Goodbye

8:04pm

I will describe what happened as accurately as I can.

 

I didn’t know her name. I almost died when I realised how stupid I’d been. But it didn’t matter in the end.

I was standing outside the front gate near the buses, trying to keep out of earshot of the other waiting parents, when she appeared. There were two lines of children following a teacher escorting them to the buses, she was somewhere in the middle of the line. I couldn’t back away, I knelt down and as the lines passed, gently tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around quickly, surprised, I knew she would be anxious not to miss the bus, so I walked in the same direction, and spoke quickly. By now the adrenalin had taken over, I couldn’t afford to be nervous, it was as if I had run out of nervousness anyway. I asked her if her mum was Monica. She looked hesitantly at me, she didn’t recognise me. But she said yes all the same. I then told her that Monica had asked me to pick her up. She stopped. She looked back at the teacher in front of the line who was now shepherding the children through the bus doors, and back at me. She was very small.

“But aren’t I meant to catch the bus?”

I wanted to tell her everything then and there. I told her that the bus was going somewhere else today, and that her mum was working, so she needed me to take her home. Though she looked slightly nervous, this seemed to convince her. I was so relieved.

I led her to my car, she sat in the back seat. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

My anxiety had returned, I sat down in the drivers seat and almost dropped my keys trying to start the car. I drove away from the curb, in front of the still-loading bus and was silent for a few seconds. I couldn’t speak.

She broke the silence herself, “Are you sure this is the right way?”

I wanted desperately for her not to be scared, but I couldn’t for the life of me think what to say. Somehow I must have assumed she would understand what was happening.

She started to fidgit, “Um, I think you’re going the wrong way.”

“Don’t you remember me?” I finally blurted out

“What?”

“I’m the man from the bookshop, remember? We talked?”

“What bookshop?”

“You don’t — you don’t remember? You.. you talked to me, you don’t remember?” I stammered, she could sense that I was uneasy. I could see it making her uncomfortable. For a second she glanced around the car, then looked back at me, she still seemed nervous but she was calming herself.

“Oh yeah, actually, I think so.” She had no memory of me. Maybe she was just being polite, she wanted me to settle down too. She was trying not to make Me less anxious. There was another silence.

“Sorry what was your name?”

“Sophie.” Her name was Sophie.

“Um, ok, Sophie, there’s.. something important I need to tell you,” I started, she was looking at her legs. I was circling the suburb, I couldn’t really concentrate on any particular destination.

“You see, I’m… well, I’m your dad.” How did I ever think that would be the best way to start?

She looked up suddenly, and stared at me curiously for a few moments. I must’ve sounded so damn stupid.

“No you’re not.” she said, confused

“Well, the man you live with, you see, he isn’t actually your dad. Your real dad is, me.”

“Nah. You’re not my dad.”

My mind was scrambling, I wasn’t thinking in a straight line any more.

“Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who… You can come and live with me, you don’t have to stay at home.”

“What? But I want to go home.”

“But I’m your real dad!”

“I don’t know who you are.

 . . . Why are you crying?”

 

“Because… I’m very… very stupid”

There was a long pause, I’d stopped the car.

“Sorry.”

“No it’s not… don’t worry, it’s not your fault”

“I’m sorry you’re not my dad.” I couldn’t look at her. “I can’t go with you now, I have to go home. Maybe I can be your friend instead?” She wanted me to stop crying. I begged her to forgive me.

 

I drove Sophie home.

 

I caught a glimpse of Monica when I dropped her off. I’m sure she saw her get out of my car. It doesn’t matter any more.

Sophie said we could be friends.

She doesn’t need to worry any more. I will never bother her again.

I will never bother anyone again.

Matthew Nicolas Parr

Panic

2:34pm

I am waiting outside her school for class to finish. It is a Monday, so she would usually catch the bus home by herself. The school bell will ring at 3:05 and the children catching the bus will come out at around 3:15. I am parked a few metres behind the bus stop, I managed to get a good spot, I arrived about an hour ago. I will meet her before she reaches the bus, and I will tell her that I am here to take her home. That I am a friend of her parents.

I’ve never been so anxious. I have been wiping the sweat off my palms on the sides of the car seat for about 20 minutes now. This is it. I can’t believe I’m actually going through with it. I know exactly what I’m going to do, I’ve gone over it a million times, but I still can’t see myself actually doing it. But I’m here. I’m writing now to take my mind off it.

I feel so criminal, it’s like all those ‘don’t ride with strangers’ warnings from back at school. Damn I’m hyperventilating. But this is different, this isn’t abduction, this is freedom. She wants to talk to me, she made that clear I remember, but she doesn’t know how important it really is for us to meet again.

This is destiny, I can’t do anything else, there’s nowhere else for me to go. I have to talk to her. This impending conversation is one I’ve had countless times over in my mind, for weeks now. There’s a lifetime of things I want to say, things she must know, things she’d want to know. Eventually we can make up for all the time we’ve been apart; this is the first step. She doesn’t have to suffer any more, she will find this out soon.

My hands are shaking so typing is becoming difficult. Ok maybe if I stop thinking about it I’ll calm down.