Dawn

It was years since I had driven on these roads, passed under these trees. I steered my car through the rough gravel driveway as the farmhouse came into view. I was flooded with images of my childhood. Times spent flying on the tyre swing that still hung on the apple tree. Mornings racing out to beat the rooster’s call. Slowly I took my bags out of the car. My eyes rose to the porch to see my father, standing, hands behind his back, eyes gazing fondly in my direction. I smiled at the man who had been my rock through all the years. I met him in front of the door and we embraced.

“My Jessie, welcome home.”

We walked into the house; family photos still hung along the hallway. Without a word between us we first headed towards my old room. As I stepped through the door I was filled with an instant feeling of calm and security. The walls were still lined with the eggshell blue wallpaper. The light oak bed sheltered by the mosquito netting, books of all shapes and colours stacked neatly in the matching shelf. Light blazed in through the window, making the room glow.

“I kept it all exactly the same, didn’t touch a thing, even down to ol’ Mr Ted.”

He gingerly picked up the raggedy bear that had been my childhood playmate, ran his fingers over the ears and placed it back on the bed. I settled my bags along the wall and turned to him.

“It looks perfect, Daddy.” I smiled, he smiled back.

“Well how about I fix you a nice cup of tea, I’m sure the trip’s tired you out.”

We re-entered the hallway and walked towards the kitchen. As we passed through the archway I stumbled back in shock. Piled high in the sink were stacks of dirty dishes, half used packaging littered the bench tops and the bin overflowed with food scraps. My father battered away the flies buzzing angrily, opening the cupboard only to find it empty of mugs. He looked at me, confused.

“It seems like we’re out of tea cups, you don’t mind using a glass one do you, Jessie?”

I stared at him, then at the used cups in the sink, then back at him.

“Ahhhh yeah of course Daddy, the city hasn’t made me that up-tight.” He burst out laughing.

“That’s my girl, knew they couldn’t beat their city ways into you however hard they tried.” I smiled at him; he clearly wanted to change the subject from the obvious mess. I had often wondered how he was managing without my mother to cook and clean, this had been her domain and it seemed he was too scared to breach it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon reverting back to our old banter mixed in with current affairs, time escaping us as day blurred into night. After dinner I returned to the kitchen and set about cleaning it till the early hours of the morning.

Days passed with nothing more said about the kitchen. Life went on as though we had travelled back in time. One afternoon I heard a loud crash in the lounge room. I raced in to find my father standing, with his hand mid-air, a picture frame smashed into pieces on the floor. He tuned to me.

“I, it just, I don’t know what happened.” He bent down to pick up the pieces; I left the room in search of a dustpan. Opening the broom cupboard I expected to find the dustpan in its usual place, it was not there.

“Daddy! Where did you put the dustpan?”

“It should be in the broom cupboard.” He shouted back. Unable to find it I returned to the room, spending the next half hour with him collecting each piece of glass.

The next morning clouds rolled over the horizon, darkening our home. The air rumbled with tension coursing through the air.

“Looks like it’s going to be a big one, I’ll go down to the store and get some supplies.”

With that my father left the house, the roar of the car engine mixing with the ominous sounds of the sky. I went out on the porch, bringing in loose furniture and decorations. Picking up a chair I saw underneath it the dustpan, innocently out of place. I returned to pick it up and placed it back in the broom cupboard.

As the clouds’ rumble turned into a roar, I walked down the hall, stopping in front of my father’s study. As I opened the door the heavens opened and a loud crash reverberated through the house, causing the lights to flicker. Unable to see through the grey that clouded the room, I turned on the light, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminating the den. I was shocked to find the room a mess. The almost militaristic precision in which my father had once kept this room clean, was gone. Out-dated newspapers and frayed photos covered the desk. The filing cabinets sat opened, papers spilling out of its casing. My father’s prized book collection lay in ruins, covers and pages stained with unimaginable liquids. I stood in the centre of the room, open mouthed in shock. Not hearing the door open over the cacophony of the thunder, I spun around in fright as my father bellowed at me.

“What? Who are you? What are you doing in my study? Get out!” I stammered as he stormed towards me, grabbing at my arm. “I don’t know what you want, but you have no place in another person’s home.”

“Da-Daddy, it’s me, Jessie!” He looked at me incredulously.

“Get out, get out! This is my home! GET OUT!” With that he lunged towards me. I quickly stepped to the side sending him barrelling into the wall and then tumbling to the ground. I ran to his side as his eyes fluttered, a low moan emitting from his lips.

“Je-Jessie? Wh-what happened?” Tears began streaming down my face as I helped my father to his feet.

“Nothing Daddy, you just tripped on a loose cable.” He stood up looking around the floor, searching for the offending cord.

“Oh, I see. I don’t feel so good Jessie.” I walked him to the dining room, sat him on a chair and placed myself directly in front of him. Resignation weighed down on my shoulders.

“Daddy, I think it’s time we talked about selling the house.” He stared at me shocked, confused, slightly alarmed.

“No, no, no Jessie we can’t do that. Where else are you going to have to escape to when the city gets too much? Where will I go to? I can’t leave here.”

“Daddy, I know it’s hard but, but I’m worried about you. I don’t think you can stay here by yourself anymore, and if anything happened to you I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Daddy, you’re nearly 80, I think it’s time we let go of the past.”

He stared at me, the fear in his eyes melting away into sadness as realisation dawned on him. He simply nodded and turned to look out the window, I followed his gaze. We both watched as the thunderous rain subsided, the clouds slowly parting. A single ray of sunshine broke through the dissipating clouds, shedding light on the now elucidated land.