Academic journal article Hecate

'Father'

Academic journal article Hecate

'Father'

Article excerpt

My father had tried to kidnap me the year before. He wasn't interested in my elder sister, just me. Arriving after class, in his '70s bucket-seat station wagon, he said he'd come to teach me the electric violin.

'But I play the piano,' I had said, walking around to the driver's side. With the window rolled down and his elbow cocked against the ledge, his car seemed unbearably familiar, though it must've been at least three years since the last time I'd seen him.

'You don't think I'd forget, do you? You're the clever one. I bet you'd be able to play both at the same time.' He laughed.

His hair was still curly and unkempt. He had recently shaved, but his beard was resolutely growing back. I stood there for a moment, grinning, and then reached through the window to hug him. My book bag caught on the driver's mirror, yanking me back. He smelt of cigarettes and sweet rum. The lines in his face had deepened since I'd last seen him.

'Here, get in.' He reached over to the passenger door.

I paused. I'd better not.'

His arm jerked from its course and he hit the dash with his hand.

'Sometimes you have to make your own decisions,' he said. …

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