Manimal Crackers

My New Friend

"Simon, why are we doing this?"

"Now, Miss Rothenberg, my daughter is returning from England, and we're going to give her our best wishes," replied Simon, holding up a sign that said "Welcome Home, Isabella!" in big bubble letters.

"Simon, my arm is getting super-bored. When is she coming?" I asked, tired of holding the goddamn thing.

"What did I tell you?" he snapped back.

"Sorry," I replied in a meek tone of voice. I was honestly pretty scared, as, like my own dad, Simon didn't get angry or upset too often.

"We're all going to be on our best behavior to make her feel welcome," he said to me quite sternly. I guessed he was kind of nervous about seeing her, too.

I didn't respond to him verbally, I just rolled my eyes. You might be wondering why the hell I (Jessica Rothenberg) am here waiting for Manimal's daughter (his actual one, not his on-screen daughter Carly Pope from Nightman.) It's a long story.

The previous March I had applied to college. You know how a lot of kids nowadays apply to 40 different colleges in case they get rejected by 39? Well, yours truly applied to only one college (her dad's) and she was accepted! I didn't even have to mooch off of Dad's status there, because they were already impressed by yours truly.

"So Jessica, why do you want to come here?"

"Well, I'm really impressed by your art department. Ever since I was a kid, I was impressed by the art of storytelling, whether it be movies, theatre, newspaper comics, newspaper articles, and of course, I like to go old-fashioned with actual newspapers!"

"Amazing. Well, you'd really be impressed by our theatre department here! We're getting the guy from Hamilton to speak next week. No, not the actor, the actual wrtier for the play!"

You really should've seen the smile on my face when he said it.

Naturally, my dear old Dad was over the moon. I still remember how excited Dad was when he heard the news. He picked me up and hugged me in delight.

"This calls for a celebration!" said Mom. "Next Saturday, we're all going out! Our treat!"

"Your boyfriend is invited too," said Dad. "The restaurant, of course, is your choice."

"Ummm...Greasy Spoon?" I asked. It was a rather mundane choice, but I didn't care. After all, it was my favorite restaurant. When I was a little girl, and anyone asked me what my favorite foods were, I listed restaurants.

And of course, my other Dad was pretty excited as well.

"Lovely!" said Simon. "My little girl is now becoming a college student."

"Your little girl?" I said. "I'm not your daughter. Not really."

He didn't say anything, but merely looked at me, honestly a bit dumbstruck.

"Well, in a sense, Miss Rothenberg, you sort of are," he said. "I've been watching over you for a long time."

"And as for college," I told him. "I won't be 18 for another few years. It's a tad early to celebrate, don't you think?

"Oh, I always celebrate the accomplishments of my family, whoever they are," said Simon.

"Whether it's my mother, wife, or daughter, I'm always there to help them journey into the next steps of life."

"Okay, so who is your daughter?" I asked him, actually quite curious to hear about her.

"Thought you'd never ask," he said delightfully, pulling out a leather wallet and showing me the pictures. One of them appeared to be an older picture of Simon and what appeared to be his widow and a happy little girl with blonde hair. "Her name is Isabella MacCorkindale. She is such a teenager. She's always saying, 'Dad, you're embarrassing me with your work!' I haven't seen her in a long time, but as a ghost, I've been trying to get in contact with her."