Father

Father



The pale red glow of his eyes cast shadows out from under his hood as he walked down the sidewalk. He had a busy night ahead of him, and he didn’t want to be late. He counted the houses between him and his destination… One, Two, Three, Four houses left. He liked counting. It wasn’t exactly fun, but it kept him focused and sane, depending on your definition of sane. He was on his way to see his little girl. She had just gotten back from Hawaii. She had sent him a postcard, one of the ones with palm trees and Hula girls decorating the front. Her soft, graceful 7 year old handwriting had filled in the back in neat little rows.

-2 Houses left… He smiled, his little girl always made him happy, just as they always had in the past. Something a bout the children made his day a little less stressful, it was taking the older ones that was so hard. They never came willingly. Whenever she had needed him, he had been there day and night in her dreams, and by her side. He did everything a proper father should, helped her with homework, told her to eat her vegetables, and told her he’d see her again soon. Too soon for her, but it was his job, what choice did he have? By helping her he had prolonged this visit by about 6 years.

-1 house away now… He began to cross the sidewalk and slant towards her door, leaving his walking stick propped up against the stoop. He went up the steps and rang the doorbell. It echoed through the cold November air with one prolonged note. The door opened and light poured out onto the stoop outlining a woman of about thirty in an apron.
“Can I help you?” She asked.
“He pulled back his hood and smiled, “I’m here to see Cindy, I’m here to see my girl.”
“What? Who are you, how do you know my…”
Her eyes closed, and she fell into his arms. He carried her limp form gently to the couch and covered her with a blanket. She wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.
“Is that you dad?” A quiet voice said behind her.
“Yes Cindy, your mother is sleeping. Where’s Jake?”
“Papa’s upstairs sleeping, is it time?”
He smiled, “Why yes Cindy it is, take my hand hun.”
They walked together out the door and into the night. He grabbed his sickle at the bottom of the stairs and replaced the hood upon his aged head.
“Where are we going dad?” Cindy asked shivering.
He smiled down at her and brushed the hair out of her face. “Home Cindy for a nice long nap.”
“Is it warmer there?” She asked smiling back.
He had to laugh, “Oh yes,” he said to her, “Quite warm.” He opened the gate for her.
“Good.” She said sighing. “I’m so tired.”
“I know hun, it’ll be over soon.”
He closed the cemetery gate behind them and locked it, then Cindy was gone, absorbed into the looming shadows of eternity. Carried in the arms of her loving father. And death wept one tear that dropped from under the hood of his cloak, and sighed.
“Cindy, you’re home.”