After a pause, Darin continues his story. "I buried her. Drank myself half to death. But I's kept on going. For my son." He sighs. "It was a cold winter. A bleak winter. My little boy… he didn't make it. By that point, me parents were dead. Most of my siblings were, too. I's had nothing."
Darin pauses. The words sink in. He takes a deep breath and continues, "The beatings and the whipping and the drinkin'… it got worse. I's drifted from place to place. I jus' kept fightin'. I had nothin' else. Eventually, someone noticed my fighting. Your dad. He hired me. And soon enough… I met you."
You laugh grimly. "What's the fuckin' point in my complaining? You've been through worse than I have."
"No," Darin replies without any hesitation. "Sayin' you can't hurt 'cause someone hurts more is like sayin' you can't be happy 'cause someone's happier. It's bullshite. And you, Arthur Hornraven… you went through a hell I never had to."
He takes another deep breath. "To me, you were the son I lost. And I could see what Sobik was doin' to ya. It's why I's followed you into that damn jungle. I couldn't lose my son. Not again." He looks over at you. "And not now."
You sigh. "I'm sorry… but I can't promise—"
"None of that," he interrupts. "I don't want promises. I don't need ya to fuckin' impress me." He says gently, "I just want you to be okay."
You sit beside him, unable to respond. You've never laid out your feelings to someone before. You never knew just what Darin went through.
He says, "Just know that I'm here for ya. Know that there's a meaning to this world. I ain't a religious man. I can't talk to you about God or whatever… but I know that a rough life is certainly a lot better than bein' dead."
"Okay," you reply, then nod. "Okay."
He laughs. "Seriously? I lay my life's story out before ya and that's all you got to say?"