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“Father, I have noticed an odd shift in your behavior lately,” Logan said. The comment was rather blunt and out-of-the-blue, as many of Logan’s statements tended to be. He had his binder open in his lap, open to the color-coded journals where he kept tabs on people.
It was a bit of an odd quirk, one of which Logan was rather self-conscious. There was a navy journal in which Logan kept his own personal notes, a bright red one that Logan had confessed was about Roman, an orange one for his current teacher, a gray one for his classmates, and a pale blue one which Patton suspected was about him. As curious as he was, he’d never asked, worried about prying. But he’d seen how much the notebooks helped Logan in empathizing with other people, especially kids his age, so he tried his best to be encouraging.
Patton kept his eyes on the road, partially because he knew he needed to for safety, but mostly to resist the temptation to steal a peek at Logan’s current notebook. “Oh, really kiddo?” He said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “How’s that?”
Logan chewed on his pencil eraser, deep in thought. “There has been a notable uptick in the amount of hours you spend preparing for your PTA meetings. If it were just more cooking I would attribute it to rehearsal for the school bake sale, but you have also been doing online research on meeting subjects. You’ve even gotten your psychology textbooks out of the attic,” he said, scribbling something down on what appeared to be some sort of schedule.
“Oh, well uh,” Patton bit his lip, a bit surprised. Now that he thought about it, Logan wasn’t wrong. While Patton normally spent his free-time watching cartoons with the boys, now once he was done cleaning the house he found himself trying to prepare for the next week’s confrontation with Deceit—rounding up award-winning family recipes, making lists of possibly relevant puns, and even taking notes to prepare for the inevitable arguments. Patton didn’t consider himself a smart guy, and the research had been making his head spin, but the idea of being shown up by Deceit fueled him on.
He really had been sidetracked by this whole silly rivalry thing, hadn’t he?
“Yeah, kiddo, I suppose your old pop’s gotten a bit carried away!” He said sheepishly. “I’m sorry, have I not been spending enough time with you and Roman? I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”
Logan frowned, fiddling with his glasses. “No, you are spending adequate time with us. I just find it strange,” he said.
Patton paused for a second, wishing he could pull up the dictionary on his phone. But no phones while driving, he had to set a good example. “Did you say, ‘dad’equate?”
Logan pulled an exaggerated face of disgust, groaning. “No, adequate! It means enough, just as I have had enough of your dad jokes.”
Chuckling, Patton leaned over to wrap an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “C’mon, you can stand to learn all those big words, but a little joke and you’re all up in arms?”
“I am ashamed to be in this car with you,” Logan said, sticking out his lower lip. For all his brains, it was easy to forget how young he really was—right up until he started pouting.
“Hi ashamed, I’m dad!” Patton said, pretending not to be delighted when Logan bit his lip trying not to giggle. And sure, Logan hit his arm for the awful joke, but it was easily more than worth it.
Patton pulled into the school parking lot, killing the gas. He checked the clock—half-past six. “Alright, Roman’s play tryouts should be wrapping up! I’m gonna run in and grab him, then we can go out for McDonalds. Do you want to come in, or stay out here?”
Logan flipped to a different section of his binder—the section focused on schoolwork rather than people. “I’ll be working on math,” he said. “And please reconsider, McDonalds is not very nutritious.”
“Alright kiddo,” Patton said, ruffling Logan’s hair. “I’ll be back for I’ve even left!” And while Logan muttered about that being physically impossible, Patton locked up the car and headed toward the school theatre.
The elementary school was nearly abandoned in the evening, but he ended up here after hours fairly often, driving the boys to and from their clubs and activities. He had no trouble navigating through the empty halls and to the auditorium, with a handful of students eagerly talking on stage.
Patton started drifting in the direction of a few parents he recognized from the PTA, watching the stage to see if he could catch sight of Roman. Hand-made posters hung throughout the room, announcing the older student’s upcoming performance of the Robin Hood musical.
It was obvious the auditions were over, students sitting on the stage steps and happily chatting as the drama teacher cleaned up. Normally, Roman would be in the thick of it, eagerly talking about the upcoming play and occasionally trying to critique the acting of the other kids. But even as Patton walked closer, there was no sight of him.
Thump.
Patton looked down to see a short boy hugging his leg. After a second, he recognized the over-sized gray hoodie and realized with a small spark of affection that it was Virgil. He looked up to see a familiar smartly-dressed man half sprinting over, crouching down beside Virgil.
“Virgil, you can’t go running off like that, you could get lost. I’m quite sorry, he’s—“ Deceit looked up at Patton, squinting. “Oh, it’s you.”
Virgil looked up, smiling nervously. “Mister Patton, I did the audition,” he said, looking unsure whether to laugh or to cry.
Patton decided not to acknowledge Deceit’s blunt greeting. “Well kiddo, that’s great! I bet you did wonderfully. Is this your first time?”
“It was Mister— um, it was dad’s idea,” Virgil said, nodding. He stepped back, reaching a hand out to his side absently. Obediently, Deceit took the hand, holding it gently. “Remus, my brother, he was going to anyway, and dad said it could help me meet people. It was really scary. I threw up,” he said, wiping at his nose.
Deceit smiled at Virgil fondly. “You were very brave,” he said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You did amazingly.”
Patton watched the interaction with a sense of awed disbelief. It was such a contrast, the cold razor-sharp wit that Deceit turned against everyone and the gentle careful affection he showed his son. It was almost baffling that the same traits could exist in one person. “Well way to go kid!” He said warmly. He glanced up again, noting with growing concern there was still no sign of Roman. “Did you find out what part you got?”
“Soldier number one,” Virgil said solemnly. “I have six whole lines, and if I mess them up, the whole play will be ruined and all my classmates are gonna hate me forever.”
Deceit put his free hand on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing. “Then we’ll practice your lines. And if your classmates do hate you then I’ll let Remus change the handsoap in the school bathroom for syrup,” he said. “Now, shall we celebrate? You did something very brave today, and your brother is pleased with himself as well. It seems only fair we go somewhere fun tonight.”
Virgil stopped to take a deep breath, then nodded, smiling a little. “Okay. It was nice to see you Mister Patton,” he said, wiping at his eyes.
“Bye bye, kiddo! And good luck learning your lines, I believe in you!” Patton said warmly. As Deceit led Virgil away, presumably to find his brother, he glanced over his shoulder, giving Patton a nod of acknowledgment.
It wasn’t exactly a kind word or a thank you, but in a way, it was the warmest exchange the two had shared.
For a moment, Patton found his feet stuck to the auditorium floor.
Then, of course, he remembered he hadn’t come here to see Deceit or even to cheer on little Virgil, but to pick up his own son. He walked up to the stage, checking behind the curtains. It didn’t take long to find Roman—sat on the piano bench, sprawled across the piano, sobbing.
Uh oh.
Patton sat down cautiously, gently resting a comforting hand on Roman’s hand. He waited for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Kiddo? Are you alright?”
“No!” Roman said, lifting his head and gasping for breath amidst the sobs. “I can never act again! My career has been ruined! I’ll never perform in another play and Disney will never cast me as a prince and I’m going to get a stupid job and get fat and old and ugly!”
Oh boy, it was a dramatic breakdown. These were always tricky. Sometimes it was just Roman being Roman, and the promise of ice cream was enough to snap him out of it, but sometimes it was a defensive wall thrown up over top of a deeper issue, and there was never really a way to tell which it was. “I’m sure that’s not true,” Patton said gently. “You’re such a good actor! All the teachers say so. What makes you say that?”
Roman sniffled, wiping at his eyes, shoulders heaving. “They’re wrong! All of them! I failed!” He sobbed.
Patton knew every kid was guaranteed a spot in the play if they wanted it—he’d been the one to instate that rule, after all, so Roman certainly couldn’t have failed the audition. But he also knew Roman would consider a role in the chorus with no actual lines a fate worse than death. That was the problem when both your sons were incredibly ambitious. “Come on, Roman,” he said, patting him. “I wanna make you feel better, but you gotta talk to me.”
“You don’t understand!” Roman wailed. “This was the best performance of my life! The passion, the artistry! It was the best performance I’ve ever done and it wasn’t enough!”
“Roman,” Patton repeated, brow furrowed. “What happened?”
Roman looked up at him with red eyes and tear stains, biting his lip. “I read the script, and Prince John has the most lines, and I’ve never been the main villain before! I wanted to be Prince John this time,” he said. His eyes began to well up with tears again.
“I read all the Robin Hood books! I even asked you to get the Disney Robin Hood so I could watch Prince John! I’ve been practicing so, so much!”
“And you didn’t get the role?” Patton asked sympathetically.
“And I didn’t get it!” Roman wailed. “They gave it to some kid I never met! And he laughed and said he’d never even read the play or practiced! And he got the role! I worked so hard, this isn’t fair!”
Patton sighed, wrapping his arms around Roman in a hug. “I’m sorry kiddo. I know it’s hard, but you aren’t gonna get every role you shoot for. Nobody wins every single time. I’m proud of you from trying your best. What role did they give you? I’m sure you’ll do an incredible job, no matter what you’re working with.”
Roman sniffed, slumping into the hug. “Robin Hood,” he mumbled.
Patton chuckled in disbelief. Of course, why was he not surprised? “Kiddo, that’s great! A lot of kids don’t even get big roles, and the whole play is about Robin Hood!"
Roman wiped at his eyes, frowning. “I know! And I’m probly being a big dummy for getting upset, but I wanted to be Prince John so bad!”
“Think of it this way. You’re so brave and heroic and cool, the teachers couldn’t imagine you as the villain. You’re too much of a hero to be the bad guy,” Patton said, still laughing. “Robin Hood is a great role. Remember first grade? How you didn’t even have a speaking line, and you were so upset? You’ve come so far kiddo!”
Roman paused, a little smile crossing his face. “It is pretty cool to be the good guy,” he said, sounding finally calm. “Am I really brave and cool?”
“The coolest,” Patton said, picking Roman up in his arms and getting to his feet. He tried to keep a straight face and a smile but wow, his boys were getting big. The idea that soon they’d be too big to carry made his heart ache a little. “I know you don’t feel it all the time, but I promise, even if you didn’t get any role at all, that wouldn’t mean you’re bad! Logan and I would both still love you with all our hearts.”
Roman leaned into the hug, wrapping his arms around Patton’s neck. “Thanks, pop. …Do you think the boy playing Prince John would wanna be theatre rivals? I always wanted a rival. And he actually was really a good bad guy,” he mumbled.
Patton laughed at that, smiling. “Well, so long as you’re friendly rivals, I think that’d be swell! Maybe invite him over to our house sometime, I can make popcorn while you practice lines.”
Roman sighed, his dramatic meltdown finally overcome. “That sounds really fun. Hey, can we go out to McDonald’s for dinner?”
Grinning, Patton hoisted Roman up onto his shoulders. “Sure thing, kiddo! You’ll just have to help me convince Logan to get in on it.”