Losing Father
“There’s
been a robbery at the store. Dad has been shot.”
That was how I heard about my
father’s death. Mark was seven. He had been playing in an inflatable pool
Griffin had worked four long days to inflate. It was hot and the sun was shining
brightly in the backyard. Mark kept getting in and out of the pool, chasing
blue and pink and red butterflies. I was drinking a homemade piña colada which had too much
Bailey’s in it. My feet were stretched out on the plastic recliner on the
veranda, and I was admiring the bright orange nail polish on my toenails when
my phone rang.
LE MADRE
“Yeah, mum?”
“There’s
been a robbery at the store. Dad has been shot.”
The
world stopped spinning. Everything went in slow motion. Mark hopping out of the
pool to chase a pink and yellow butterfly. The droplets of water condensed,
falling down the sides of the tall glass of piña colada. The ice blocks
floating on top of the creamy liquid.
I
hung up and dialed my father.
There
was no response.
I
called several more times.
No
response.
Mum
called back.
“We’re
at Saint Dimitris. Come to Saint Dimitris.”
I
stood up, but my legs could not hold me so I sat back down on the plastic
chair. I looked up at the blue sky and it had never felt so dark on such a
bright summer day.
Then
Julia called.
“Jay…
dad…” her voice broke into tears. “Did mum call you? Did she call-”
I
hung up and managed to walk to the pool, picking Mark up despite his refusal.
I
took him to the plastic chair and sat him on my lap, crying into his light
blonde hair.
He
said something I did not hear.
Griffin
called.
“Jay.
Where are you?”
The
world wasn’t spinning. Griffin didn’t know that the world had stopped spinning.
The tears that were falling down my face felt hot. My stomach felt empty. My
head felt light.
“…Janine.
Listen to me. Stay right there. I’m coming for you.”
Mark
took the phone. Told his father his mummy was crying and that he was scared.
The
world wasn’t spinning.
And
since that day, it hasn’t ever spun right.
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