The Watch

I remember a little boy. When he was three years old his only possession, other than the clothes he wore, was a Mickey Mouse watch, and he loved that watch. One night his father admonished him about something and it ended with a threat, “… or I’ll take your watch away from you.” The man used that threat because he knew how much the little boy loved his watch. But the boy, even at the age of three, would not be intimidated, so he replied, “I don’t care.” Then the man took the watch off the little boy’s wrist and placed it on the fireplace hearth and stomped it to pieces.

It’s odd what memories wash down the stream of time. What was the man’s admonition all about? Who knows – probably something unimportant. On the other hand, the sight of a cheap but beloved possession being destroyed would turn out to be impossible to forget. It was a demonstration of rage and cruelty that, at the time, probably meant nothing to the man. It was also the beginning of a divide that would only become wider as the years passed, until eventually it would be a divide that neither father nor son could reach across.