|[Story Name]||Sins of the father|
"God I hate that sound." Resonating in my mind over and over as I am
led to the car by my uncle. I know he means well but he has no idea.
Another sound I hate with my entire being. The sound of shovels scraping
over dirt and rock. I've heard this my entire life. It was a matter of
course to hear it from morning to night where I grew up on the farm.
Doesn't mean I like it.
From the side of the road as I slip into the car I can see old man
Hanson gathering up the last bales of hay for winter storage. Never
cared for him at all. Strange.. you grow up in a small town like this
and everyone can recall every instant of your life in a conversation,
but when something bad happens, well they are more content to whisper
and pretend you don't exist.
Is it my fault? Must be. Can't be anyone elses. Uncle Dale says that I
am a victim in all this. I don't feel like one. Him and Aunt Julia say
I'll be happy with them. How can they even think that?
I jumped a little, suddenly I am a timid mouse hiding behind the wood
stove and I just curl up in my seat in the car. I don't want to be here.
Not at all. Ever hear the sound of metal gates being closed? I hate steel
bars. I hate uniforms and blue suits. I hate black robes and those tight
assed women with good intentions who say that my life will be so much
I never used to though. I liked to get up at 5:30 with dad and get
breakfast ready while he took care of the stock. We didn't have much,
but I never suffered or lacked for anything. We were a team. A good
one. He made sure I did everything all the other girls my age were
doing. Except he treated me like a grown up too. I'd been sleeping in
dad's bed since mom died when I was ten. Not so long, only about five
years now. No one was supposed to know. It was our secret.
Until Aunt Julia came by early one morning and let herself into the
house. She caught dad and I sleeping late, 'cept we weren't sleeping.
I can still remember the look on her face when she yelled for Uncle
Dale to come in quick.
I think dad knew then he was in big trouble, I didn't though. I mean,
he had never done anything like this until lately, and I TOLD the social
workers that. I explained to the judge that I wanted him to. I
love my dad, of course he never hurt me. The questions. So many over
and over. I think they were trying to make me mess up. They had three
shrinks talk to me. Two said I was fine, and that I was never forced
or molested. The third said I was brain washed and dad was sick.
The third shrink is the one that testified.
That kind of leads me to believe this.. two out of three shrinks do
believe in love.
The third doesn't. He's the one who is the expert witness at my dad's
trial. Didn't matter what I said at this point. He knew best. The social
services knew best.. Uncle Dale and Aunt Julia knew best.
I know nothing.
They let me see him one last time, but only because I screamed and
kicked and hollered so much they had to. I threatened to run away,
anything so they would let me see him.
And I did.
I cried. I couldn't stop. I cried so much I don't think I will ever
be able to cry again. The gaurds told me not to touch the glass, or put my
hand against his. DON'T TOUCH THE GLASS.
I can't touch my dad.. and I can't touch glass. Not for fifteen years.
Yesterday at church the minister said some words. He said the sins of
the father are visited upon the child in his sermon. He meant me and
daddy. Everyone thinks I am tainted somehow.
No one would look at me and Aunt Julia held my hand so tight I thought
it would break. God knows everything, and I hope that is true. Cause he
knows dad would never hurt me, and that he loves me very much.
They sold the farm and put the money in trust. Who cares? I don't. I just
want my dad.
I kept our secret. Aunt Julia might have caught us while we were kissing
and cuddling, but they don't know all of it. By midnight tomorrow I'll be
gone. Long gone.
Dad's friend way up north knows all about me. He is close to his daughter
too and is going to help. I can't stay here, cause it will just get worse
for daddy if they find out that there was more than just alot of touching.
Fifteen years could get a lot longer when I start to show.
Dad knows and it makes him sad that he won't see the baby for a long time.
But when I am eighteen, I don't think they can stop me from visiting him,
can they? I hope not. I'll take lots of pictures and stuff for him.
No contact. Ward of the court. That's me.. but only until tonight.
I just wish I understood why it was a sin for a father to love his
I just wish I understood anything.