The Story of Dangerfield Mack McColl
Dangerfield is remarkable because he is well-mannered, very strong, inquisitive, and has a remarkably sunny disposition, despite having been raised by me. This makes him doubly remarkable. He is a piece of steel.
The way I met Dangerfield was when he was in the womb. While Dangerfield was in gestation I took it upon myself to read him a story. The story I chose to read was Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. Without doubt this story is my favorite.
Dangerfield was born with a huge appetite for life. This was apparent from the moment of his difficult and slightly premature birth. The delivering doctor couldn't help herself, "That's one tough baby," she exclaimed, holding him, and cutting the cord, followed immediately by turning attention to an episiotomy.
Dangerfield was born healthy and grew quickly to meet his potential, survival never in doubt, although an early choking incident did occur on a tiny cardboard star, given to him at a kid's birthday in a complementary package at the end of festivities. Welcome to the world of institutionalized humanity, little guy. His Mom managed to Heimlich him out of danger.
He had big hands and an even bigger disposition. He slept through the nights. If he woke, a quick feeding or a change of diaper resolved it. He wasn't cholic. He was bottle-fed early on, and he flew through every check-up. He giggled with pure hysteria the first time he joined us at the dinner table. He gathered himself instantly after vaccines. The way I see it, and I saw him all day every day, because as a writer I worked at home, Dangerfield had a profoundly thoughtful nature. His mother had reduced her smoking to 5 cigarettes per day, or 3 or 4 on some days. I snuck a dozen puffs a day on a cigarillo. Neither of us drank alcohol. We both ate well and exercised frequently. She had an excellent stroller. I had a bicycle and a trailer.
From the beginning, Dangerfield was taken everyday to the local Aboriginal Friendship Centre and the Courtenay Elementary pre-school programs, starting at six months of age. He was surrounded by children because he was an only child, my only child, as well as my wife's. . . . It was important for him to socialize with children and he was happy to do so. He made many friends, some of whom remain friends. He visited parks. He was taken to forests and the ocean. He swam early, first with Mom, then with me. He walked by the expected time; his weight and height were always in the upper percentiles. His vision and hearing and other measurements of health proved him to be a thriving infant.
At the age of two and a half, Dangerfield was at an indoor playground, at a facility for kids in Fort Edmonton, when two boys began to bully a small Indigenous child his own age. Shortly Dangerfield had the two 4 year olds running for their mothers. It was a remarkable to see this demonstration of compassion by a two year old.
He always stood his ground. But he's not stupid. One time, by the time he was out of diapers, he pissed me off royally, the way kids sometimes do. He was standing in the kitchen and pretty much raging at me, so, being an upperclassman from the school of rage myself (top of class if I don't say so), this time, I was gonna take him down. I thought I had all exits covered. His strategy for flight was elegant. A Gordie Howe feint to my left, a Wayne Gretzky dipsy doodle to my right, and a Bobby Orr rush past the opposition leaving me on my 'handicapped' ass.
I read to Dangerfield every night. I took him to parks every day. I never saw him conflict with a child in all those days for all those years. When a kid threw him off a floating mattress in the ocean, and he submerged, despite being in the learning stages of swimming, he came up roaring with laughter. It was offshore at Piper's Lagoon. We were in six feet of water, and he wore a life jacket. I was there in five rapid strokes and returned him to manageable depths. He mentioned that he would remain friends with Noah as we sputtered salt water. The fact was, it revealed how utterly fearless Dangerfield truly is, to the core of his being.
His main interest didn't lie in riding bikes. He loved cars. His favorite was a Tesla. He loved car shows and soon knew the make and model of all cars. He liked apparatuses at the park, but wasn't keen on the geodesic shaped climbing ropes at Beban Park. He loved to run. He loved to explore surroundings, he loved finding crabs and minnows. He loved his scooter later on. He loved to walk down the beach with his mother and long trail walks. He loved the ocean and we swam every day, all summer long. He loved to push me over in the ocean, and hold me down, roaring with laughter.
He had a playroom in the finished attic and we set up Thomas the Tank Engine track beside Hot Wheels track entwined with electric train track, and he made Lego buildings, and garages to fix cars with Playmobil Fritz and Gordon as the mechanics, and a big dumb guy named Steve in a hard hat as security. There were 700 Hot Wheels cars in parking lots, the best ones were raced, and the others sat in parkades, and he had remote control cars given to him on special occasions. We ran this show through the winter for an hour or two each day, each winter.
We gave him love, a Hot Wheel a day, and a Stuffed Toy a week,, and he had a few favorites and names for each of them, some with names that disappeared, but we could search our memories, or they could be named again. We had a big back yard, well-fenced, with an upper terrace, a little trail between two tall cypress, and he had a small trampoline with walls near the back door. He made friends with kids on one side, immediate neighbors.
He took care of his toys. He knew where everything was. He was happy in kindergarten. He was happy at the Ladysmith Early Childhood Development program (LAFF). He was a good student too, in grades one, two, and three, always described by teachers as an excellent student who is helpful and well behaved and who gets along with others, and often leads in chores like clean-up and putting stuff away. One classroom found him sitting at the very front. He was an early reader and enjoyed learning mathematics too. He always presents himself with a well-balanced mind.
Along the way to his 8 and a half years he discovered the android phone, and YouTube, and the world of video games, naturally drawn to the cars. This included Grand Theft Auto 4 on PlayStation 2, and Grand Theft Auto 5 on PlayStation 3. He insisted I take a crack at it, or do some of the longer drives in from the desert. When I had the controls I went for the monster truck. If you want, you can drive around for days in a monster truck.
Then I switched to a Rhino tank. Dangerfield went 19 levels a couple of times, so he was very rich and bought me nice stuff like Rhino tanks, and Cobra helicopters armed with endless rounds and missiles, and the greatest cars in the world. He did this from 6 and half to 7 and a half years of age. We bored with it after a while.
I hope to see him soon.
Dear Dangerfield, I loved you from the minute you were born. And I always will. We were together a lot these years. You made these years so much fun. It was great to watch you and hear you. I listened to everything you said. I remember all of it. I watched everything you do. It was amazing to see you do things. Yes I had a book in my hand, but I watched you the whole time. I never took my eyes off you. And our nights and days were the best I ever had. I wouldn't trade them for anything.
I loved one thing in particular. It gave me hope everyday. It was the way you loved your Mom, and the way you rode in the car to get Mom from work, always so peaceful and happy in the back seat. You see, I knew that the same way you loved your mother you love me too. It is the best love I ever felt, knowing you loved me as much as you loved your Mom. To be honest, you proved to me that love is real. It is a powerful thing.
You should remember how strong love is right now. You want love to stay in your heart forever. It makes you healthy right to your bones. And love never goes away. It may not always be bearable. Sometimes it can be painful to love someone. Like I hurt you when I yelled. It wasn't my heart doing the yelling. It was my hurt, my breaking heart. It was the pain. Maybe you know. I have felt a lot of pain. I have scars all the way up to my heart. And the pain was unbelievable. And I yelled to make it stop.
Didn't work.
But my heart still loves. It loves you. You are the one who proves to me love is real, because love for you is permanently in my heart.
To Dangerfield Mar 28, 2023
Hi Dangerfield
I would love to know the good things you have learned in recent weeks.
I would love to hear you say them in my ears, with you talking to me face to face, as we always do.
I hope you are still in love with me as I am with you.
I hope to know you for the rest of my life.
I said it before, we spent our lives together, you and me. We got to know each other well, and we shared the time, which was to me a treasure that is mine forever.
You know Dad is not perfect. But I love you perfectly. I make mistakes as a dad. This is my fault. We were a family and you and I have a common purpose to protect memories of our family because so many good things come from those memories.
I pray for forgiveness, for as I walked through fatherhood I stumbled and my stumbles caused you pain. I am deeply sorry to put you through pain. I will dedicate the rest of my life controlling my steps and making them right when we are together.
I love you and hope nothing but the best for you, and I will put together the same safe space we have always had with each other. Maybe a little safer than it used to be with Mom and Dad becoming separated in the end.
ALL MY LOVE
DAD