The Illegitimate Sons of Jacob Appiano
When you have a son you will love him immediately. It has nothing to do with love or the instant bond created with a being that bares your more genetically dominant qualities. It is because of nature that you love the child. This overwhelming feeling of joy you feel is nature’s way of telling you to not simply dump this screaming thing into the trash. In earlier days it would be this feeling that would keep you from cracking open the child’s skull and scooping out its insides and smearing them on your face. When my first son was born, I loved him immediately.
My second son was a gift. A gift from God that allowed me to fix all of the mistakes I made with the first son. I told him different bed time stories, I fed him different food. I even gave him opposing advice. The two of them competed for my love and respect and I cheered for my second son.
My third son was a wretched runt. All I could offer him with any regularity was pity. The other two boys terrorized him constantly. There was little I could do about it. I failed him.
My fourth son lives with his mother now. He may as well have been a daughter.
By the time my fifth son is eighteen years old I will be eighty. I will not speak a word to him until then. When he is eighteen, if I am still alive, he will come to me as a man. He will come to me and say, I am your son. I will give him nothing.
