Uncle Nate

When Al turned twenty three, his Uncle Nate offered to take him to dinner at Uncle Bo's. He wanted to eat some poke, limu, onion and drink beer. Also, there was something very important he wanted to tell him. It was something about Al's parents, their history, and why he hadn't been around when Al was growing up. Al, now a young, assertive, opinionated and very stubborn man, declined. When he told his parents, they're reaction was to lean into each other, as if to comfort and console one another. "Maybe you should go," they said. Al refused. "I don't really care to see him. Couldn't care less about what he wants to clear up. To purge the big white elephants in his conscience." Instead, Al went out with his friends, got drunk, and in the middle of the night, decided to get a tattoo. He and his friends all decided to get statements tattooed along their upper backs. The letters he had arching over his trapezius composed a simple statement. "Fuck Uncle Nate," it said. It was a statement born of alcohol, anger, and intense loyalty to his parents. Later that week, Al's father, upon seeing his son's angry, hate-filled tattoo shook his head and asked. "We've told you that all was forgiven years ago. We told you to go to dinner with him so that he could make amends with you. How did you become this way?" Al had no answer, and went into a period of intense introspection. He eventually had the tattoo removed using repeated laser therapy. The tattoo's removal was more painful than its creation, and it left his back badly scarred, which was more damage that Uncle Nate had ever done. Eventually, Al grew up and became a devoted husband and father. He named his daughter Penelope. And he named his younger son Nate.