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Antiques by ken paul Novak ...cont. I thought that was the last of him. Three weeks went by and I hadn’t seen or heard a word from him. At night I dreamed about him showing up again, like a ghost, distant yet present. Sometimes in the morning I would be filled with a guilt that I could only explain by saying to myself that he was my father, and maybe I shouldn’t have turned him out. Maybe now was my turn to show him that I was better than he was, and when I got my long shot opportunity, I blew it. Sent him packing in the hour he needed me. If I would have been charitable, I might have hurt him even more. That would have been the unexpected shot. I was too predictable. Sunday morning, after church, the girls and I were in the cul-de-sac throwing the Frisbee, I heard the Monarch’s chirping fan belt over a mile away. He pulled into the drive, killed the engine after it shook the car for fifteen seconds, and sat down on the hood. “Can I help you?” I said, hoping the kids wouldn’t recognize him. “I’ve just come to see how my grandchildren are doing.” He was annoyingly cheerful. Rita was thin, tall and holding the Frisbee with both hands against her chest, like she was trying to hide behind it. Patrice, eight, froze by our mailbox. My mind already had a response to fire back. I needed to be unpredictable. I needed malicious charity. “Rita, Patrice, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Lionel McGurney.” My father looked at me and I knew I caught him off guard. I silently celebrated my surprise attack, but now I was afraid because I didn’t know how to finish what I started. The girls fired back two quick hi’s. My father’s face seemed to melt. His bushy eyebrows pushed out to the side of his face, his cheekbones dropped down as his lips curled up to lift them. His big nose flared out. He looked like a pathetic clown. “How old are you darling?” the clown said, looking at Patrice. “Twelve.” “I remember when your dad was twelve...” He got their attention and roused their curiosity. I needed to silence him.... |
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