SON OF A BISCUIT

AN: I apologize in advance for this little ditty. I'm still just a little hacked off, as you'll see if you decide to read on. Maybe it's the forced social isolation? Yeah. Let's blame it on the coronavirus.

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"Ms. Dineen? This is Mr. Pendergrass, your son's Social Studies and English teacher. If you have a few minutes, I'd like to speak to you about Ralph."

Paige's heart sank. Almost nothing good ever followed those words and recently the number of positive conversations with Ralph's teachers had dropped to zero.

"Yes, okay." She saved the contract she'd been typing up and braced herself. "I have a few minutes now."

"It's about his latest assignment…"

She winced. "Is he still not turning things in? I'm sorry. I did talk to him about it. It's just…"

"No. Ralph handed this one in right on time. Frankly, I'm a little concerned about the content though."

Was this a genius thing? Did Ralph's teacher misunderstand somehow? That would be a welcome relief. She leaned forward in her office chair, staring blankly at her desk and traced the smooth wooden grain absently with a finger. "How so?" She asked, even though she was pretty sure she didn't really want to know the answer.

"Well, the assignment was to write about what family means to you. With today's changing social mores, I thought it would be an interesting topic and the class could share their different views. That, in turn, it would promote healthy discussion, etc."

"Uh huh." It was a good assignment for any normal kid. The problem was they weren't dealing with a normal kid. Paige felt a headache brewing. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sincerely wished the man would get to the point already.

"Ralph wrote 'nothing'."

"Nothing? I thought you said he did the assignment."

"He did. What I meant to say is… What he actually wrote was family means nothing to him."

Paige was stunned speechless for a moment. "Could you…" She swallowed past her suddenly constricted throat so she could ask, "Could you tell me what else he wrote? Please?"

"If you want, I can email a copy to you so you can read it for yourself."

Paige was convinced that would be horrible. "That would be great. Thanks."

They exchanged a few more words about depression in teens and resources for getting help before they hung up. Paige dropped her phone to her desk then dropped her face into her hands. This parenting thing wasn't for cowards and she'd done more than her fair share of floundering and messing up especially lately.

A notification popped up. The dreaded email was now in her inbox. Time to face the music. Paige took a deep breath and forced herself to open it.

What Does Family Mean to Me?

By Ralph Dineen

Family means nothing to me.

DNA bonds, marriage, and even close friendships are a fabrication of the media and society to give people purpose and hope. They never last because humans are fickle.

And worse, it is a lie when people say they love you. What does that even mean if they only stay with you as long as things are good and you make them feel happy?

They might tell you they are your family when everything is going well. You fool yourself into thinking you are safe. You kid yourself that you will always have a place to belong and be accepted.

But then you do something wrong, or maybe a lot of little things wrong. It might be unintentional. Or you might have personality flaws that prevent you from understanding how to navigate relationships. Or you might process things differently than your other so-called family members.

That's when those same people get annoyed and impatient with you. Then they abandon you.

If you're lucky that's all they do, but sometimes they try to hurt you on purpose. Sometimes they set out to destroy the only thing you have left.

Forging a tribe and/or finding a mate? Those actions are nothing more than animal tendencies hard-wired into our primitive brains. We are designed to seek protection from joining a pack or herd. Fortunately, a powerful intellect can overcome animal instincts. Therefore, I can view this through the lens of science and make a rational decision based on my experiences. My conclusion is I no longer see the value in forming these kinds of connections now or in the future. The end result is not worth the momentary gain.

Paige was full-on weeping by the time she read the entirety of Ralph's paper. Where had her head been? She had no clue he'd been wrestling with these sorts of thoughts and feelings. She could tell he'd taken the break up hard. She assumed he was only temporarily angry and being a typical moody teen. There was nothing typical about this.

Toby stuck his head around the door and asked if everything was okay. He must've heard her sniffling.

"No." She blew her nose on a tissue then swiftly stood and grabbed her jacket and purse. "I need to talk to my son."

She brushed past her friend and darted out the door of the brand new Centipede offices without an explanation to the others or even a backward glance. She had what felt like a million pressing work issues that urgently needed her attention, but this issue couldn't be put off another second.

Ralph had texted earlier to let her know he'd made it home. A one word text as usual. 'Here', was all it said because that covered her requirement of him. Terse, one word replies were all Paige got from him these days.

The boy had been fairly receptive to her after she'd broken up with… her ex. They had discussed her experiences pretty openly at first. He'd asked a lot of questions and even begged her to reconsider once. But as the days went on, he grew more and more quiet and distant. And when the former team made the decision to open Centipede Partners, he'd shut down entirely. He wouldn't speak to any of them beyond what was absolutely required and he started getting into trouble at school too. He'd stopped doing his school work and he was no longer participating in class except to 'correct' his teachers. She tried to be understanding, hoping he only needed time to adjust to the new circumstances.

This paper served as a wake-up call. Ralph was obviously retreating. If she didn't intervene and quickly, he would regress completely into his reticent nine year old self. Her mothering EQ was screaming the truth at her.

Paige's car came screeching into a parking space in her condo's lot some twenty minutes later. After she and… her ex split, she'd thanked her lucky stars she'd decided to keep separate addresses even though… her ex asked her and Ralph to move in with him on several different occasions during their year long relationship. She'd always had some compelling reason she needed to keep the condo each time he'd asked and she'd convinced herself she was glad.

In this particular moment, however, she found herself wishing, not for the first time if she was being truthful, she had her ex around to help her translate her increasingly unfathomable son. Even the other geniuses at Centipede hadn't been able to connect with Ralph in a meaningful way since everything fell apart.

Paige was going over and over the skills her ex had taught her in her head as she approached the front door. She wished she could emulate his ability to shut down his emotions too. It was necessary to keep a cool head and not lose her temper if she had a prayer of reaching her son.

The front door swung open and Paige stepped into the foyer. She spied Ralph slouched on the sofa, holding his tablet upright on his knees. She made a show of dropping her purse on the little table in the hallway and hanging up her coat. But he was fully engrossed in whatever was on the screen and didn't even acknowledge her presence. Every once in a while he would scroll up or down, his eyes rapidly tracking the binary code as it whizzed past.

"Hello, Ralph," She tried as she made her way into the living room.

He grunted, not looking up.

She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth for a second then tried again. "I'm home early because…"

She paused but his eyes never left the tablet in his lap.

Patience all but gone, she snatched the device away from him and set it on an end table. "We need to talk."

Ralph scowled at her briefly. Then he sighed and his expression became instantly bored and insolent. "So talk." He shrugged then began winding a loose thread on the leg of his jeans around and around one finger, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Ralph, I don't want to talk at you. I need you to hear me and I'd like to know your thoughts. It's called a conversation. Remember those?" Paige perched on the edge of the couch near him. He shifted away.

Another shrug. "I guess."

"Sweetie, I heard from your English teacher today."

Paige paused hoping Ralph would say something, but he continued twisting the string on his finger and didn't respond.

She gave up when the silence began to lengthen. "He called about your paper. The one you wrote about family."

Still nothing. They both watched as the end of his finger turned increasingly red.

After a bit she asked, "Did you really mean those things you wrote? Do you really feel that way about family? About connecting with other people?"

Ralph unwound the thread. "Yes," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Why?"

"Because it's true."

"Honey, it's not, though. We're surrounded by people who genuinely care about us, aren't we? What about Sylvester? And Happy and Toby? They're our friends. They've stuck by us this whole time. They continue to be there for us now. I consider them family. And what about you and me? We've always had each other, haven't we?"

"Yay."

Her tolerance was at an end. "Stop! Just stop it! Would you look at me? What is your problem? Why are you shutting me out again?"

Paige gasped when he did look up because his eyes were filled with hatred. "Why shouldn't I? Every one of you did it to Walter." His chin jutted out belligerently.

She gaped at him for a couple of beats. "I explained to you what he did. It's not the same situation and you know it."

"It is. Walter and I are alike, Mom. Sure, everyone wants me around now, but what if I ever royally mess up? I struggle with my EQ too. Every one of you would walk out and never look back. Love," he scoffed, "It's stupid for people like us to even try it."

Paige held out a hand, wanting to touch her little boy who wasn't so little any more, to reassure him he would never be abandoned. Her hand dropped back to the cushion when he speared her with an angry look. "Baby, I know it's hard for you to understand…"

"No. I understand perfectly. You guys claimed to love Walter. To be his family. His friends. He messed up and you ditched him. Then you tried to destroy his company. Am I wrong about any of that?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. But he'd been lying and he wouldn't listen. He's so immature. Ralph, you aren't that much like him. You won't have those kinds of problems relating to other people because we were able to help you develop your EQ much earlier…"

"Precisely," Ralph stabbed an accusatory finger in his mother's direction. "And how were you able to do that? How were you able to recognize my abilities and get me to open up? If we hadn't run into Walter in the diner that day, if he hadn't given you a job, what then?"

While Paige opened and closed her mouth trying in vain to form a plausible argument, the boy stood and stalked out of the room. An instant later, she heard his bedroom door slam.

She couldn't even find it in herself to be mad at him. Not when he was absolutely right.

Paige found herself asking what Walter would do. With hot tears filling her eyes and spilling down her face, she reached for her phone deciding she'd better ask him.

Just as soon as she asked for his forgiveness.