Bath Water - Brandon

Hired security.

Though you wouldn't think it for looking at me, that's what I am. I work for the wealthy. Not the wealthy you hear about in news and tabloids. Those people so wealthy you just don't hear about them. Waiters know them. They come in and eat their food quietly and pay cash. Cold hard cash, without flaunting it. Some are more ruthless than others.

This wasn't what I was getting at. My business with the security of my family. I didn't used to be so prosperous. I didn't used to have family so close. I didn't used to have the security.
My problem is not with my past, and the days as a child soldier.

It's my son, Eli, second birthday. Two. Two years old. His mother's passed, and I barely even know who she was. But I have this little boy. He came on my door step at six months. I thought he was Cody's or something. He's the wild one. Sort of. I suppose Eli is evidence of my wild side. Heh, I still remember the look he gave me when I accused the son of being his. But Eli was mine.

That's been the hardest part of my life. It was easy for me to love my brother and sister when we found each other again, we had shared pain and suffering, and memories. But here, here was this new thing in the world. My past is buried in blood and I was so scared that I was going to hurt him. But my family, the old and the new have helped me through those worst times. I still struggle with the idea that I have this little boy.

He took his first bath today, by himself. I sat outside the door just in case, thinking. I worried if my little boy was going to fall down and crack his head. I worried if my little boy was going to be stolen from the tub. But the whole time he sat there playing in the bubbles and with his rubber duck.

He made a song up too, out of tune but still a song. He rarely speaks, though I know he speaks well when he does. He just sits there with a big smile and listens.

It will be okay I suppose.

Brandon McMaster