"Ainsley... you grew up so beautifully." Martin whispers, taking one step closer to his daughter when she takes one step back. He reaches out to touch her face, but his restraints stop him mid-motion. "But you're still my little girl."
"I was never your little girl." She snaps. "I'm here for an interview and that's it."
"Oh, that can wait. I haven't seen you since you were five years old--I bet you barely remember me." He sighs. "But I never forgot you. I thought of you, and your brother, every day after my arrest. I thought of all the events I missed--birthday parties, ballet recitals, father-daughter dances... do they still do those?"
"I don't know," She says, but an angry smile creeps across her lips. "But I do remember going to all of mine with Gil. The man who was actually my father."
"No, no, that's where you're wrong." Martin stiffles his anger, trying with all his might to keep his voice steady.
The one thing Martin Whitley hates most in the world is being compared to Gil.
He hates that man with every fiber and nerve in his body--Gil Arroyo. The name is venom on Martin's tongue.
Gil was the one who comforted Malcolm when the police drug him out in cuffs and slipped him hard candies to distract his mind.
Gil was the one who sat in the front row of Ainsley's ballet recitals, the one who escorted her in her little ball gown and princess tiara to every father-daughter dance.
Gil was the one who carries Jessica's perfume on his cheap coat, the one who held her hand and told her everything would be okay.
Gil is the one who took Martin's place as Ainsley and Malcolm's father.
If only he had drank that tea...
"Dr. Whitley? Are you listening?" Ainsley snaps her fingers in Martin's face. Close, but not close enough to cross the red line. "If you aren't going to take this seriously, I'm leaving."
"I am, I am." He assured, but the sting of Gil being there when he wasn't--couldn't--is still fresh in Martin's mind. "But, please... call me dad."
"Biologically you might be my father, but you'll never be my dad." Something inside her urged her to speak on. "That title belongs to Gil. He is the one who showed me what a real man is. He is the one who held me and told me everything would be okay, just like he did mom and Malcolm."
"No!" Martin screams. "No! Gil Arroyo is a pathetic excuse for a man. He's... he's a vermin who preyed on vulnerable people and slithers in and takes my place."
"And why weren't you there in the first place? Why did he even get the chance to take the place?" Ainsley struggles to keep her composure, but at this point she wonders if she even cares if she snaps.
"That doesn't matter. What matters if you know the truth." Martin steps until his tether is taunt. "The truth is that I am your father, not him. He will never be your father."
"Neither will you." There is no composure, just raw emotion that had bottled up within Ainsley for years. "You are a monster, a vile excuse for a man. You will never be my father, or Malcolm's. And mom will never love you again."
Ainsley turns away and faces the nameless camera man. She pauses, and days, "This interview is over."
"Ainsley, please, don't be rash." Martin tries to get closer, but the tether is pulled as far as it can go. "Ainsley, get back here now."
He reaches out to her--just far enough to catch a lock of her yellow hair and feel it slip through his fingers as she fights off tears.
Why cry for him? He's a monster. She thinks as she passes the threshold of Martin's cell. Monsters don't deserve people crying about them.
"Ainsley, come back!" He screams but she's too far gone. "I was a good father, dammit!"
She left and she won't come back--she's too far gone.
All that's left to do now, Martin thinks, is curse the name of the man who took my family from me.
He stumbles over to his cot and lays down, not bothering to let Mr. David undo his tether--it didn't matter, nothing did.
"It doesn't matter what Gil has plagued her mind with," he says aloud, speaking to everyone and no one simultaneously. "She will always be my little girl."
YOU ARE READING
The Coolness of A Dead Man's Hand - Prodigal Son
Short Story"That's the thing: I do. I do deserve The Surgeon's pain because I'm his son. My real name is Malcolm Whitly. I changed it because I wanted to get away from him. See, I thought that I was afraid of my father and everything he taught me. But really I...
