Rain pounds like hoof beats as I read under the school awning. Teachers raise their eyebrows at me as they trickle out the door. “School ended an hour ago, dear. I could give you a ride home, if you’d like,” Mrs. Williams, the elderly librarian, offers.
I shake my head. “I don’t mind the wait.”
“Only in fourth grade and yet so patient!” She pats the top of my head before hobbling to her car.
Mama told me this morning that Papa wouldn’t show up. Just like he hasn’t shown up for the past year. He’s too busy “boozing” and “sleeping around,” and he “can’t be assed to see his own daughter for just a few goddamn days a month.” Mama was wrong. He’s just busy questing for the king. But I can’t tell her that. I promised I wouldn’t.
I kick my feet and stare up at the ceiling. An old copy of the Brothers Grimm’s Rapunzel lays open on my lap. An illustrated hero climbs a stream of long hair flowing from a tower window. Maybe I’ll ask Papa if we can go rock climbing and scale a tower to rescue a princess. Maybe then Papa will tuck me into bed like he used to, and tell me once again that he’s secretly a knight and make me vow not to tell anyone. Not even Mama. I’ll fall asleep to his tales of slaying monsters and saving damsels and the promises that I’ll join him on his quests someday.
“Penny!” a gruff voice barks.
There’s not a gilded horse or polished knight awaiting me, but Mama’s rusty Ford with faded red paint. Mama grips the wheel and scowls. Her hair is in a sloppy ponytail, and she wears a pajama top. The rain’s static sounds cloud my head as my smile drops alongside my heart. Mama’s mouth moves, but I can’t hear her words. And I don’t want to. I’ve already heard them every month since Papa left. But I know he will be here next month, perched with shining silver armor on a steed saddled with gold.
Emma Mitnik is a student at Central Connecticut State University