if there are no complaints against them from the child himself, it is impossible to deprive them of their parental rights. Moreover, Davel formally fulfils the main care of the child, feeding and clothing him. But you and I realise that formal parental care is never enough…’.
Lars grabbed Theodore's arm quickly and roughly, and they walked together in silence towards the car. Although Gai was a small village, the man was accustomed to doing all his business exclusively by means of a vehicle, neglecting walking. Ted, out of habit, wanted to sit in the back seat as he approached the car. He jerked the door handle, but was immediately stopped by his father, ‘No, no. Today you're going to walk and weave around catching up with me. You are an athlete, a future world boxing star! So develop your sporting skills’.
There was nothing to do. The boy stepped away from the car and obediently walked towards the house. It was evening, and it was almost dark outside. The poorly lit dirt road was illuminated only by the headlights of cars passing in opposite directions. Theodore stepped confidently along the narrow pavement, on the right side of which, at a distance of 200-300 metres, there were low lanterns emitting a dim light. They were of little use. They only served to delimit the space around them from total darkness. Lars's car had long since disappeared from Theodore's line of sight and disappeared into the distance. The boy walked in thought, not realising what he had done to make his father so angry that he had been deprived of the opportunity to get home by car. By the time he was six years old, he was already well versed in the neighbourhood, so after 10-15 minutes, the boy was already at home.
The ground floor of