|The Grumblings of a Drunk, Unemployed Writer
Author: TheEccentricSpeaker PM
Why didn't Max's dad remember when he told Max that Tobor wouldn't work?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst/Hurt/Comfort - Max - Words: 514 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 2 - Published: 09-19-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7396820
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I know I don't usually write fan fictions about kid movies but I just had to write this. My nephew and I watched this today and at the table near the beginning of the movie when David Arquette is talking to "Max" about Tobor I imagined this scene in my head. I probably spent about ten minutes on this, maybe fifteen. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
It's midnight in the Sanderson household. Rain trickled down the window panes, mirroring the tears of a drunken Alan Sanderson. A half empty bottle of vodka hangs limply from his hands as he reclines back into the kitchen chair, closing his eyes. His parents had been right; he hadn't been ready to get married… Alan took another drink, wishing his self-pity away. He and his wife, Whitney, had once again gotten into a huge fight about finances, their ten-year-old son, Max, and their life in general. How on earth had he gotten into this mess?
A quiet, shuffling alerts Alan, causing him to drunken swing around. Standing in the light of the hallway was the small, skinny form of Max. A cardboard box was in hands, his robot in progress, Tobor, sticking out. "Oh, hey buddy," slurred Alan, waving the vodka bottle in the air. "How's it goin'?"
"I had a nightmare."
Alan nodded, he knew all about nightmares. He waved a hand toward the cardboard box, "And you want to work on Tobor?" Max nodded, "A-ight." Alan stood up and staggered over to the light switch. Light surged through the kitchen, illuminating the small boy. Tear tracks were dried on his face, his eyes red and puffy. He sat the box down and climbed into a chair, sitting up on his knees. Alan dropped into the chair, placing the liquor bottle on the table. He squinted at the robot and picked it up, "Why do you wanna keep working on this? I mean, it's never going to work…"
Max's eyebrows furrowed together, why was his father acting like this? "If we work hard, he'll work, right Daddy?"
"Ha," scoffed Alan, "yeah right." He met his son's eyes. "Let me explain something to you while you're still young. Dreams never come true. Do you know why Tobor will never work?" He threw the robot down into the box, "Because it's just a dream. Some stupid idea, some stupid guy came up with!" Alan chugged the rest of the vodka, fresh tears in his eyes. "No matter what, Max, you'll never succeed…"
Max watched, tears streaming down his cheeks, as his father staggered away. His father's words left wounds deep within his soul, making him feel even smaller than his nightmare did. He would never matter to the world, his ideas never useful. Tobor sat looking at him, his golden eyes dark. "He'll never work…" With that, Max pushed the robot deep with the cardboard box and closed the flaps. Tobor would never be finished and neither would Max.