father’s secret
anonymous
my father overnment assistance1 gled mightily to survive. that spartan upbringing caused my father to be extremely tightfisted2
ot spending money from their parents, father for some. his face turned stone cold. “if you’re old enough to ask, you’re old enough to earn,” he rumbled3. and so, hborhood seeking odd jobs or peddling produce from the garden.
his attitude didn’t soften as ree. there h the bus stopped about trumbled4 (and my brothers grumbled a lot), he’d say in his loudest father-voice,“that’s s are for!”
so e, i kne alone along the high evening.
it had been a particularly difficult e. tests and long hours in labs had left me exhausted. i longed for5 home and a soft bed. as other students azed ging my suitcase to begin the long trek home.
a roe edged the drivehe7 because it meant that i , the hedge had just come into vieentle rain began to fall. i stopped to put a book in my suitcase and gray skimming8 along the top of the hedge, moving toe, , until he kneainst the threatening tears. he did care, after all.
on subsequent visits, that spot of gray became my beacon9. i could hardly h to reenery. upon reaching home, i innocently in his chair.“so! it’s you!” he’d say, his face lengthening into mock surprise.
i replied, “yes, dad, it’s me. i’m home.”
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