Looking Back

Chapter 6: Sunday

The next morning, I woke up at 9:30 a.m. to get ready for the church service that started at 10:45 that morning. Felisha invited me to go when she dropped me off yesterday from work. I really didn't want to go, but a part of me did, so once I was dressed, I went to the kitchen to get me a glass of orange juice. My dad was in the living room already in his recliner with a beer in his hand.

"Where do you think you're going all dressed up?" he asked not quite drunk yet. His voice was turning raspy.

"To church," I told him.

I don't know why but the mentioning of church made my dad laugh. It was loud and obnoxious and began to grasp my nerves. "Oh, so now you're going to church huh?" he laughed, then raised the bottle to his lips taking a long drink. "You're a dumb ass you know that?" He looked up at me.

I stormed in the kitchen angrily and opened up the fridge yanking out the orange juice. I rinsed out a used cup and poured me a glass. When I drank some, I immediately tasted something weird in the juice. I quickly ran to the sink and spit it out. "Dad, what did you do to the orange juice?" I asked wiping my mouth off.

He busted out laughing again. "Everything is good with beer," he boasted. When he calmed down, he said, "Baby, don't worry about it. You should drink too. It won't hurt you. It only gets you loosened up...and happy."

I ran my hand through my long red hair. Was he crazy? I couldn't believe it. I poured out the rancid orange juice in the sink and looked for something else to drink. When I found that there was nothing to quench my thirst except the nasty facet water, I left the kitchen to go to the bathroom so I could rinse my mouth of the foul taste. By the time I was done, I heard a car pull up in the driveway.

Checking my appearance one last time, I headed for the front door.

"Get back in here. You're not going to church," said my dad, angrily.

"Yes I am." I stared him down.

"I said you're not." He stood up, but when he did, he lost his footing and collapsed to the floor.

"Dad," I yelled running to him concerned.

"Get away from me you good for nothing wench!" he yelled raises his voice. "Get out of here! GET OUT!!"

I rushed out the door with tears in my eyes. Felisha got out of her car worried. "What's wrong? Did he hurt you?" She placed a firm grip on my arm.

"No." I shook my head. "My dad said that I can't go. I have to stay." I looked up at her wiping the wetness from my eyes.

"Okay." She finally said after a moment of silence. She came to me and gave me a quick hug. "I'll be praying for you," she whispered in my ear. "If anything happens, give me a call."

"Thanks."

She pulled away and went to her car and climbed in. Instead of watching her drive off, I decided to go back inside the house. With the screen door slamming behind me, I noticed my father was in his chair.

His forehead had sweat dripping from it as if the act of getting into his chair took a lot of effort. His breathing came hard and fast like he just got through running.

"Are you okay?" I asked concern while moving toward him.

"Does it look...like I'm okay?" he asked out of breath.

"No. Do you want me to get you some water," I suggested.

"No." He wiped the sweat of his face using his shirt to reveal his two ton beer belly.

"Okay." I started to head to my room since there was no reason to stay in the living room. I wasn't needed.

"Wait."

I turned around wondering what he could possibly want from me.

"Go look in the fridge...and grab me a beer. Will ya?"

"Don't you understand that drinking beer is the reason why this happened? It's not good for you, Dad. It's bad for your health."

He smiled and spoke with a gentle vioce. "I think it's a little bit too late to try and tell me that, baby girl."

"Dad-"

"Damn it, just grab me a beer," he said changing moods quickly. His coughing echoed behind me as I made my way to the refrigerator.

After giving my father his beer, I went to my room worried. My father's drinking habit was worse than I expected. The picture of his hands shaking as he took the beer from me rehearsed in my mind. My dad needs help and fast.