7 years earlier
–
“Dad, I’m tired.”
“I know, son... I know. You’re doing great... really. But I think my ankle is broken... and your mother... I’m not sure if she’s still breathing.”
Even from where he stands, the colossal boy, only eleven years old, can see the ground around his father’s ankle turning red. His mother doesn’t move at all. She’s covered with leaves and dirt. She would hate that—she’s allergic to filth.
Then, some leaves shift and slide from her back. She’s still breathing! She’s alive. With renewed determination, the boy digs his feet firmly into the ground, straining his muscles even harder to support the two trees resting on his back and shoulders. On top of them an enormous pile of rubble, rocks and dirt threatening to crush his parents. He’s the only one saving them from certain death—but for how long? His muscles begin to burn.
A vacation in the mountains. It had seemed like a good idea, and he had really looked forward to it. Probably more than was realistic, considering their situation at home, but he couldn’t resist. He longed so badly for a peaceful family life, if only for two weeks. And it had started well enough. During the long drive to Switzerland, good intentions had triumphed over the frustrations, resentment, and regrets built up over years. On the very first day at the hotel, however, it all began to fall apart.
At first, it was small, almost insignificant things: napkins not placed exactly straight, his father walking a bit too crookedly, and he himself spilling mustard on his pants. His mother tried her best to let it go, but she just couldn’t. It was an urge she couldn’t control, and as always, it worsened with every word. Within a day, the entire atmosphere soured, no different from what it had been at home: his father desperately trying to meet his mother’s impossible standards, and his mother never believing it was enough.
Then, on the third day, his father proposed a long hike through the mountains. The fresh air would do them good, and, for once, his mother didn’t object.
The trail his father had chosen was perfect: mighty rocks, deep chasms, and giant trees. The forest floor was a vibrant carpet of autumn leaves in an explosion of color. He had grown up in the city, but now he felt how much he belonged here, in a nature this big and strong. It mirrored how he felt himself sometimes—big and strong. For the first time in years, he could breathe deeply and freely and was at peace.
It didn’t last long. After only two miles, his mother complained about the mud on her shoes, followed by a sharp remark about how the wind had messed up his father’s hair. Not much later, she cynically declared that nature was only fun when watched on TV.
His father had tried to defuse every comment with mild jokes, which only resulted in even more venomous remarks. It was the beginning of the back-and-forth he knew so well—a verbal tennis game with only one possible winner.
He started to walk faster to get out of hearing distance from the bickering, and when that wasn’t enough, he began singing; when that wasn’t enough, he started stomping along to the music in his head. That finally did it. For ten minutes, he was alone with his voice, the rhythm of his feet, and the wind in his hair, before a scream jerked him back to reality. He turned around but didn’t understand what he was seeing at first. The whole world was shaking. Violently. Rocks began to roll down the mountainside, and trees started toppling over. It was chaos and destruction.
Thirty meters behind him, his petrified father had looked up to see what was happening, but his mother’s eyes remained fixed on him, filled with a level of disgust he had never seen before. Her gaze only shifted to the mountain above her when a massive chunk of earth, rocks, and trees began sliding down the slope. An avalanche that would certainly kill them.
Thankfully the trembling stopped when he started to run towards them in a race against the landslide that he only narrowly won. Just in time he was able to press his shoulders under the first tree about to crush them. Then another. He thanked God for his strength. Unnatural they had whispered behind his back at school, creepy. He had hated that, but now his strength could save his parents. It had to. The trees formed a natural roof, protecting them against the tons of rocks and dirt. The pressure on his back and legs became almost unbearable, but he persevered. Most of the rubble slid from the side. Most of it missed his parents, but not all of it. His mother got knocked out and covered with dirt and his father’s ankle got crushed by a big rock.
There he stood, unable to go to them, unable to help. He had to keep supporting the trees, even though the avalanche had stopped.
“Umpf,” groaned his mother.
“Dear!” his father exclaimed. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Careful, dear—you don’t know if you’ve broken something.” She didn’t listen. Instead, she looked down at herself in disgust.
“My clothes are ruined.”
“Your clothes aren’t important, darling. Are you alright? Can you move? Can you get away?” For a moment, pain distorted her face.
“No, I can’t feel my legs.” Suddenly, a cynical laugh escaped her thin, pursed lips. It was as unexpected as it was misplaced. “Who would have thought my life would end under such embarrassing circumstances?”
“Don’t talk like that, darling. Roberto will save us.” His father turned to him. “Won’t you, Roberto? You’re strong. You can do this.”
Roberto said nothing. He was sweating like an ox, his muscles burning under the strain. His mother scoffed.
“Pfff. Roberto. Our ‘little’ Roberto is a failure. We should’ve put him up for adoption the moment he was born. But no—you insisted.”
“Don’t say that, darling. Roberto’s a good kid. He’s just had some bad luck.”
“Bad luck?” she sneered. “If he hadn’t been here, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Landslides don’t just happen out of nowhere.”
“Son, don’t listen to her,” his father pleaded desperately. “She’s afraid, in shock—she doesn’t mean it. Hang in there... please.”
Roberto heard his father. He loved him. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. His mother loathed him. She always had. His entire life had been a desperate attempt to earn her approval. He would have done anything for a kind word, a hug, or even a fleeting compliment. But it was never enough.
Now, here in the woods, with three trees pressing down on his shoulders, the truth struck him with the force of a baseball bat.
A life full of sacrifice, rejection, and insult compounded into one overwhelming truth. He would never succeed. Ever.An internal landslide swept away the last remnants of his love and compassion, leaving only an all-consuming anger.
The world began to shake again. He fought it, fought himself. He didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want to give in to the rage. But then his mother spoke again.
“You see, dear? He can’t save us. He can only destroy. He—” His father tried to cut her off.
“No! Roberto, don’t listen to her. She loves you—”
Roberto didn’t hear him anymore. The shaking stopped at the exact moment he stepped back, let the trees slip from his shoulders and sank to his knees, his muscles screaming for relief and when he looked back over his shoulder, there was no sign of his parents left.