Special

Chapter 7

Where are you, Allie? I wondered while I waited outside the boutique we had agreed to meet at. It was not like her to be late. I reached into my pocket, retrieved my phone and called her.

'You've reached Allie. I might've misplaced my phone, or I'm simply avoiding someone. Please leave a message, and if I don't call back, that person is probably you.' Like the first three times I tried calling, I was sent to voicemail.

I sat down at a public bench nearby and texted:

Where are you? I'm at the boutique.

I waited for a response, constantly checking my phone. I waited and waited. No reply.

A shadow cast over me as a couple holding hands flew past high above me.

Laughter from across the street grabbed my attention. A long and short-haired girl and a boy — all slightly older than me — strolled down the street on the opposite side of the road. The long-haired girl had her phone out, showing the others something that must've been amusing because they were all laughing.

Short hair snatched the phone and ran. Long hair pursued her. Short hair dodged and threw the phone to the boy. Long hair doubled back to the boy. He threw the phone back to Short hair who multiplied into two versions of herself.

She threw the phone to her double and then to the boy. Long hair ran back and forth between them. This went on until the long-haired girl managed to wrap her arms around one version of the short-haired girl before she could toss the phone. The short-haired girl's double merged into her. The girls laughed and continued down the road with their hands around each other. The boy followed a few steps behind.

My phone buzzed. Allie? I thought.

It was a text from Dad requesting to see me.

Dad pulled out a red model sports car from the inside pocket of his blazer during dinner at a Reny's restaurant. He presented the car to Cody. 'Thought you might add that to your collection.'

'Awesome!' Cody eagerly accepted it as Dad showed him some of its features like functioning doors.

Reny's was an old family favourite restaurant. With its excellent playground section, long-wave ability inhibitor and dedicated staff to monitor children, Reny's was one of the few kid-friendly restaurants that could keep Cody entertained when he was younger. The food wasn't bad, either.

'I didn't forget about you,' Dad told me.

He reached into his other interior blazer pocket, pulled out a book and handed it to me.

I accepted it. 'Thanks.'

'You welcome. The lady at the bookstore said it was a recent bestseller.'

It was a special edition copy of "The Hunter's Curse" — a book Dad might've known I'd read if he was around more often. Him trying to be "Father of the Year" out of the blue was odd. I hadn't given it a lot of thought, but Mum had a valid point about Dad not being around much. He'd been absent for months — first emotionally, then physically. He would frequently disappear. When he returned, he was often dishevelled, but what was more peculiar was that he seemed increasingly happier.

When my treatments began, Dad would always be there with Mum. He would often read to me when I was hospitalised, even when I was old enough to read on my own.

One particular story I loved that resonated deeply was Mutt — a tale about a literal underdog. A story about a dog and wolf-hybrid mocked and labelled a mutt by his purebred peers because of his unknown breed and distinct appearance. Dad must've read it to me a hundred times. Like all of the stories he read me, Mutt had a happy ending.