Getting in the car after dad continuously called for me to hurry up and pestered me with questions like "When did you turn eighty?" and "Can you move any slower?" I began tying my shoe.
He's always in a rush even if he's an hour earlier than scheduled. I think it roots from the fact the cops never made it on time to save my mom and we were stuck helping a kid get down from a tree while my brother was bleeding out in the tub.
Wow, that's a bit dark, I apologize.
Buckling up I looked for where I placed my damn rice crispy treat. I could've sworn I just had it.
Then realization dawned on me as dad backed out of the drive way, my eyes longingly staring at the garage door closing.
I left it on the damn counter.
"Crap." I muttered.
This is how my days going to be I guess. Just one of those days.
He let out a sigh which I figured was for me but nope, "Naomi's dog got loose again, the damn things more trouble than Nicholas." (Nicholas the tractor stealing kid.)
Dad eyed the dog running around the street barking at all the cars passing and chasing the people on their jogs. That dog is a menace but he makes the days worth while. Especially watching people shoo him away and run like they mean it on their morning jogs.
Smirking at the Dalmatian, I watched dad drive slowly past the dog avoiding hitting or catching its attention.
"Chief, Janice and Coop said the Miller boy came by and burnt their barn down. Let us know if you see him." Officer Andy, or Anderson if you want to be on his good side, spoke through the walkie talkie.
Dad sighed and called them in to do a search for him. Ace doesn't make anyone's lives easier here and in fact he costs almost everyone a hell of a lot of money. I remember last summer he rode my dads cop car into the bar that shoved him out. So mature.
When I say he's a rebel, I really just mean he's a nuisance who hates following rules and cares about only himself. Can't blame him though, his father taught him that.
As for my own dad, he's taught me to understand that everyone has secrets and ugly sides, he says it's important not to label a person. He's a great parent, always has been, even when he was terrified about being a single parent. In fact he's a great person in general, everyone loves him.
Guess that's good for me, everyone loves me too because of him.
"Here we are, the library." He pulled in front of the double doors that I felt so at home with, and I hopped out in excitement before the car even came to a halt. "Geez kiddo, one day you'll break your damn ankle." He commented handing me my bag and giving me a small smile.
Smiling back at him, I shook my head and leaned in "Bones heal, but knowing someone got to my book before I did..that won't heal!" I said watching him laugh and sigh "I'll walk to the office when I'm done." He nodded "Be safe." I gave him a thumbs up "Always am dad." I responded wanting to just go get my damn book already.
A couple years back, dad had me try to train to fight in case of emergencies. I didn't take it seriously, and honestly it seemed a bit over dramatic. After all, I spend most my time in three very safe guarded places: the library where no bad things ever happen, my home with my armed dad and of course the police station that is filled with guns and trained officers.
Heading into the library I went for my favorite section, mystery. There is something about mystery that has your toes curl and your mind a jumbled perfect mess with all these possibilities and thoughts.
