Chapter 12 – Blame It on Me

"Grieving the things I can't repair and willing to let you blame it on me, and set your guilt free. I don't want to hold you back love."

Evanescence, "Lacrymosa"

April 3, 2043

Fredericksburg, Virginia

United States of America

5pm

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. Derek was probably still trapped in the memory. Keith was trying to process the whole story. The entire extremely personal story…which was the most compelling story the young producer had ever heard.

"Now, you see why we can't use it," Derek almost whispered into the silence. I can barely share it, much less direct it."

Keith took a deep breath. "I can see that," he replied.

"But?" Derek asked.

"I think it still needs to be told," Keith insisted.

"Why?" the whisper was so harsh that Keith almost physically felt the Canadian's pain.

"Because we can all learn from it."

"Yeah, on how to fuck up your kids."

"No!" Keith began. Then he paused. "Okay, let's do this," Keith continued after a few beats. "You told me about something where you think you failed. So it's my turn. I'll tell you how I failed my best friend and you'll see why I want to tell your story."

"…I'm listening," Derek allowed.

Realizing he'd offered to share a full story that he'd never even shared with Amanda, Keith briefly closed his eyes. Opening them, he began, "Jamal was my friend since college. We had been through a lot. I was the best man in his wedding. The only reason he didn't return the favor was that he was in China for business when Amanda and I married. He had two children – and had a hell of time with his youngest son.

"Keshown was a mess. Running with a dangerous crowd. Into a lot of bad things. Broke his mother's heart repeatedly. Keshown ran away twice. The first time, it was only for a few hours, because Jamal wouldn't ante up for cellberry. The second time, it was for longer."

Keith paused to stare at his water, finding he couldn't continue his story looking at the director. "In between those times, Jamal tried to talk to me about his fears related to everything around his family. I didn't know what to say to him; Imani was an angel in comparison and Amanda and I weren't ever problem children ourselves. I just said stupid stuff like 'try harder' and 'you'll fix it when he gets back.' When that didn't happen…when Keshown bailed on his family a second time, Jamal didn't take it too well."

"He stopped talking to you?" Derek asked when Keith didn't reply right away.

Keith sighed. "He stopped talked to everyone in a rather permanent way."

Not looking up to see the expression on the Canadian's face, Keith plowed on. "In the note he left, Jamal actually said that he'd screwed things up too badly. That everyone knew it, even his best friend. He 'took responsibility' for it and figured he should at least give his other son a fight chance to not get screwed up.

"And you know the most messed up part about it?" Keith growled. "Keshown came back home, ready to clean up his life and try again, just in time to help his mother bury his father."

"Shit," Derek replied.

Keith looked up at Derek then. "So it probably isn't fair of me to ask you to do this. It probably isn't fair of me to ask to relive this story over and over. It's probably not remotely considerate. But, you see, if there is another Jamal out there. A Jamal convinced that his kid's problems are his fault – that he can't tell anyone because everyone will blame him. And he sees this, realizes that he isn't alone and that if he holds out a little longer, life might get better? That. That's fucking worth it for me. So yeah."

"We could call it that, you know," Derek responded after a few minutes.

"We could call what what?" Keith asked.

"The movie," Derek shrugged. "We could call it 'Everyone Blames the Parents.'"

"Does that mean you agree?" Keith asked.

Derek nodded. "Probably makes me a glutton for punishment. That can be said of all of my best work though." On that note, he rose and threw some money on the table. "So, I'll be touch. Through a Twitter conference?"

"Sure," Keith agreed and he stood and shook Derek Venturi's hand. As he watched the director walk away, Keith sank back down in his seat. He had no idea what he'd gotten himself or Derek into. And yet, if they dedicated the program to Jamal and Michael, maybe it would turn out alright.

He was a lucky father, all told. All he had to worry about with his daughter was the twenty-seven year old to whom she seemed be so attached. Maybe he'd invite that boy to dinner that night and be nice…nicer…nice-ish. Maybe.

- to be concluded in final story -