A Runner With A Voice

Chapter 5

Sunday came and went. I didn’t really see my dad much. I had gotten up, went running, spent the day in my room working on my set list for the gig, and wrote a new song. Besides food and the bathroom, I didn’t leave my room. Cade came in for a little while to listen to me practice, though. He gave me a couple suggestions and we decided if we liked them or not.

My gig was at seven so Cade and I left around six. He helped me set up the stage and my instruments. By the time we were done, we still had about twenty minutes to kill before I had to be on so we sat down at a table. He ordered some food and I got water. We just talked and I picked at his fries. I usually didn’t like to eat before a performance because I always felt like I didn’t do as well as I do when I don’t eat. I don’t mind a snack like a few fries though. Water is great for before, during, and after a show. I love me some water.

The show went well though. I didn’t mess up or fall off stage which is always a plus. The audience was really nice too, which I love. All in all, yesterday wasn’t bad.

Now though, I’m eating breakfast at the table, and my dad came walking down the stairs.

“What you doing today, Alison?” He asked me, in a polite tone.

“I’m going to school. Then I have track until five-thirty and then my job at the café until nine so you won’t see me much today,” I told him as I finished my omelet.

“You can skip track for a day. Spend that time with your old man!” He told me. I rolled my eyes.

“Come on dad. You know I can’t do that. If I don’t pull through extra hard Monday through Thursday, I can’t sing Friday. That’s how coach and I worked it out.” I’ve told him this about a million times and yet he seems for forget. Perhaps forget isn’t the right word though. I would think that ‘refuses to acknowledge’ is a better term.

“Oh, you’re still doing that singing thing? I would have thought that you quit by now.” He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and pulled out some cereal.

“And why would I quit? I have the support of almost the whole town and most places I play at ask me to play there because it brings them more customers or whatever. Plus, I love it. I’m not going to stop doing something I love.” I crossed my arms. I was standing in front of the sink now, as I had just put my plate and fork in dishwasher.

“Oh come on. You’re not that good. You and I both know that. Just be honest with yourself pumpkin. You need to find something logical for a career.”

“You sound like mom, dad. And no, I’m not going to quit singing. I’m also not going to quit running.”

“Then what are you going to do with your life when those things fail you, huh? You’ll go broke and you’ll be living on the street. Then your mother and I would have to take our grown daughter in and practically baby you. That’s what’s going to happen with your brother if he doesn’t get off his ass.”

“You mean we’ll become like you? Fuck up adults? What, do you also expect us to get married at nineteen and pop out babies like there’s no tomorrow? Even if that did happen, we’d be better parents to our children than you and mom are to us.” I told him. His face got red in that moment. I swear, I thought he was going to explode.

“How dare you talk to your father like that? You have crossed the line, missy. You are one disrespectful little shit, you know that? I know that your mother and I aren’t here all the time, but we give you kids everything. We’re good parents. You have NO right to tell me otherwise.”

I scoffed at that. “Good parents. Right, that’s why your twin daughter and son have to practically raise themselves since their older brother moved out. It’s not you that keeps us out of trouble. It’s us. We gave ourselves an eleven-thirty to twelve o’clock curfew. We earn money to go to the store and buy our food. We buy our clothes, we bring ourselves to school, and we keep our grades up. We clean the house. Cade and I are the ones who have raised us. We raised each other. Cade and I take care of each other, because you and mom are too pussy to do it yourselves. So excuse me for thinking that you and mom have no right to tell us what to do with our lives. Excuse me for not wanting to tell you about my life because I know that you’ll just tell me I’m doing everything wrong, when I KNOW that I’m doing everything right.”