Dad | 17 February 2022

“You do realize every time we visit your Dad you say it will be the last time we visit him, right?”

“I know, babe. But this time is different."

BNR Response

I paused, tightening my grip on the steering wheel and noticing my knuckles turn over white.  I took a deep breath and made the left turn into my childhood neighborhood.

“I’ve got to get Mom out of the house.”  I said, in a mumble, as I knew Rod wouldn’t like to hear this.

“Wait, WHAT?!  Oh hell no.  Hard pass.  I’m not going in.  You can’t sneak this under the radar in the last minute.  No way – uh uh.  Not cool.  NOT COOL, Bev.”  Rod stared hard out the passenger window at the adjacent field as if wishing he could teleport himself out of the car and physically far away from me.  He was worse than pissed, he was hurt.  Many a time I had gotten him out to my Dad’s house in the last year with ulterior motives: for drive-bys, to get my old things out of the house, to perform covert welfare checks on my 20-year old tabby, but this one was below the belt...and I knew it. 

We all knew Dad had a new fling, maybe she was the mid-life crisis girlfriend that he never had, and she was seemingly always around.  It was more than that, though, it was embarrassing.  She had died her white hair a candy apple red and wore lipstick to match.  She had gotten an obvious amount of plastic surgery that rendered it nearly impossible for her to close her mouth, and her lips formed an eternal “O” especially when she tried to close them.  Whenever I looked at her I couldn’t help but see her as a cross between Ronald McDonald and a blow-up doll.  Every time we were there she had some subterfuge to explain her presence…helping my dad clean the silver or returning a hatchet she borrowed.  Terrible excuses, but even if they had been better we all knew the truth.  I just wondered how Mom maybe felt about it.

So much of Dad’s behavior had become humiliating over the past twelve months that I had felt the need to be strategic about my trips so as to both accomplish my objectives and limit interactions with Shirley.  I couldn’t actually remember her name but there is some movie where Shirley MacLaine ironically dies her hair fire engine red and, unable to separate the image, the nickname stuck.  He had taken up a bunch of new hobbies, most of which had been introduced by Shirley.  There was the experimentation with Furries, the season of tandem pottery making (think Ghost), and the dabbling with painting live nudes.  Through all of it, Mom had been a sport, though she had been playing a shrinking role in the household through it all.  I wasn’t looking forward to telling Rod about dad’s latest venture.

“Look, I told Dad we were going to swing by on our way to the lake house to pick up some of my old books...”  Rod inhaled through his front teeth and I kept talking hoping to block his ability to remind me how shady this was, “He got all excited and asked to show us his new taxidermy projects,” the wind made a squealing sound as it passed through Rod’s clenched jaw, “and so I said you were into it!  And that you would check it out while I gathered my stuff!”  I was nearing my street and let my eyes dart frequently over to Rod, not wanting to actually turn my head to witness his full reaction but just enough to see if he was about to tuck and roll out of the Saab.

“His TAXIDERRRRR…”

“Hear me out!  Hear me out!  Hear me out!  It’s the perfect cover!”  I wince and open my eyes just enough to be able to continue safely driving, “You can be with him and Shirley while-“

“Her name is Elaine, and you know that.”
“Fine, with Elaine checking out the badgers or chickens or whatever he’s…’stuffing’ in his workshop and I can go find Mom and get her out.”

I was pulling into the driveway, and dad came out on the porch to greet us.  There was no more time to chat.  Rod was seething.

The plan mostly worked.  I hugged Dad warmly, glaring at Shir-laine as the reason I couldn’t have a normal relationship with my dad anymore, and made a beeline inside.  I heard Rod, the dutiful accomplice, immediately fall into place by asking about the “new hobby” Dad had been working on in the woodshop.  Dad, Shir-laine, and Rod shuffled fairly quickly out through the house and into the backyard where dad’s shed was.  I scoured the house for Mom, unable to find her anywhere.  I checked the window seat in the sun where she used to sit with her books.  I then moved to the attic where she’d comb through her old hope chest and our baby clothes to pass time.  I went to the kitchen, where she spent countless hours trying to perfect both old family recipes and new meals at all hours, especially during sleepless nights.  No dice.  I was becoming worried.  Had that redheaded blow-up bitch finally fully weaseled her way fully into Dad’s life, shuffling Mom to some far corner of the home?

I emerged from the dim house into the sunlight, the rays bright in my eyes.  I put my hand at my brow while they adjusted and approached the workshop.  As I neared the door, Rod came out abruptly.  “Ugh babe.  I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to-“

“Dad?!  Dad.  Where is mom.  Where is mom.”

Rod formed a human door between me, Dad, and Big Red and took me softly by both arms.  Just then I thought I could see Mom through the shade in the back of the shed.  I walked in the large structure, more a barn than a woodshed, and was immediately put off by the smell of turpentine and critters.  Dad’s ‘creations’ were everywhere: a racoon was standing on two hind legs posed with his nose to a silk flower held in his own little paw.  A pigeon was hanging from the rafters, its false eyes hadn’t quite adhered, leaving it to resemble a mutant coming in for an aerial attack.  A catfish was blowing glass bubbles towards a nearby squirrel who bore such a wide-eyed look of delight that it stopped me in my tracks.  Oh, Dad.  This hobby had really taken off.

I could hear all three of them coming in after me, trying to stop me, but I didn’t hear their words.  I got to the back of the barn, found Mom, and wrapped her in my arms.  I no longer cared how it looked. 

“Kiddo…Bev?  Wait, kiddo.  It’s not what you think.”  Daddy said quietly, and I felt a pang go straight through my heart.

“I’m sorry, Dad.  But it’s time that Mom come stay with me for a bit.  I know you’re experimenting with a lot of new things but I just don’t think it’s best for either of you.”  I didn’t waste an opportunity to shoot Shirley another dirty look.

I turned on my heel to exit the barn and dad said, “That’s just it kiddo, she’s not in there anymore she’s in here.  He motioned first to the urn in my arms and then to the spirited stuffed raccoon.  Oh god, Dad, what had Shirley gotten you to do now?