Always Time (Part 1)

He slams the door shut behind him, and smacks his keys onto the table. If ever there had been a worse day for him...

“Rikkert! Are you home, boy?” He yells out as he enters the kitchen. His eyes fall on the dirty dishes in the sink, and he groans. Honestly, life isn’t easy without a woman in the house.

“What’s the prob, Dad?” The young seventeen-year-old steps into the room. He pushes his hand through the messy, black hair that has fallen over his eyes again. His face speaks of a mischievous, young man. Indubitably, his grin has left many a young woman with weak knees. His shirt spans tightly around him, perfectly accentuating his abs and muscles. Any smart mother or father would have immediately termed him ’the bad boy', if they had been looking at him at this exact moment.

“What are you doing?” Richard barks out, as he opens the fridge.

“Homework.” The boy answers innocently.

“Homework, huh? Why are you so dressed up then?” His father asks, as he steps back and slams the fridge door close. The lad glances down, but then answers smoothly.

“Well, I was just finishing up my homework. I was actually thinking about heading out after dinner. Kenneth and I was thinking about getting some more practice in, before the season begins, you know.”

“More practice? It’s evening, boy. You can’t do sports in the dark.” Richard eyes his son suspiciously. One thing he has come to realize by now is that the stories floating around town might be true. His son might be a bad influence...or be busy with the wrong things.

He wasn't religious, like his late wife. But, he did have certain principles that he lived according to. Alcoholicism, drugs, and pre-marital sex was a big 'no' for him. Of course...he only believed all this, since he lost his first child to it. Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and sex broke his little Rosanna. It turned his blossoming rose into a broken and dying one.

And that was when Rosalee fell apart. Her daughter...The one that she raised so solemnly and religiously. The moment that Rosanna's sinful actions were brought to light, his wife's life and faith was shattered. She fell into despair. And when Rosanna died...she preceded her mother to the grave by merely a week.

He sighs and glances at his son again. Goodness, has it already been six months since their deaths? And...Rikkert is now seventeen...A handsome, young man with lots of prospects. But, if he is anything like me, he'll be messed up with girls and late nights very soon.

"Dad? Dad?!" His son's voice pulls him back to reality.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"I was asking if I could leave now," Rikkert rolls his eyes. "I think Kenneth and I will grab a few pizzas later on, so I'll be set for dinner."

"Anybody else joining you?"

"Nah...Well, Katiya might join us. Perhaps..." His eyes glaze over, and for a moment he zones out.

"Katiya?" Richard worriedly steps closer to his son. "Who's she?" Rikkert's attention is immediately brought back to reality, and he gapes like a fish, cursing himself mentally for mentioning her.

"Katiya? Oh...Just Ken's twin sister. She and Rosanna were friends for a bit..." He replies, his voice vague and distant.

"Oh! That Katiya!"

"Dad, do we know any other Katiya? Are there any other Katiya's in town?" Rikkert rolls his eyes.

"Uh...Well, I don't know...Isn't Katiya a common name?" He asks lamely. His son's chuckle and shake of the head confirms that he just asked a stupid question. Of course Katiya isn't a common name; at least, not in their town.

"Okay, I'm going. Can I borrow the car for tonight?" Rikkert walks toward the door, quickly looking over his shoulder.

"Mmm? Oh! No! That girl at Brown's told me that my car is a major hazard to society. I left the car there and hitched a ride with my colleague." His son's eyes widen as he halts and turns around.

"You hitched a ride?! You? Ol' proud Richard Kane?" His son then laughs, as his father's face turns a red shade.

"Ol' proud Richard Kane? Is that what I'm known as?" He then mutters, and shuffles past his son through the door. "Be careful out there, Rikkert. I don't like you walking the streets at night." He warns over his shoulder as he reaches the staircase.

"Oh, come on, Dad! We've got one of the safest towns in the whole country! Nothing's going to happen to me out there!" Rikkert protests laughingly.

"Perhaps...But things are happening in our little town, and it is worrying...I heard that Officer Goodwin has arrested ten people this past week. Drugs..." He eyes his son, noticing how his face turns pale. "You wouldn't know anything about it, right?" He probes.

"Huh? Oh. No!! Not at all! I haven't heard anything about. I mean. Drugs? Doesn't happen in my circles." Rikkert laughs nervously and starts inching his way to the door. "After all, I'm an athlete. If Coach found drugs on us, he would make us dig our graves on the field, then he'll slaughter us with excessive training, and finally he'll bury us in our self-dug graves, making sure to get rid of any evidence. Detective Gill wouldn't be able to find our corpses; not even if she teamed up with Goodwin." He babbles nervously.

"Uh-huh..." His father replies absent-mindedly. "Just remember, boy. There's always time to confess." Rikkert's face turns ghostly-white, and then he swings around and flies out of the house.

Worn and tired, Richard falls to his knees. He folds his hands, and firmly settles his elbows on the bed. His eyes find those of his wife's portrait on the opposite wall.

Rosalee...I messed up...Forgive me...I don't believe the way you do...But tonight...God, if you exist...Hold my boy in Your hands, until I have another chance to speak to him.

Sighing, he drops his head onto his arms, and he closes his eyes. Who am I actually praying to? My wife or the God that I don't believe in?

There's always time to confess...His words return to his mind. It plagues him as he rises and goes to the bathroom. Deep down, something just feels wrong tonight.

As the water pours down his body and hits the shower floor, he ponders his statement. Finally, when he slides under the covers, he agitatedly realizes that he still hasn't stopped thinking about his statement.

Okay, come on. Why would I think about that? He asks himself angrily. He lies quietly, allowing himself to calm down before he contemplates the question. There's always time to confess...Is there? If I sleep now, will I wake up tomorrow and be able to tell my boy I love him? That I'm proud of him? Especially if we don't consider his secret doings...Will I be able to talk to him about the concerns in my heart? Will I be able to talk to him tomorrow?

Is there always time? Is there time for me and Rikkert to grow close again? We get along well, yes, but our bond has been severely shaken since then...And I miss that...The camps, the sports practiced on the front lawn, the open conversations...Is there time for me to fix our relationship?

He sighs and shifts from his back over to his left side, staring at his wife again. Is there always time, my Rosalee...? I didn't have one more opportunity to tell you that I love you. And I really wanted to...It was swirling in my mind the whole time as I was driving home. I would've taken you into my arms, rested my head on your shoulder, and I would've whispered it in your ear. I would've comforted you...But I came home and you were on the kitchen floor...I was too late. There wasn't time...Did I waste my time and miss my opportunities to spend time with Rikkert and to grow close to him again?

The blue eyes stare down at him reprovingly, and he quickly turns to his other side, staring out the open door. Usually, he slept with a closed door. But, he wanted to hear when his son got home tonight.

His thoughts continue haunting him, and finally he just jumps from bed. I can't sleep. I need to find Rikkert now. Because there is not always time...Not for all of us, anyways. He and I will be discussing this matter tonight! Heck, within the next hour, if I have my way!

The phone downstairs suddenly starts ringing. Richard tenses up. No...