Sunset: Beyond the Ordinary Appearance of Things
by A. M. Palmer
The sound of gravel giving way to plastic tires filled the afternoon, as a child’s toy broke the silence. It was a July day in New Mexico, and his mother waved greetings in my direction, as the boy’s Jeep replica announced their presence. Alex was a typical child of four years in many respects, active and somewhat adventurous, and very close to his parents as they traveled for his father’s work as a pipeline welder. However, he had yet to begin speaking, preferring occasional squeals and grunts to express himself, a problem that stumped professionals but left his parents unphased.
Sometimes, the ordinary appearance of things belies a darker truth.
The day unfolded in the silhouette of its predecessors, moving slowly as desert wind cooled the atmosphere. By sunset, Alex’s father, Archon, had returned for his time of relaxation, sitting out front with a colleague for drinks, vaping, and a bit of marijuana, nonsensical stories about fistfights and their own toughness lingering in the night air. On such evenings, his wife knew to remain indoors with Alex.
A native of Texas, Archon was over six feet tall with broad shoulders and cropped blonde hair, proudly able to overcome multiple opponents with his fists, while remaining courteous and helpful towards those he considered friends. However, anyone who challenged him, or dared to decline his drinking and smoking invitations, would encounter his less agreeable side, very quickly. And, on a certain unfortunate occasion, a stranger discovered this in no small measure.
The weather was mild and perfect for a day at the pool, so Archon and his family donned their swimsuits, and he toted a six-pack of hard iced tea to the water. Alex laughed and squealed as his toy Jeep crunched along the path under a bright sun. However, shortly after they arrived at the pool, prepared for a day of fun, a group of mothers dared to complain about Archon’s vaping, an activity which was prohibited in common areas. And with that, the women became the latest set of villains in the drama of his life, audacious enough to insist that he observe rules.
Eventually, the owners of the property arrived, one of them a woman in her seventies, and politely asked that he either abstain from vaping or return to his residence, a reasonable ultimatum, it would seem. However, the challenge had been issued and a loud argument ensued, during which Archon leaned down to yell directly into the elderly woman’s face—nose to nose—incensed that she had dared to hold him accountable. In the end, the man and his wife were proud of his actions for reasons only they could fathom. As for the mothers and children who witnessed his aggression, they avoided the pool until the work week began and Archon returned to the pipeline.
The following day, the owners initiated proceedings to evict the family, not for vaping but for the man’s threatening behavior towards an elderly woman. Predictably, however, he and his wife were angry at the property owners for asking him to follow the rules, as the world should, without hesitation, conform to the demands of an angry drunk man with clenched fists. And this brings to mind the psychology of family dynamics and the tragedy of substance abuse.
It’s no less than folie à deux (the madness of two); ethics are redefined by addicted/enabling parents who eschew accountability and despise all forms of authority. In Archon’s stupor, he felt threatened by an old woman, an authority figure who had reminded him of social responsibility. In similar fashion, his wife believed that the property owners were wrong and that her husband had merely defended his family’s rights—by intimidating a defenseless elderly person. Indeed, a tragic form of madness prevailed on that day.
Like their children, alcoholic parents possess vast imaginations and the ability to craft fanciful scenarios, reality being a mere guideline for the stories they wish to believe. And were it not for the occasional intervention of strangers, their habits might go entirely unchallenged.
The next day, I saw Alex as he walked hand-in-hand with his mother, still unable to speak and careful to avoid eye contact.
BIO
A. M. Palmer is a nonfiction author and retired City of San Diego park ranger with work appearing in Brevity Magazine, Decolonial Passage, Belle Ombre, First American Art Magazine, and other publications. A member of the National Association of Independent Writers and Editors, Palmer’s second book, Workman’s Orthodoxy: Collected Essays & Poems, was published in 2023 and received recognition at The BookFest Awards.
