TRIP WITH THE BOY
ALM 92, August 2026
SHORT STORIES
Calum hid the gun under the mattress before looking for Lucas in the cabana. Lucas was a good boy. His mother had finally relented and let Calum take him on vacation. The Caribbean seemed like a good choice. He looked over the patrons scattered under the pockets of sunlight beaming through the palms that sheltered them. Were they real? Couples and families beamed with so much joy that they emulated the sun. Calum only saw the sun on days he wasn’t hungover. The ocean created a white noise that almost danced around everyone. Calum held back the liquor that threatened to come back up.
Calum squinted in pain and scanned the room until he found his son at the bar. His tall frame hunched forward on the counter, with his legs hanging off the tall chair. He had grown so much since they last spent time together. He was surrounded by four empty glasses of pina colada. Calum was grateful he purchased the all-inclusive package. Lucas’s head hung low and annoyed. He looked around with content eyes, like his father, watching the people.
What an alien planet this trip had been to Callum compared to back home. The luxury that bleeds through every excursion, dinner plate, and ability to order as many pina coladas wanted.
“You think you have enough yet?” Calum asked stumbling into the chairs surrounding him. He pulled his sons head into his chest and planted a kiss on his crown.
Lucas quickly jerked his head out of his father’s embrace.
“Dad, get off of me… Are you drunk?” Lucas asked. Luke had crisp red cheeks. His hair was full of salt and he already looked lighter. Only thing continuing to hold him back from having a good time was that teenage hatred that pulsed through him.
“No, not at all. I’m sorry I just slept longer than I meant to,” Calum said through a hiccup. A bartender then approached the father and son, both hunched forward.
“Can I have another?” Lucas requested.
“I’ll have a whiskey. Neat,” Calum said.
“Of course you will,” Lucas said. He shifted to turn away from his father.
“Let’s try to enjoy this, okay. Like old times,” he said, turning to face Lucas. “I’m trying here, son.”
Lucas looked around the room behind them.
“You’re blowing all your money that you don’t have. That’s not trying,” Lucas whispered.
Calum heard the statement, like a knife cutting through the peaceful breeze. Lucas saw this as his father’s reckless spending. Calum saw this as his last trip with his child, before he went through the choice he made a few months ago. He wouldn’t be around for the rest of Luca’s life. This wouldn’t make it okay. But it would leave Lucas with a good memory. Not just the memory of the shell he had been for most of his life.
“Tomorrow we’re going fishing. I promise,” Calum said leaning in.
“How about after dinner, we head to the tackle shop. I’ll buy you a brand-new fishing rod. Any fishing rod you want.”
“Whatever, I don’t care,” Lucas said without looking at his father.
“Lucas, you could be more appreciative. This attitude is disappointing,” Calum said with a deep breath as the whiskey burned his throat.
“About time you know what that feels like. I know the feeling too well,” Lucas said. He scoffed quickly, and he once again looked back towards the room to watch it patrons.
Calum set the glass down and felt a second dagger rip through the air. He felt the warmth creep back into his body.
“Son, fine you win. We will do whatever you want. If you want to sit here and hate me, do just that,” Calum said and he grabbed Lucas by the back of the neck. Lucas’s eyes opened wide at the physical contact from his father. He gripped it with great strength. He needed Lucas to enjoy this trip, to remember this trip, to know that he loved him.
“I know I’m not the best the be around,” Calum started to say, “but I need you to know that I love you, and no matter what happens, nothing will ever change that. No matter where I am, I will always be your dad, and you will always be my son.”
Lucas finally looked his father in the eyes and saw that they were full of tears. Although he had seen his father drunk countless times, seeing his father shed emotion was a first.
“Just drink less, will you?” Lucas said with a hint a compassion.
“I’ll try.”
Briana Conde is an Orlando, Florida native. She is a U.S Army Veteran who strives to live and write with the individuality that was not allowed as a servicemember. When she is not writing, she can be found traveling to obscure corners of the world. She is a curious woman who writes from lived and witnessed experiences.
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