Camden Robert Hernandez

Welcome to the world my little nephew! Yep thats right I'm an uncle, well so are my three brothers. I don't know how to feel about it yet. I'm happy for my sister, but well it means, that the cursed Belmont bloodline continues. Well I guess I should get used to uncle Francis, although I don't think I will be seeing my sister's son much, seeing how she lives in Florida and all. This just gives me another excuse to go down and visit her. Maybe in the winter, its just to hot now.

Well I got a good story to coincide with the little guys birth. While my sister was in labor a thousand miles away my dad was getting drunk. So drunk to the point where he couldn't walk and he thought it best, which isn't very often, that he not drive home. Well, I'm a bit sketchy on the details, but he managed to call home and talk to my mom and tell her he was in the field between the bar and our house and he couldn't make it home. So he decided it best to pass out there.

Now I'm not sure what my motivations were or why I decided to go and fetch my father from the field. Maybe I just wanted to have a story to tell? Maybe I was afraid some one would murder my dad on the day his first grandson was born? I don't know but I thought it noble of me to go. Keep in mind I haven't talked to him since Christmas and am extremely mad at him and his damn disease he cursed me with. It was an awesome night out and I'm sure he would have been OK if I had left him there but still I decided to go out and find him.

Walking down the path along the river I took in the sounds of the extremely warm evening. It was one of those listen to the trickle of the water in the creek as the slight breeze wrestled through the tall grass kind of nights. I slowy made my way along the path looking for anything out of the ordinary. The moon wasn't full but it provided enough glow to light my way. I thought about screaming out his name but figured it wouldn't make a difference if he was passed out.

As I rounded a turn in the path I couldn't help but stumble over my fathers foot. It was an odd experience looking down at him lying helpless on the ground. I thought about how easy it would be to pick up a large rock and end his reign on this planet. Then again I felt sad that his life had now come to this. So I stared on just thinking about him and wondering how long I should leave him? Then I wished I had brought my camera.

Now some how my father has always had a weird sixth sense when it comes to people standing over him. Once, when I was younger, I stood over him for some odd reason as he slept. When he suddenly came too and punched me in my face without hesitation! Once again he came too, but this time he was to drunk to do anything except flop around and yell out "who are you?" I let him wonder for a couple of seconds before asking him "if he makes a habit of passing out in fields?" Then I stuck out my hand to help him to his feet. He was in bad shape and could barely stand so I offered up my shoulder to prop him up.

On the way back to the car he never asked me a question and I never spoke to him. Instead he went on a rant about how passing out in a field was better then passing out in a gutter like his father. Ah grampa Chereck, not much to know about the man other then his love for alcohol and his love of the streets. Like father like son.