Sad and Afraid
...ummer and have a barbeque during the summertime. I cherished those Sundays and always felt a bond with my dad during them. This was most likely because I would never know how many there would be. Usually after a couple months of Sundays went by, my father would disappear yet again. These periods of silence were filled with sadness for me, but also peppered with a dose of dread because I knew one of the less favorable encounters was forthcoming. These encounters usually consisted of one of my dad’s brothers coming over to my house in a hurry to tell the babysitter that my father was on his way over to get his kids. We would then go to one of the neighbor’s houses while my uncle waited for him to arrive. One of these encounters stands out vividly. My mother was working and Babette and I were with the babysitter when my Uncle Joey came to the house and told us he was coming. Off we went across the street to the Gannon’s house. I watched from a third story bedroom window as my dad showed up, argued with his brother for a few minutes and then stormed into the house. Several minutes went by when we noticed a flickering, orange light coming out of one of the basement windows. It wasn’t long before the Police and Fire Departments showed up. Not finding us in the house, dad had decided that we must be being hidden in the basement and had lit a mop on fire to serve as a torch instead of turning on the lights. Sad and embarrassed, I watched my father get put into a police car and eve...