A Collection of Short Stories and Poems

My Dad (story)

Hello. My name is Clark. I am a four year old boy and I'm gonna tell you about an incident that took place three days ago. My mother teaches English at the Philadelphia middle school, and my father is a boxer. I never really knew what a boxer does. I had no idea. All I knew was that my father is a boxer.

One day, my father returned home at 6 in the evening. His face was bruised. When I asked him what happened to his face, he just said, "work". I didn't understand him. What kind of work requires your face being smashed? That day, on the dinner table, I wondered that I had never seen dad wear a suit and go to office, like Mr. McKinney next door or Mr. Miller across the street. He used to go in a sweatshirt and shorts. My mother dresses more decently than him for work. I grew curious, and asked how was office.

He said, "Everything's fine, son."

"Why don't you wear a suit and go to work like other people?"

"We don't need suits at our place."

My mother was unusually quite throughout the conversation. She has a knack for explaining everything. And once she starts, she doesn't stop for a while. I never wanna be in her class.

"Where is your place dad?"

"Its nearby."

"I've never seen it."

"I know. Go to bed now Clark. Its 10"

"But, dad, I wanna see your office!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I said no! Don't you argue with me! Go to your bed at once!"

I left my seat, width tears in my eyes. I made my sobs audible so that they know I'm crying. I just wanted to see his workplace, no reason to be so rude for that. I wished my mom sympathized me and told something to dad. But she didn't. I ran away to my room, wailing.

It had hardly been five minutes after I closed my room's door that I heard my parents outside my room. I had long forgotten about how I was mad at my dad, and was already in the world of Spiderman and Batman, when I heard mom say "I told you this would happen. You gotta tell him what you do"

"He won't take it Angie. How can he walk to the gym and see what I do?"

"Mom? Dad?" I asked loudly. No one replied.

Then they opened the door and entered. My dad first. I was lying on my bed. He came and sat down beside me.

"Still mad at me son?"

"Kinda." I looked away from him. I wasn't mad, I was just loving the attention.

"Do you have school tomorrow?"

"Who has school on weekends dad?"

I still wasn't looking at him. There was a long silence, and I sensed that my parents were talking in silent gestures.

"Son," he finally said "I'm going to take you to my workplace tomorrow."

"You are?!" I almost jumped out of my bed and looked at him in amazement.

"Yes, he is! And I will come with you too," mom said. 

"That's great daddy!"

I hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Now go to sleep, we've got a long day tomorrow, don't we?"

"Yes we have! Good night dad! good night mom! I love you both!"

"We love you too," dad said. They left and closed the door. And I can swear that I slept for only five minutes that night! I was so excited!

The next day, I wore my best clothes. A smart white shirt, black trousers, a bow and a blazer. I went out to the living room. My mother was in the kitchen, preparing sandwiches.