“I cannot believe that son of mine,” James
muttered. Picking up his axe, he left to do some landscape work
on his beloved Notre Dame campus.
Today was the day he
would win the battle with the kudzu vine. Late spring sun doused
the maple trees as he walked through the lovingly cared-for
landscape. Arriving at Fourier Hall’s garden, he set the axe
down and pulled on the vine. Still agitated from last night’s
conversation with his son, James felt he could rip the thing out
with his bare hands.
“Be happy for me, Dad!”
“Happy? I want more for
you!” James paced angrily around the living room, squeezing the
spot between his eyes where he felt a headache starting.
“More? Who could ever
want more than this?”
“Since I work there, you
can go to Notre Dame at a reduced rate. It’s not the life I want
for you, son.”
“It’s not your life.
This is my choice.” James Jr. stormed out of the house, his car
throwing gravel as he aimed it back toward his dorm.
James felt the vine move
and the relief he felt urged him to keep pulling. I’m going
to win this battle. Pain surprised him and he patted his
chest. If I could just sit and rest on that park bench over
there. He picked up his axe, using it like a cane. A few
more steps. Dropping the axe and reaching for the bench, he
fell, striking his head on the arm rest. James died there on his
carefully manicured campus.
“Oh, Dad,” James Jr.
wailed at the funeral. “You’ll never get to see me cheer for the
University of South Carolina.”
