Ok, so as you guys know I recently read and reviewed 101 by Margaret Chatwin. And again, really enjoyed it. While checking out a fellow bloggers review she mentioned that she wished we had more of a back story. You can check out her great review here: Ylogs. Well I whole heartedly agreed with her. And Chatwin fulfilled that wish. So for those of you who read 101 and also wished to understand why Trigg’s father was the way he was here is your answer. You can read Trigg’s explanation by following the link but here is an except:
Yes, my adventure started long before that night in the living room when Ren sealed our fate by pulling the trigger. I actually think it started the day I was born, but who wants to be dragged that far back? Not me. Bad enough I had to live it once.
So – my dad. You probably figured we’d start with him, huh? Everything always starts with him. Not sure how that’s even possible, but it seems to be true.
His name is Kent Hale and I don’t know what he was like as a kid or teen. Never had one of those father/son get-to-know-you talks. You know the kind where, for a second, you can close your eyes and pretend your parent is really your friend? Where the two of you can find yourselves in each other? Where something they did as a kid is so similar to what you did just five minutes ago that you feel a connecting bond? Yeah – just never happened with him. When he wasn’t screaming, he was silent. That weird, vacant kind of silent. A stupor that, I’m sure was induced by the liquor.
His parents were no help in getting to know him. His dad died before my sixth birthday in some work related accident. Or so they say. Rumor has it the guy had an enemy on every corner.
Shocking how my dad turned out to be the stalwart individual that he is.
Dad’s mom – well she remarried a few years later and moved to some place I can’t even pronounce. Ren and I never saw her again.
I wasn’t heartbroken over it. Not like we were all that close, anyhow. We seldom got together, but when we did – I mostly just remember all the bickering. I hated the feeling that type of behavior always left in the back of my throat so I’d go outside to find something to do. Ren though, man, she had more of a stomach for it. She’d sit there and take it all in. Eyes darting back and forth from Shouter to Screamer.
I think she was learning how to load that gun way back then. She must get her spirit of fight from that side of the family.
So how did my mom end up with a guy like my dad?
He back handed me across the mouth one day when I was about ten and while I was still fuming over it, I confronted her about that. She’d smiled sadly, handed me a bag of frozen peas from the freezer to put on my face and said, “He wasn’t always like this.”
So don’t forget to follow the link From: Trigg to finish reading more of Trigg’s incredible story. I also want to thank Margaret Chatwin for providing us curious reader with this narrative!