GROWING UP
by John R. Little

* * * *

Harry Selkirk was 33 years old before he realized that something was missing. Not that he was missing much, mind you — he was a successful chartered accountant, and nobody could miss the twinkle in Old Man Kolfax’s eye when he watched Harry. He would be made the next partner of the firm.

Harry owned a silver BMW and lived in a huge ranch-style house in North Vancouver overlooking the Pacific. Although the house was mostly owned by his bank, Harry did own outright a modest cottage in the interior, where he faithfully spent three weeks each summer, fishing and enjoying the quiet.

But on his 33rd birthday, he had a revelation so clear it jolted him awake at 6 A.M., an hour earlier than normal.

Harry wanted to have a son.

Not a daughter and not even a wife, although she would likely come with the package, but a son. Harry could remember his mother’s overpowering voice booming when he had left home. “Gotta get yourself married, boy. Get yourself some kids. They’ll keep you young at heart for the rest of your days.”

Well, Harry thought. I don’t know about that. But he did know he wanted a son.

Harry had rarely dated women. When he was fifteen, he had charted out his own future carefully, culminating with his own accounting firm by the time he was forty. So far, everything was dead on track, and it irked him that he hadn’t thought enough to put a son into the plans.

As he was shaving, Harry ran through the possibilities. He could afford to hire a woman for a year to bear his son, but that seemed a bit too crass.

He could adopt, but that wouldn’t be right, either; he needed a boy that carried his genes.

There didn’t seem to be many other alternatives: he would have to get married.

He cut himself with his razor as he realized this. Damn, he thought. Who would want to marry me?

The question remained unanswered until he went to work that morning and said hello to Cathy, the office receptionist.

“Hi,” she answered.

Harry was about to walk past her into his office when he looked back at her more closely. Pretty, more or less. Nice personality. “Would you be interested in dinner tonight?” he asked.

Harry and Cathy were married three months later. Harry woke up the day after with a smile on his face. He knew that Cathy was now carrying his son.

Nine months later, on Harry’s thirty-fourth birthday, Harry Selkirk, Jr., was born.

Harry, Sr., doted on the baby to the exclusion of all else. He immediately took his three weeks’ holiday to play with baby Harry, spending every minute with him. He wouldn’t allow Cathy to breast-feed the baby, since that would take him away from his father for fifteen minutes at a time.

It was Hell for Harry to finish his holidays. He phoned in sick with a fictitious flu to add an extra week with the child, but after that he ran out of excuses and had to go back to the office.

“Babies must agree with you,” said Old Man Kolfax when Harry showed up at the accounting firm. “You look great.”

“They say kids keep you young,” said Harry.

For six months, Harry dreaded night-time, since that meant morning would soon come, and he would have to leave Junior for eight straight hours to go to work.

Cathy grew more and more frustrated and soon gave up and left Harry. She had been totally ignored since the baby was born and just wanted to get away. Harry didn’t try to stop her, but rather encouraged her to leave. He went in to work the next day with Junior in his arms and smiled as he handed a neatly-typed resignation letter to Kolfax.

“You can’t leave,” said Kolfax in disbelief. “We were about to promote you.”

Harry knew he had to leave. People would soon begin to notice too much. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got more important things on my mind.”

“But what about your papers and —”

“Help yourself to whatever you like. So long.”

Harry stopped at the first realtor that he saw and asked them to sell his house as soon as possible. They scrambled to find a buyer a week later, and Harry made a thirty-thousand-dollar profit on the sale. He moved all his belongings out to his cottage and settled in to enjoy the peace and quiet.

Harry loved spending all of his time with his son. When Harry, Jr., was 11 months old, he started to walk, and he was talking steadily soon thereafter.

Harry held a joint birthday party for them both. He was brimming with joy when his son turned one and he turned back to 33. Junior seemed to like the party, even though there were only the two of them present. Harry had brought out party hats and bought the boy a Cabbage Patch Kid for a present.

The years passed quickly, and with each that passed, Junior grew to be more and more like a little boy instead of a baby. By the time he was 5, Harry had turned back to 29 and had lost all of the excess weight that he had put on. He felt trim and spent most of his time running through the wilderness with Junior or teaching him how to swim in the lake. Winters were a bit tiresome, since he was afraid to keep the boy out in the harsh wind and cold snow for long periods at a time, but that only made them appreciate the hot, dry summers all the more.

Harry Junior loved his dad in equal part. He never knew that living alone wasn’t normal, although he was always excited when they would go for their monthly grocery trips into town.

Every second year, Harry would change the grocer that he used, since he didn’t want any questions being asked.

By the time that Harry was 24 and Junior was 10, the townspeople started to think of them as brothers, rather than father and son. Even Harry sometimes thought of it that way.

Harry and Harry, Jr., both celebrated their seventeenth birthday on the same day. To mark the occasion, they double-dated two 16-year-old girls from town. Harry’s date was a blonde girl who worked at the grocery store, and Harry, Jr.’s was a darkly tanned girl who worked part-time at the tennis club. They went to an evening showing of The Night of the Living Dead and then talked the girls into skinny-dipping off the end of a deserted pier.

The two boys shared a secret smile as they dropped their dates off later that night. They knew they couldn’t date the girls for long without raising suspicions, but it was fun while it lasted. Both thought it was the best birthday they had ever spent, although Harry, Sr., sometimes had trouble remembering some of his older birthdays.

At 15, Harry started shaving only on alternate days, and soon gave it up altogether as his facial hair pulled back into his chin.

As Junior grew older, he started to pick up the responsibilities that his father could no longer handle. He was the one who now organized the shopping trips, holding his father’s hand as they crossed the busy roads.

By the time that Harry, Sr., was 4, he was small enough for his son to cuddle with him. He had only vague recollections of his past, which were no more real than the flighty imaginings that any little boy has. Harry, Jr., loved the boy with all his heart and spent every minute with him, racing through the forest, wading in the lake, or whispering lullabies at night.

Harry, Sr., turned into a cranky baby, but by the time he was 11 months old, Junior hardly noticed. He carried his dad everywhere they went, although they didn’t go quite as far as they had in the past, when Harry had been bigger. Junior put on quite a bit of weight from the lack of activity, and small worry wrinkles crept into his brow.

And soon, Harry Selkirk, Sr., disappeared.

Harry, Jr., was heartbroken, even though he had known that the day was coming. It was his 34th birthday, and all he could think about was his dead little father.

Junior spent a depressed month, drinking steadily. Finally, he managed to accept his father’s death and built a small monument at the back of the cottage, near the woods.

He was lonely and looked up the little brunette he had started to date on his 17th birthday. They had kept in touch over the years, although nothing serious had ever developed. She still worked at the tennis club.

Harry asked her out more often, since he had nothing else to do with his time, and a couple of months later, they were married.

Harry, Jr., smiled the morning after their wedding night. He knew that his wife was now carrying his son.