Like Father Like Son


A removed scene from Skepticism

    Five year old Adrian awakened to the harmonious chorus of birds. His tummy rumbled from the savory aroma of bacon and eggs that filled his nostrils. It was early Sunday morning, and he eagerly anticipated Sunday morning services at Harvest Church. He loved the way he was treated by the other children in Sunday school because his father was the pastor.

    He padded down the hallway of the stucco house smiling at the numerous family portraits that adorned the hall. Each was a testament of his family’s comfortable life. He spotted his mother as she set the plates of food on the wooden table, and he leapt into her arms. She carried him to his father who stood before a large ornate mirror as he adjusted the navy blue tie that flattered his black suit.

    “What tie should Adrian wear?” Catalina said as Horacio ruffled his son’s soft, black hair. 

    “The navy one like mine.” He grinned at his wife. Catalina set Adrian down in front of the mirror, and his father settled his hands on Adrian’s tiny shoulders. As both father and son peered into the mirror, their resemblance was unmistakable from the same eye shape to facial structure, although Adrian shared his mother’s darker shade of brown eyes and hairline, he was a younger version of him.

    “Adrian is just like me.” He grinned.

* * *

    His eyes peeled open as he sat in the passenger’s seat of an Outlander headed to Yale University. Those words his father had spoken thirteen years ago rattled him. He gritted his teeth and shook his head as he remembered his father. He was nothing like that narcissistic, hypocrite who had robbed him and his mother of everything.


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