Walk the line

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Gideon took up the ringing phone and grumbled, "Not again."

"Hello, your father and I are already in Lagos. Within two hours, we would get to your school. I hope you are safe, my dear," the gentle but worried voice on the other end of the phone said.

"Mum, I already told you the umpteenth time that I was safe."

"Ok, You know how much I love you. Your dad is driving and says hello. You know he doesn't like talking while driving."

"Ok, Mom, I am expecting you both," Gideon said as he cut the call.

He thought to himself, "Oh no, this would be disastrous," as he took up the phone and dialed his closest buddy, Samuel.

"Sam, hello! Please, are there any barbershops open at the moment that you know of?"

"No, what makes you inquire about a barbershop? Have you forgotten that the school administration ordered everyone to vacate the premises by today's end due to the school's indefinite closure? Additionally, you are aware that all non-essential services have been suspended in the school and its surrounding areas due to the student protest and the clash with anti-riot police." Sam said.

"I know, I'm actually packing my bags already, and my Mom and Dad are on their way to pick me up," Gideon replied.

"So why are you asking about a barber shop?" Sam questioned.

"Have you forgotten that I tinted my hair? My parents mustn't see it, especially my dad, who is a pastor and frowns at things like that." Gideon answered.

"Oh no! That's true, bro. Unfortunately, the barbershops are closed, and I can't help you either, as I am about to board a bus. I will call you later."

Gideon said, "Okay, safe journey," and hung up.

Gideon searched the room, making sure he didn't miss anything crucial, while wondering, "How do I make sure my dad doesn't see my tinted hair?:"

Suddenly, his phone rang. He yelled, "Not again," and quickly grabbed up the phone.

"Hello, darling! Start moving in the direction of the school gate; we are almost there," Mrs. Ade said.

"How come? You mentioned that you had just arrived in Lagos when you called less than an hour ago. How did you get so quickly to my school?" Gideon questioned in a startled manner.

"The road was unusually free today, maybe as a result of the riots that happened yesterday. Starting coming to the school gate now," Mrs Ade said as she hung up the call.

Gideon quickly zipped his bags, locked his room, and then headed toward the school gate. Under normal circumstances, his father would have driven his car to the hostel parking lot, but currently, the institution forbids any unofficial cars from entering. Fortunately, his accommodation was close to the school gate, unlike other hostels, so he wouldn't need to trek for long with his heavy bags. When he arrived at the school entrance, he spotted his parents' blue Jeep packed at a corner, and he noticed his parents nervously waiting at its rear. With trepidation, he made his way carefully in their direction. He watched the shift in his father's expression as he saw his hair.

His mother greeted him with delight, saying, "Hey, my darling," and she gave him a bear hug.

He timidly said, "Good afternoon, Dad," setting his luggage down in the back of the vehicle.

"Hello, son, What happened to your hair?" Mr. Ade asked.

"Darling, why did you tint your head?" His mom also asked concerningly.

Searching for something to say in defence. Gideon paused, then said, "It's just fashion."

"You've only spent a few months at the university, and you are already dressing like a rascal?" Mr. Ade gave an irate quip.

"No, Dad, there isn't anything bad about tinting one's hair; it is just fashion," Gideon countered.

"Oh, really, it seems the few months in university have made you grow wings, right?" His father shot back.

"Honey!" Mrs. Ade sent her husband a disdainful glance and remarked, "You shouldn't be questioning our boy in public. I think we can solve this issue when we get home."

Mr. Ade said to his wife, "I have told you many times that you're spoiling this boy; just because he is our only child doesn't mean he can behave anyhow."

Gideon got into the rear seat of the car after putting his baggage in the boot, and they drove off. Gideon's father didn't like to talk while driving, so it was a very peaceful trip home, and Gideon thoroughly loved the calm. However, he was aware that his father would start speaking like rain as soon as they arrived home.

When they got home in the evening and rested after their exhausting travel, Mr. Ade summoned Gideon to the parlour.

"You know I can't allow this kind of hair from you. So tomorrow you have to barb this hair, and you mustn't ever tint your hair anymore.

Gideon replied, "You seem to forget that I am an adult now."

"Then are you the one footing your college bills?" You're talking immaturely, Mr. Ade added.

"Why are you always mean, Dad?" Gideon cried out.

"How could you call me cruel? You, this pampered brat!" Mr. Ade said as he became agitated.

Hearing that, Mrs. Ade—who was preparing dinner in the kitchen—went to the parlor, where she confronted her husband and said, "You know, that is a horrible thing to say to your son. You ought to give him an apology."

Yes, I realize that what I said was harsh, but he enraged me. Why did he think I was being mean? Ultimately, my desire was for him to succeed. Mr. Ade countered.

Mrs. Ade was aware that there was no use in disputing with her husband since he would not readily accept advice. Rather, she proceeded to Gideon's room. Gideon answered the door as soon as he heard his mother's voice.

"I overheard your father and you fighting. It's not polite, you know, what you said to your father. It's time for you to go apologize." Concerningly, Mrs. Ade remarked

"No, I won't; I really think that Dad is mean and repressive, unlike other dads."

"Don't say that, Gideon, because he scolds you for your hair and some other teenage behaviours doesn't mean he doesn't love you. Come, let me show you something."

Gideon followed his mom to her room. She brought an old photo album.

Gideon commented, "I've never seen this picture album before."

"When your dad's mother passed away a year ago, I took it from her house." Turning the picture album over, she answered.

When she arrived at a specific page, she gestured to an image. "Do you know who is in the picture?" She questioned

"This person looks like Dad," Gideon noted.

"Of course, he is the one in the picture," Mrs. Ade replied.

"Oh my goodness, so when Dad was my age, he used to plait his hair?" Why haven't I seen him in a photo like this before?" Gideon asked.

Mrs. Ade went on, "Not only did your father plait his hair; at one point, he was a hippie." You see, when he was a young man, your dad and his dad weren't close. And his hippie lifestyle got him into trouble with the police. But when his father unexpectedly passed away one day, he was saddened and made a lifestyle change."

"How come no one has told me this before?" Gideon wondered.

"Well, your dad dislikes discussing his time spent as a hippy because he feels ashamed of it. I hope you realize that your dad is just acting out of concern. Deep down, he really loves you, coupled with the fact that you're his only child."

The story moved Gideon so much that he was crying without even realizing it. "Mom, thank you. I really should apologize to my father for my previous remarks." He replied as he walked out of his mother's room and into his father's study.

"Hey, Dad!" Standing at the doorway of his father's study, unsure of whether to go inside, Gideon said, "I'm so sorry about what I said earlier," tears welling up in his eyes."

"Come in. I apologize as well for my remarks about you. Since then, I've wanted to apologize, but I suppose my pride prevented me. Mr. Ade said and continued, "You know you are a better son than I was to my father at your age."

Yes, Gideon said, laughing. "Mom has told me your secret—you were once a hippie."

"Well, that woman! She's not good at keeping secrets." Mr. Ade chuckled, got to his feet, and hugged Gideon. "My only wish for you, my son, is that you avoid making the same mistakes I did. I love you.
"

Thank you for reading!

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