‘I’m surprised you would ask me that, Charlie,’ said Gerald. ‘I’m not even ill, let alone dying! But let me sort out my finances and I’ll see how much I can let you have. I won’t sell this ring – it’s valuable, but it’s meaningful to me, so I want to keep it in the family. But apart from that, I will do what can be done to provide for you.’
His younger son had approached him for the inheritance he was due, one day, to receive. Inheritance is distributed after death, and it is very unusual for a son to request it early. But Gerald was able to gather all of his liquid assets, having sold off a few prized possessions and some of his land, and he gave a huge sum of money to the son.
‘Thanks, dad!’
‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘I am going to go to Dissipation City and have a good time. I’m fed up with being here, working alongside hired men and feeding those skinny calves. I intend to party!’
‘Well, don’t just spend it all…’
‘Of course not. I’m going to invest it in a good time, as I say.’
So Charlie took the cash and set off.
For many months after the sad day when Charlie left, Gerald’s longing to see his son return motivated his daily vigil on the roof of the building, looking out for his boy.
He had also instructed one of the hired men to give plenty of extra fodder to the most healthy of the calves, to provide food for the party when Charlie returned.
‘But he isn’t going to come back, is he, sir?’ the hired man said, knowing the truth that the old man was denying.
‘I can only hope,’ Gerald answered.
Meanwhile, Charlie was quickly surrounded by so-called friends, who helped relieve him of large amounts of the money, with wild living: slap-up dinners, gambling, entertainments, fine clothes and good-time girls.
After not very long it was all gone, and when his friends discovered this, they went the same way. Charlie was penniless, and then a famine struck the land. He had no back-up plan; no money, no options, no food, nowhere to live and no hope. He knew his father would utterly reject him if he went home, so that wasn’t worth trying.
He looked around to find a way to stay alive; eventually, he ended up taking a filthy job looking after pigs. He knew he had reached rock-bottom when he found himself envying the pigs the rotting husks they were given to eat.
Here he was, a Hebrew lad, working with pigs (the most non-kosher of all animals, he thought), and so desperately hungry he’d consider stealing from the pigs those meagre scraps given to them. Since the land was in severe famine, the quality of these pods and husks was extremely low, as anything edible had already been picked out and eaten by the pig owner and his family.
He wept a little, sorry for himself, and then he came to his senses. ‘Here I am thinking about pigs and rotting vegetation, when back at home, my dad’s hired men eat well every day. If this famine has affected them at all they’ll have slaughtered the skinny calves weeks ago and still be feasting on the meat… I think what I must do is to go home and see if I can work for him. I am no longer worthy to be called a son. He’s got every right to reject me; he might not even be willing to see me. I deserve that. But I have to try.’ So he arose and made his way home.
Gerald’s hopes were high, and he spent a long time on the roof that day, looking, hoping, narrowing his eyes to try to scan the horizon for any sign of his beloved son. But as darkness fell, he slowly, sadly descended the steps and went indoors to eat his vegetable stew.
to be concluded
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