Basketball to Ballet
By: David Ramos
Tags: Basketball, Family, Ballet, Short Story, Dreams

Photo by Arnie Chou on Unsplash

It was a foggy night riding back home, and instead of a creature popping up from the corner of my Dad’s eye to make our car flip completely sideways, an even most devasting idea pounded against my Dad’s eardrum: “Dad can I try Ballet?”. When those words had hit against my Dad coming from someone who instead of having size 6 shoes and would to school everyday with skirts and pink ribbons in their hair, and without an aversion to becoming intimate with a female, he heard his 6 foot 6 son with feet the size of a baby elephant denounce the one thing his father loved the most, and made his father the happiest seeing him do: Basketball.

Like the air on a cold and frigid evening, our conversation sharply went dry. Although it didn’t have the same dryness that water had when one was drowning in the consequences of their own actions. I was trying to gauge if he was going to be disappoint in me, if he was going to yell at me, or if he was going to embrace me and tell me how much he accepted my decision. The answer was none of the above, my father is a very patient man, but with patience comes with a usual stoic personality, and in this case stoic made his behavior extremely unpredictable.

We passed by the house, and instead we passed by an old creek, and even passed by Uncle Roger’s place. At this point I felt terrified, and with every passing thought of what would happen next, looking at the man behind the driver’s seat made me continually think if I really knew this man, or if this man really loved me. I questioned the evil that this man is capable, and remembered an old Bible verse from when I was young that wrote to never underestimate a man’s capacity for evil.

Just as the car start to go off road, I started to panic. In the midst of my panic and worrying I asked my father we were going, and with his strong face, and iron clad cheek bones, he gave me a nod up, and we saw ahead of us we saw a Post Office that was open this late at night, I did not think one of these existed (but then again who would believe a 6'6" man would rather do ballet instead of basketball). We go inside and find a lockbox, after he opens it, he hands me a blank check, a passport, and my social security, he pulls out a duffle bags out what seemed like thin air, but it did fit the normalcy of how the evening was going. After handing me these items he eventually lifted his jeans ever so slightly with a few wrinkles, and bent down just a few inches.

Told me in a few words that I would spend me two weeks of spring break, in a private ballet school in Europe that was audition only. For any reason, if I did not make it in the school, I would have to figure out living situations for myself out on the streets of Europe. The blank check can be used for food and shelter, but the first use should be used for tuition if I do get into the school. My social security was to make sure that the European government did not mistake me for a refugee. When I come back from Europe, he will pull me from the basketball teams and support me only if I still want to do it after two weeks of intense ballet school, that he would support me. This is the way, he finished telling me.