Hidden Feathers

“Suicide is for cowards,” Jason thought to himself “or at least that’s what dad always said.”

His reluctant mind couldn’t help but to then ask the lingering question “Am I such a coward?”

Compounded insecurities and personal failures weighed heavy on Jason as he took stock of his life. He wondered how his father was able to navigate decades of barely scraping by without ever giving up. Children tend to think of their parents as superheroes, impervious to pain. But the maturity of years allows one to appreciate the struggles they faced.

Jason had assumed the despondency plaguing his adult life was a result of his own inadequacies. Thinking back, he began to wonder if his father had likewise been shrouded in the same sorrow that he was facing. Perhaps the wrinkled seriousness chiseled into his father’s face had more to do with perseverance than solemnity.

The early days of Jason’s boyish play in the family barn never seemed to bother his dad who had converted the old structure into a mechanic’s workshop. Jason would bounce around while his father toiled away repairing small engine farm equipment dropped off by the neighbors.

It was rare for Jason to be sent out of the workshop while his father’s greasy, calloused hands pulled and cranked on the aging farm equipment. The tired, old tools he inherited after grandpa died still managed to get the job done.

For some reason, his father never missed an opportunity to interrupt Jason’s play with unsolicited advice.

“Pay attention in school son, so that you don’t have to end up like your old man” he used to say. “Ain’t nothin in life free. You gotta work hard to earn and keep what’s yours.”

Jason would stop wielding whatever make-believe sword he pulled from the scrap metal pile and reply “Yes sir.” He rarely understood why his father would break the silence to offer such insights, but they were always stated with such concern that he knew better than to ignore them.

As a boy, Jason enjoyed climbing around his dad's shop after school and on weekends. It was in that barn that he fought countless imaginary battles. Sometimes he was a lone soldier separated from his platoon, fighting the invading army by himself. Other days, he was a knight searching for an ominous dragon to slay inside its lair. When the creative juices ran low, he’d settle for hunting mice or snakes in the dark corners of the barn.

Every now and then Jason would catch a glimpse of one of the horned owls that lived nearby. He heard them more often than he saw them, but it was always a treat whenever he discovered one of their speckled feathers on the shop floor. He kept a secret stash of them in a tin can hidden behind an old box of discarded rotors. His plan was to accumulate enough feathers to reconstruct a decoy in order to catch a live owl.

As he grew older, Jason spent less and less time in the barn with his dad. He set his eyes on getting out of that small town. He dreamed of wearing fancy clothes in an office someday. Why would he want to smell like rust and sweat every day like his father? He wanted to eat steak and drink martinis with attractive, important people. Jason doubted if his dad ever had a martini in his life.

Jason was grateful for his father spending evenings making phone calls and filling out enough grant applications for him to get accepted into the university. But at the time he couldn’t possibly understand what sacrifices his dad made to give Jason a chance at a better life than he himself had.

Jason lived it up while in college. He debauched himself no less than the other guys in his dorm. No urge or indulgence was spared. Avoiding complete demise though, he was still able to graduate with acceptable grades.

His father seemed so out of place at the graduation ceremony. "Thank God dad chose his nice pair of overalls for the special occasion" he quipped to himself. Jason momentarily felt bad for how embarrassed he was of his father’s homely appearance. But it didn’t matter. There was a world to conquer and he wasted no time finding an entry-level job in the corporate world.

Software sales. It was the furthest thing from working in the family barn that he could find.

Chinos, pressed shirts, happy hours, and large commission checks became all that Jason cared about. He had marginal success in his first year with the company. However the high-stress environment combined with the habitual drinking caused Jason’s soul to fragment.

Just 18 months after he took the job, an attractive young woman was hired in the same department as Jason. Her thick, dark hair and curvy form was impossible to ignore. She of course had to play tough while in the office, but her feminine allure would always surface during happy hour drinks.

Her magnetism caused the other guys in the office to linger and hover while talking to her. She didn’t seem to mind the special attention. There was always a subtle flirtatiousness in her responses. Jason had no claim on her so he couldn’t rightfully be jealous, but that didn’t stop him from secretly hating all the other males in the office competing for her affection.

“She doesn’t laugh at their jokes like she laughs at mine” he assured himself. Jason didn’t want to appear too eager or aggressive while at work, but each day he found an excuse to stop by her cubicle. He wouldn’t leave until he heard that coveted laugh bursting out of her sultry smile. In his mind they were basically an item.

It only took one happy hour disaster to change everything when Jason decided to make his move. The three cocktails and half-price nachos gave Jason the courage he normally lacked to proposition the object of his desire. She allowed Jason to buy her a couple of drinks and politely smiled during his self-indulgent stories, but the plan hadn’t worked. She wasn’t swept off her feet like he had rehearsed the scenario in his mind. The power she wielded in the office by tantalizing her would-be suitors was not going to be that easily surrendered.

Jason offered to take her home promising untold pleasure if they could be alone, but the offer fell flat. She politely declined and quickly excused herself to go chat with some of the other coworkers who would gladly continue buying her drinks. Feeling humiliated, Jason could tell that the snickering and flirty banter taking place across the way was at his expense. He left the bar devastated and alone.

In the months that followed, Jason began to tailspin. He felt too rejected to swing by her desk. More than that, she seemed to avoid him at the office. Jason would still attend the happy hour events trying to play the part, but it wasn’t the same. The girl he desired wasn't interested and the other guys in his department weren't so impressed by him anymore.

After three consecutive quarters of finishing in the bottom quartile of his company’s sales department, Jason was fired. His confidence was shattered. With no money and only one huge failure to list on his resume, Jason began to feel desperate.

Wallowing in self-pity, he couldn’t find the motivation to plot out his next move. He was too ashamed to call his father and explain the situation. And though Jason had become well-practiced in making excuses for his failures as of late, he was sure his father wouldn’t understand. Jason made the mistake of believing that because his dad had no idea how to execute Account Based Selling in a B2B atmosphere therefore he was clueless as to how the real world operates.

“How could he understand? I’m the miserable son of a poor grease monkey” he’d tell himself. “Dad has never had to deal with this kind of pressure.”

And yet, no matter how many justifications he thought of, Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was still a better man than he.

“Maybe years of grinding out a living in the old barn was the secret to his strength” he thought to himself. Jason was realizing that perhaps his father understood more than he cared to admit.

It was at this moment that Jason began longing for home. Suddenly the pressed shirts and chinos and martinis lost their appeal. Jason wanted to breathe in the rusty smells of that familiar fortress that made him feel safe as a child.

The dreary thoughts of ending his life slowly vanished as he thought about his dad in the workshop. He felt embarrassed for even contemplating such a thing.

Jason realized that he possessed something better than wealth or nobility. His father might be a simple man, but he was also faithful and good. His dad may not understand the complexities of computers or software, but he had given Jason a meaningful life. He remembered that his father loved him, and no boss or coworker could ever take that away from him.

Though he was slaying a different breed of dragons in his adult life, the example his father set for Jason was enough inspiration to overcome any challenge.

Jason smiled.

For the first time in months his confidence was slowly returning. As he flipped open his laptop to begin the search for a new job, Jason’s thoughts turned once again to the family barn.

“I wonder if my can of owl feathers is still there” he pondered. He felt sure that it was.

Jason was determined to make his father proud. It was the least he could do. If for no other reason than to say “thank you” to the man who had given him everything, Jason knew he had to press on. He paused momentarily, pushing the computer away from his lap. He pulled out his phone and hit the first number on speed dial.

“Hey dad, it’s Jason…”