It’s safe to tell this story now.
This story took place ten years ago.
The Lovechild in question was four years old.
Wifey and I had an arrangement. I took Lovechild to school, and she picked her up after.
Times and schedules sometimes necessitated that we swap pickups. We were younger and busier then; we routinely picked decisions that worked best for our family unit.
The child was conceived in love, which was evident in her beauty. We both loved our child unequivocally. And we, as parents, knew that whatever flaws we had individually when it came to our firstborn, we would die before we let anything happen to her.
And I wake up first. I’m a morning person most of the time. Back then, the Lovechild was too. In retrospect, she might have been a light sleeper. She had her room then.
I say that because the child has progressed beyond mirroring me. At this point, she is me in a tiny, beautiful body. No DNA test is needed with this one.
Let me explain.
When she was two years old, I had her on one knee whilst nursing a Chardonnay. As I presume is familiar with kids, she followed every movement with her large beautiful eyes.
Her eyes registered every motion down to my peristaltic swallow so often that I memorized the sequence;
Glass to mouth…
Hover…
Sip…
Swallow.
What grieved me was that somewhere along the sequence, she puckered her lips, squinted her eyes and raised all that divinity for a kiss.
Is my natural reaction up for debate? Of course, I reached down to peck her puckered cuteness.
As our lips touched, she licked my lips so efficiently that I felt violated.
Then she began licking her lips and smacking them.
The sense of dread I felt in that instant is impossible to express. You see, “a lion will never birth a monkey.” That degree of premeditation my daughter exhibited and successfully executed is me down to the crossed ‘t’s and dotted ‘i’s. Only I was written in upper case fonts.
People of planet Earth, I met mini-me that afternoon. And I was discombobulated. I didn’t know how to feel. Since I’m being honest here and now, I didn’t like how ‘I’ made me feel.
Let me explain some more.
Six months later, I awoke to her tugging my big toe at the foot of the bed.
“Potty…” She whispered urgently.
Wifey did a fantastic job potty training her. Down to teaching her to ask me for everything. The tremendous job she did right there.
Good thing my mom raised me right. I don’t mind.
So I left her handling business while I puttered about in our adjoining study to give her some privacy.
“Papa…” (For that is what Lovechild calls me)
“Yes, baby?” Thinking she was done.
“Jesus is coming soon.”
Ah!
At a few minutes past two in the morning, this girl was spewing heavy utterances!
I remember reiterating in my head that morning that people would not believe the things I see and hear first-hand.
I remember thinking, “What manner of problem is this now?!”
People of Earth, I am not ashamed to confess to a hangover when my Lovechild woke me up. I was groggy, inebriated and was transmitting a dull headache when she roused me.
Wifey and I were celebrating hours earlier. If I was this messed up, she was undoubtedly unconscious.
Lovechild’s vituperative about Jesus returning jolted me into immediate sobriety.
People of Earth, my mind returned to me in its majesty and tranquillity.
I inched closer and bent over double. “What did you say?”
“I said Jesus is coming soon!”
It was not only me that this child would traumatize. I ran into the room and practically fetched my fair lady into the corridor. She was a mess, but I knew she would suffer from what I just did.
“Tell your mummy what you just told me.”
“I said… Jesus is coming soon!”
I remember asking questions. This little light of mine had the audacity to wear a wan smile throughout the next minute without answering a question.
“I am done!” She stated. That statement was a double entendre because after she stood up, she uncharacteristically arranged her clothing and walked past us to bed. That was it. And her potty was empty. I was so traumatized that I made a Facebook post about it then. Just in case Jesus came by, I would have been blamed for not telling the good people of Earth despite being sent an angelic lovechild as a warning.
So, with these few explanations, you get the context of the sort of godly seed I was responsible for.
The morning in question was routine. Get Lovechild ready for school; get me prepared for the gym. Drop Lovechild off at school. Then I hit the gym until I drop into exhaustion.
And so I took a pre-workout shake before we left. From the house to her school and then to my gym was a maximum of twenty minutes daily.
It was enough time to get that drive and enthusiasm to kick in from the pre-workout shake. In twenty-five minutes, I would be a feral beast.
I dropped Lovechild off and was heading to the gym when I got a call from wifey. It turns out that there was no school that day, and neither of us knew about it.
Oh drat!
My wife was already out of the house, and the pre-workout made my face itchy. My muscles were starting to feel that pump…
I went back and picked up my ward, and headed back home. My mind and body, by that time, were firing synapses to the cosmos and back. But I was stuck with a child, and I had to get some exercise.
Then, I decided to drive to a small hill near a park nearby. It was a fifteen-minute climb. And with a child on my back, I could take it slow and steady.
Kill two birds, no three with one stone;
One, get some exercise before the pre-workout killed me,
Two, entertain her with a memory she’d never forget
and three, kill time from what would be a long day.
Masculine decisions like this are why females live longer than males.
People of Earth, it was the dumbest idea I have ever had in my fantastic life!
Halfway up the hill, I twisted my ankle mid-stride. And because of her weight on my back, I started to fall backwards. To stop my two hundred and forty pounds of muscle from committing infanticide, I chose to crumple back on the already twisted ankle.
The snap was so loud that I heard a nearby animal groaning in terror.
It took me a few seconds to realize the sounds were coming from my mouth.
Then the pain hit.
Lovechild was unhurt but weeping. Well, the blessed child was crying noiselessly. To that day, I didn’t know it was possible.
“Papaaaa…!” She finally cried out, pointing to my ankle.
Even before I looked, I knew it wasn’t good.
It looked utterly detached from my leg.
My phone was downhill in the car. And I was having trouble staying awake.
I recognized I was going into shock.
The pain was so severe that my body started shutting itself down.
Then I felt myself start to cry.
People of Earth, it was not the pain. I felt the shame of making the stupidest decision an intelligent person could make that was probably going to cost a child their life.
As I struggled to stop the meltdown and cry for help, I saw Lovechild walk up to a tree.
She seemed to be looking for something on the trunks of trees. She was circling a third tree when I began shouting for help.
Each shout I made was followed by screams I had never heard from anyone talk more about myself. Then, I would black out for seconds…
Then, paternal instincts would prevail. I would check to see where Lovechild was; then I would call out for help and pass out from the pain…
The third time I came to, I saw Lovechild standing before a large tree. She was about four meters away to my left. She was facing me, crying. The tree was between us.
I watched as the four-year-old cautiously knocked on the tree trunk.
She was sobbing heavily now, and she would pause and knock again and continue crying.
She knocked on the tree the third time and hugged the tree trunk as she would whenever she welcomed me when I returned from a long trip.
She had her eyes closed, crying and babbling gibberish.
I, too, began sobbing afresh.
My wife was going to kill my dead body. Because I would die if anything happened to Lovechild on my watch.
Then I saw her nod her head.
I cleared my tears and struggled to see who she was affirming.
There was no one there, People of Earth.
I focused and saw her nod again, and then the tree moved.
It was like a shadow stepped out of the tree trunk, holding her hand.
In retrospect, she looked relieved as she and the shadow started toward me, holding hands.
People of Earth, I don’t know about you, but that day, I chose to die fighting to separate my Lovechild from whatever entity that was.
With one explosive burst, I leapt up toward them, and my usually reliable earth suit powered down. I felt the pain from my ankle explode in my skull, and that was all I remember.
I could hear Lovechild calling my name across the ocean.
Then I heard her call me from inside the water.
Then she was calling me from beside me. I knew she was beside me this time because I could feel her warm, soft palm on my cheek. Only one other person dare touch my face like that, her mother. But this time I knew it was Lovechild because of the size of her palm and because my cheek was still wet from crying.
“Papa! Papa, get up… Papa, let’s go home.”
I opened my eyes, and my beautiful child was safe and sound in front of me. I jumped up and gathered her in my arms. Her short arms wrapped around my neck, and she hugged me back so tightly it hurt.
It was then I realized that I was standing on both feet.
My ankle was OK. It was solid. Both ankles never felt better.
I was still weeping, so I knew I wasn’t hallucinating. Lovechild was crying because I was crying, so I knew she was as traumatized as I was.
I looked around, and there was no other person around.
I stared long and hard at that tree and started to pick my way downhill.
I refused to look back.
I didn’t look back, not because I wanted to be more careful this time but because I wasn’t ready to confront what just happened. I could see no advantage in further inspection.
Shooting yourself in the foot once may be explained, but twice? Same foot?!
No…
As we descended slowly, I felt Lovechild’s grip around my neck loosen. And so I held her closer, more securely.
Ever hold a child facing you, and their head is over one shoulder? You can feel them smile at someone behind or wave. And as a responsible parent, you turn around to see what has caught the interest of your ward?
Well, I could feel her warm body ripple as she waved at something behind us.
Children’s heartbeats race quite furtively compared to adults. When they’re excited, their heartbeats can thud quite noticeably. Lovechild’s heartbeat was palpably pulsating.
I did not look back. Whatever was up there in the tree had my appreciation and gratitude. I was just determined there and then to take my child home safely.
We got into the car in one piece.
Before I started the car, we spent a few moments looking at each other. The understanding between father and daughter needed no discussion.
The love, the concern, the apparent power or gift she had, the implications of it all… We seemed to converse telepathically, and we looked away at the same time, smiling.
I didn’t tell her to keep the incident quiet. Unlike most children, she didn’t mention it to her mum (because I’m alive and writing this innit?).
Well, at least until she reads this story one day soon.
Wish me luck.
If you haven’t heard from me for a while, the wife has finally read it.
The End
This short story has been developed to about 50% completion. The whole story, alongside twenty-one others, will be released in my upcoming compilation of short stories, “22 Portals”. Please let me know what you think about the story in the comments.
Buy my most recent book? It is titled ‘111’. The ebook version was launched on the eleventh of January. It is available here.
