\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1766935-My-Father
Item Icon
by Jodbug Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Nature · #1766935
An afternoon with the most inspirational man I've ever met.
My Father

The gentle breeze tickled my face, through the humid air of mid-July. The birds called out to their lovers, flitting about in the waving trees, humming happily the tunes of summer. I was a child of nine, innocence in all of it's ever loving glory, round-faced and apple-cheeked, my one true love on my arm. He smiled down at me, his dark face shining, his green eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

"Come with me, dudette. I've got a little something to show you," he said, in his best surfer-guy impression, grasping my tiny hand in his giant one and leading me through the back yard towards the front of our house. The grass was freshly cut, and I can still smell it now, still feel it sticking to my bare feet as we wandered slowly through it. I can still feel the new growth of dandelions tickling my toes, and the begonias ripe, sweet scent wafting into my nose.

"What are we going to see, Daddy?" I said, gazing up at him, inquisitive. His face remained still, the corners of his mouth turning up only a little. He looked down at me, his face completely and utterly serious.

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you, Kiddo," He said, and then laughed his big hearty laugh, the sound tickling my very soul to the core.

I followed him, struggling only once in a while to keep up with his fast-pace, my curiosity growing along with my smile. We came to a halt in the front yard at the deck, the fresh stain still emitting it's pungent odor, the dark brown sitting in perfect unison with the dark brown trim on our white bungalow.

"Now, I know this is difficult for you," he whispered quietly, leaning down to me with a smile and a wink of his eye, "But you need to be quiet, Jo-Jo." I gazed up at him, giggling as I zipped my lip, turned the proverbial key and tossed it over my shoulder. He walked away from me now, his broad bare back glistening in the summer heat. I sat down gingerly in the grass, watching him and wondering what exactly he was up to.

He walked up onto the deck, stopping to grab a large container that seemed to be filled with something hard: I could hear it rustle when he stooped to pick it up. He opened it and cracked one of the somethings in his hand, bringing the contents to his mouth and munching on it.

They're peanuts! I came to the conclusion in my mind, and despite my greatest efforts I still could not comprehend what he was about to do. Although, I admit I might have wondered if he planned on sharing those peanuts with me!

He sat down on one of the eight green deck chairs, rustling the container and placing it on the table, hidden in the shade of the giant table umbrella. I craned my neck just in time to see a little creature gallantly scurrying over the cracks in the wood, stopping every now and then for a quick glance around. I stared in wonder as my father placed two peanuts on his shoulder, a grin spreading over his face. The chipmunk approached him quickly now, his tiny nose twitching. He clamored up my father's right leg, straight up over his stomach to perch on his shoulder, grabbing the first peanut in his tiny paws and working it quickly, shelling it and popping it into his mouth. My father sat perfectly still, looking over at the little critter and watching as he repeated the process with the second nut, his cheeks puffing out. My father reached down slowly, grasping more nuts in his hand and placing them on his shoulder.

I watched in wide-eyed wonder as the chipmunk sat patiently waiting for more peanuts, shelling each of them precisely and trusting this strange human-this man, my father, enough to remain on his shoulder while doing so. When his face was completely stuffed and bulging, he scuttered back down my father, running away quickly, presumably off to hide them for the winter. My father stood up, brushing the left-over shells from his shoulder and closing the container. Then he glanced over at me, winking again, his smile radiant, his skin glowing. I remember thinking how smart he was, how neat, how lucky I was...And how much I loved him at that very moment.


I think that this next item should be posted with my story as the two walk hand-in-hand with one another.

Gone

You left tomorrow,
twelve years ago, today.

I chase you through all the dark corners of my mind,
desperately grasping,
never catching.
Where are you?

I do not dream of you,
of the times we were together,
of your green eyes or your crooked smile.
Why can't I see you?

I do not hear you anymore.
I can not remember your laugh
or the way you said my name.
I can not fathom your sweet limericks.
Why can't I hear your song?

I do not feel you.
Your strong arms surrounding me,
your tender kisses.
I can't feel your warm hand on mine.
Where are you?

You died tomorrow,
twelve years ago, today.
Four words shattering my innocence,
bringing me to my knees.
I watched as the world fell apart.

A hole burned into my heart.
I was branded.
That night, I'll never forget.
So why do you elude me now?
Please come back.

© Copyright 2011 Jodbug (jodbug65 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1766935-My-Father