Willa Mansi

Dad

There was no real reason to leave. Most people in Hotel City was friendly towards me; with Jim being the only exception. He gave me hated glances from across the street or restaurant, but he kept his distance. I studied as much as my head would allow me to. Many days ended with headaches.

Today was no different. My head pounded as I locked up the lab and walked down the street. I went to the hotel restaurant and ordered supper. I took a slow drink of coffee and sighed heavily.

A bottle of pills was slammed on the table, "Those will help."

I looked up at Pop and smiled, "Thanks. Join me?" He nodded at the waitress and pointed at my table before sitting down. I took two pills and sighed, praying it would help.

"Why didn't you come to me?" he held out his hand to me, "I can see you're in pain."

"Didn't know you had anything," I smiled.

"Town doctor always has something," he winked.

"This one's bad, Dad," I moaned and rubbed my forehead, putting my hands over my eyes, "My eyes hurt."

"I know, Son," he whispered. I held my face for a moment and stopped breathing suddenly. My hands fell to the table and I looked at him. His blue eyes sparkled and his smile was sad. My eyes widened with clarity. He was my father! Everyone called him Pop, but this man was my real, live, in the flesh, blood FATHER!! The world grew quiet. My heart beat wildly in my chest and started feeling tight. I starred at Pop until my vision blurred. Pop put his hand over mine and squeezed it, "Breathe Son." I took a breath in and it shook. "Take it easy!" he urged.

I broke from his hand and stood up, "I have to go!"

He stood up and held his hand out to me, "I don't think you should."

My vision clouded again and I blinked. Tears rolled down my face. I looked around the restaurant. My mind flashed back in time. Pop had black hair and he walked up to me, with his arms out. "Come on, Son!" he laughed, caught me up under my arms and twirled me around. I was safe. I was protected, loved in my fathers arms. I swirled around the room, knowing that I was safe and loved.

"William!" a strong voice yelled and my body was shaken back to reality. My chest ached and I coughed hard. "That's it!" Pop laughed and helped me roll over. I coughed again and wiped my mouth.

"He's alive!" Mama cried out and relieved sighs were released around me.

I looked around at the crowd of people and down at the floor, under me. "What happened?" I looked at Pop.

"You stopped breathing, Son," he put his hand over my cheek and smiled through tears, "but you're fine now." Laughter and a small spattering of clapping came from around me as Pop helped me stand up. My head pinched and I leaned into his side. "Let's lay you down," he said softly.

I stiffened, "No. I need to go to my lab!"

"You've been working long enough," he shook his head and lead me towards the stairs. I climbed the stairs, with his strong arms guiding me to my room. He took the key from me and with one arm around my waist, unlocked my door. "We'll get you rested, then you can move in with me," he winked at me.

I watched him shut the door and let him lead me to the bed. "I'm so confused," I sighed.

"Your headaches got me to thinking," he laid me down and sat on the edge of my bed.

"What happened?" I frowned up at him.

"I think you had an aneurysm, Son," he shook his head, "Not a big one, but big enough to block your memory center."

"My head..." I rubbed my forehead, "....still hurts."

"What I wouldn't give for a CT scan or MRI," he laughed and I looked up at him. "Get some rest, Will. I'll watch you," he smiled.

"I am tired," I sighed heavily and closed my eyes.