![\"4656382222_192c14f625_o\"](\"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/05\/4656382222_192c14f625_o.jpg\" "\\"4656382222_192c14f625_o\\"")
<\/p>\nBy Sam Jordison.<\/p>\n
At last, Ben’s father spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to show you the swans. It was round here we saw them wasn’t it?”<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess.”<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know that their Dad has gone now?”<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.”<\/p>\n
\u201cThe little ones just follow their Mum now. She’s all they need really. We might have seen them if it wasn’t for this fog.”<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t mind.”<\/p>\n
\u201cNo?”<\/p>\n
They fell silent again. The fog had come in quickly. They’d first seen swirls five minutes ago, rolling towards them from the sea. Now they were enveloped. All Ben could make out was a few metres of dark water, the shadows of the reed-banks and the back of his father’s canoe. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t give a stuff for the swans. He liked this world under a blanket.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to tell you something about those swans.”<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t mind, Dad.” <\/p>\n
\u201cWell, still.”<\/p>\n
\u201cThere will always be more swans. You’ll be able to show them to me again.”<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, that’s the thing\u2026”<\/p>\n
Ben heard a fish jump somewhere ahead of them.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you see it?” Ben asked, but his father was still stuck on the swans.<\/p>\n
\u201cThose swans, you see. There comes a time when they have to grow up\u2026”<\/p>\n
\u201cDad I’m not that mad on swans, you know.”<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I’m trying to tell you something. Forget it. What are you mad on?”<\/p>\n
The boy thought for a while. <\/p>\n
\u201cBras,” he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus Christ, Ben. I’m your father. Don’t talk to me about bras.”<\/p>\n
\u201cWell Paul says you’re a freak if you don’t like bras.”<\/p>\n
\u201cPaul’s not so right in himself, himself though is he?”<\/p>\n
\u201cHis parents split up and he got dirty.”<\/p>\n
\u201cOh.” <\/p>\n
Somewhere in the hidden distance, a goose started honking. Somewhere else, another replied.<\/p>\n
\u201cFog horns,” said Ben. \u201cThey’re like fog horns.”<\/p>\n
\u201cThey always spook me,” said his father. \u201cDon’t you think it’s eerie when it’s like this?”<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat’s eerie?”<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, fog and ghosts and shadows and haunting little noises.”<\/p>\n
Another fish shot out of the water \u2014 right next to Ben’s canoe. He jumped in surprise and swore: “Shit!”<\/p>\n
His father laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou see?”<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess.”<\/p>\n
They paddled on, side to side now. After a while, his father said:<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t think we’re going to find them. Why don’t we turn back?”<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.”<\/p>\n
\u201cListen son.” He didn’t call Ben son, not usually. \u201cListen. You remember I told you about when my Dad died.”<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.”<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd how I acted?”<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said you went funny for a while.”<\/p>\n
\u201cThat’s right. I was a bit older than you. About 15. I got into some trouble. I stopped working so much at school. And took up with a bad crowd. You remember?”<\/p>\n
\u201cI remember. But you turned out okay, didn’t you?”<\/p>\n
Ben’s father dug his oar into the water and kept on paddling for a long time. Eventually, he said: \u201cThanks. Thank you. Did I?”<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did. You’re you, aren’t you?”<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t know. But thank you. Thank you, anyway. But, it took too long to become the me I am now. I missed a lot. I could have gone to university, you know. They always said I was bright enough\u2026 But by the time I wanted to, it was already too late. I had a job. I had your Mum. You were on the way\u2026”<\/p>\n
\u201cHey.”<\/p>\n
\u201cI’m not saying I’m not glad. It just held me in. Look. What I mean is, I don’t want you to be limited like I was. I don’t want you to limit yourself. You could do whatever you like, and I want you to do it.”<\/p>\n
\u201cI will Dad.”<\/p>\n
His father turned to look at him. Drops of mist glistened on his red beard and around his eyebrows. Like fairy glitter. But Ben didn’t laugh. There was something in his father’s expression that made his stomach twist inside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want you to do it even if I’m not there,” his father, still looking at him too hard.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you’ll always be here. You’re the healthiest man I know. Don’t worry about that Dad. You’re fine. Aren’t you? Dad?”<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I’m fine.”<\/p>\n
\u201cWell then.”<\/p>\n
Ben’s father turned back around and carried on paddling. Soon they emerged from the channel onto the main river. The water looked still, but the current was powerful and they sped down towards the lock, his father taking such long strokes that Ben had to put all his strength into keeping up, and he fell behind, and his arms began to ache.<\/p>\n
They got out just before the lock and started back to the car.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don’t think you understood me,” said Ben’s father. \u201cI wish I could have showed you those swans.”<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don’t even know that about the swans,” said Ben, all in a rush. \u201cHow do you know their Dad has gone? You don’t know anything about the swans. You’re making it up. But you’re wrong. Their Dad is still with them, I bet. You’re just making it up and I hate you.”<\/p>\n
\u201cThe swans aren’t the important thing,” said his father. \u201cForget the fucking swans.”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
ABOUT THE AUTHOR<\/B> By Sam Jordison<\/strong>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-25754","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-flash-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25754","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=25754"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/25754\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=25754"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=25754"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.3ammagazine.com\/3am\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=25754"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nSam Jordison<\/a> is a regular contributor to The Guardian<\/em><\/a>. He is the author and editor of several books including Sod That: 103 Things Not to Do Before You Die<\/em> and Crap Towns<\/em><\/a>. He still hasn’t written a novel.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"![\"\"](\"http:\/\/3pmmagazine.files.wordpress.com\/2010\/03\/sam-jordison-001.jpg\" "\\"Sam-Jordison-001\\"")
\u201cI don’t think you understood me,\u201d\u009d said Ben’s father. \u201cI wish I could have showed you those swans.\u201d\u009d \u201cYou don’t even know that about the swans,\u201d\u009d said Ben, all in a rush. \u201cHow do you know their Dad has gone? You don’t know anything about the swans. You’re making it up. But you’re wrong. Their Dad is still with them, I bet. You’re just making it up and I hate you.\u201d\u009d \u201cThe swans aren’t the important thing,\u201d\u009d said his father. \u201cForget the fucking swans.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n