I Love to Write
Capricorn in Aquarius - Part Two
When Daddy came home, he brought his suitcases back and there was no more mention of a possible divorce - at least not in my presence.
That was a Sunday. His rehabbing of me began the next day. It wasn't Mom who took me to school, it was Daddy. Just like this last time, it was each day and every day. He knew I hated school and the teacher, but unless I was deathly sick and it necessitated a trip to the doctor, I was going to GO every day school was in session. He pulled up in front of the old brick building, and I jumped out of the car before he got out.
"Where d'you think you're GOIN'?" he shouted. Every person on the street turned to look at us.
"School," I said in a small voice.
"Get over here - now!"
L swallowed. Daddy was mad. What for, I wasn't certain. But I didn't dare disobey the order, either.
I went to where he stood by the front of the car. He took firm hold of my wrist and walked me up the long sidewalk, into the front doors, and into the office. He stopped at the front desk and asked a secretary for a copy of the school calendar for the year. He folded it and inserted in his coat pocket.
"That's so you can't lie to me and Mom about when you need to go to class," he informed me. "Now, let's go."
Still holding my wrist, Daddy walked me down the hall and into the first grade room. He plopped me into my seat. I rubbed my wrist, hoping that the ordeal was over. At this point, Mom usually left me. Daddy leaned against the teacher's desk and made small talk with her, never taking his eyes off me, until the nine-o'-clock bell rang and the room was filled with open-mouthed staring kids.
"I'll see you at three,"he said curtly. He waved at everyone and left.
(To Be Continued.)
When Daddy came home, he brought his suitcases back and there was no more mention of a possible divorce - at least not in my presence.
That was a Sunday. His rehabbing of me began the next day. It wasn't Mom who took me to school, it was Daddy. Just like this last time, it was each day and every day. He knew I hated school and the teacher, but unless I was deathly sick and it necessitated a trip to the doctor, I was going to GO every day school was in session. He pulled up in front of the old brick building, and I jumped out of the car before he got out.
"Where d'you think you're GOIN'?" he shouted. Every person on the street turned to look at us.
"School," I said in a small voice.
"Get over here - now!"
L swallowed. Daddy was mad. What for, I wasn't certain. But I didn't dare disobey the order, either.
I went to where he stood by the front of the car. He took firm hold of my wrist and walked me up the long sidewalk, into the front doors, and into the office. He stopped at the front desk and asked a secretary for a copy of the school calendar for the year. He folded it and inserted in his coat pocket.
"That's so you can't lie to me and Mom about when you need to go to class," he informed me. "Now, let's go."
Still holding my wrist, Daddy walked me down the hall and into the first grade room. He plopped me into my seat. I rubbed my wrist, hoping that the ordeal was over. At this point, Mom usually left me. Daddy leaned against the teacher's desk and made small talk with her, never taking his eyes off me, until the nine-o'-clock bell rang and the room was filled with open-mouthed staring kids.
"I'll see you at three,"he said curtly. He waved at everyone and left.
(To Be Continued.)
61-69, F