Script Reader

(Short Story- Part Two of Two)

Was this all the script was? Just reliving parts of my childhood that I was trying to forget? I shook my head and went on a walk, trying to forget the words on those crumbled pages but my mind circled around them for the two hours I was outside. I knew I shouldn’t be this consumed with the script, especially considering I hadn’t reviewed many others since I received the first installment. I’d have to pull a few all-nighters to catch up on the work that I had pushed off, but I knew I’d be uneasy until I had the third and last installment in my hands. Maybe the last script won’t be all bad? At least that’s what I was trying to convince myself, maybe the author sprinkled in some good parts of my childhood? That’s what pushed me to continue reading this second one and will carry me onto the third. 

My relationship with my sisters was strained to say in the least. I think Jade has deliberately turned Molly and Riley against me because of how I treated her a few years ago. I share a room with Jade now that I’ve moved in, though all I have in here is a bed because she was living by herself until I came back. She has let me know several times how much she despises me now that we share a room. Molly and Riley seem leery of me, almost as if they think I’m exactly like Dad and have no redeeming qualities.

I try to talk to them, even play dollhouse with them, but all those efforts seem to be in vain. The only times that they let me play with them is after mom yells at them for being mean to me, which only seems to aggravate them more.

Trust me, I don’t want to play dollhouse, but I’ve been trying to get to know them more, which is more than I can say about my own father.

My dad hasn’t even tried to visit me or my sisters at Mom’s. I’d receive long, incoherent texts from him about how sorry he was and how he was trying to get sober. But I’m not sure how long that’ll last or if I believe him. After a particularly rough hangover, he’d order me to throw away the bottles so he wouldn’t be tempted but after the hangover would subside, I’d find him digging through the trash to drink those bottles. I didn’t ever respond to the texts which I’m sure frustrated him, but I didn’t have it in me to care.

I didn’t see my dad for nearly two years after the vomiting incident. I wasn’t intentionally trying to see him, but my mom, sisters, and I ran into him at the grocery store.

I saw him first. He was in the bread aisle, throwing a loaf of bread into his cart when he looked up at me. My sisters were in front of my mother as she pushed the cart while I hung out in the back. I locked eyes with him and sped up, hoping he didn’t recognize me now that I was older, but I should’ve known that wouldn’t be the case. He met up with us in the next aisle, his cart screeching on the floor as he sped up.

Molly didn’t actually recognize him when he approached us. He had a thick beard now and a ballcap covering his presumably thinning hair. Although now that he was up close, I couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Hey guys, fancy seeing you all here.” He muttered, a hand rubbing the back of his neck as an awkward silence ensued. My mom had no interest in talking to him, not even small talk. She gave him a curt nod and moved past him, my three sisters going with her. At this point, he had practically blocked me from moving around him, which I knew was intentional.

“Hey Kit, how have you been? Have you been getting my texts?” He chuckled, his hands now firmly gripping the handle of the cart.

“Yeah, I have-” My words caught in my throat as I looked down at his cart and saw three bottles of Vodka. I sighed, anger bubbling up inside me. “But you’re still drinking so I don’t want to talk to you.”

He glanced down at the cart, cursing under his breath. “Kit, I-” He kept rambling on as I walked away, not interested in whatever he had to say.

I ran a hand through my hair after finishing this script. At a loss of words really. I know Jade said she hadn’t written it, and I believe her. But I wondered if she truly believed me when I said how scarily accurate this script had been in detailing my childhood. Although I knew she wouldn’t like a drop-in visit, I had a feeling she’d make all kinds of excuses on why I couldn’t come over if I did give her a heads-up.

Despite living relatively close, only about a half hour away, we don’t get together much. I suppose that’s more my fault as I haven’t given her much reason to want to be around me. I knocked on her door, anxiousness piling up in me as I waited for her to answer. I almost knocked again when she finally through the door open, her eyes narrowed as she stared at me.

“So, you’re just dropping by now?” Jade asked, a hand on her hip.

“Can I come in or are you just going to have me stand outside?”

She thought about it for a second. “Well, it is about to rain, would be fun to see you all drenched.”

I deadpanned her a look and she opened the door more for me to walk through. I hadn’t been over to her house since she moved in, which was probably two years ago. I helped her move her furniture but that’s because she didn’t want to hire anybody and called me instead.

As I sat down on the couch, she brought in a cup of water which I thanked her for. Her eyes dropped to the scripts in my lap, and she sighed.

“God, Kit. Are we still on this? Seems like there is no other reason you’d come to see me than these damn scripts.”

“I wanted to see you regardless, but I also need you to look at these.”

“Okay, I’ll look at them.” She grabbed the two scripts and began reading for the next thirty minutes, skimming the words on the pages quickly. The only sound in the living room was the pages turning from the scripts, she didn’t say anything as she read. She made faces from time to time and as she reached the end of the second script, her face scrunched before she set the papers down on the coffee table. “What the hell is this?”

“So, you see what I’m saying now?” Some relief flooded through me on this, knowing that I wasn’t overreacting.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She stared at the scripts before shaking her head. “Yeah, I do. I guess I didn’t realize they were this specific, I remember seeing him in that grocery store.” A shiver ran through her at this.

“I have no idea who would write this, Kit. But I don’t have a good feeling about it. Do you think someone is trying to scare you? Intimidate you by recapping some of your childhood memories?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Jade. But I don’t think I should brush it off.”

“No, no, I don’t think you should either, but I don’t know who wrote this or how to find them.”

I grabbed the papers from the table and shoved the scripts in my backpack.

“I wish I could give you some answers.” She said as I hung around her door.

“Me too, guess we’re both in the dark.” I hugged her before leaving and when I arrived home later that night, the last installment was already on my doorstep.

My high school graduation was less than memorable. My younger sisters complained the whole time that it was too hot outside, which it was but there was nothing I could do about that. My dad was absent from the time in that grocery store till now. No phone calls or texts, no random run-ins around town. It was like he had vanished, until today. When I crossed the stage and looked into the crowd, I spotted him first. He was a few rows away from my mom and sisters, dressed in a long-sleeve and black slacks. He appeared to be sweating through his shirt, much like I was in this gown. After hearing the long list of names, I finally reunited with my mom and sisters about an hour later, and as they congratulated me, he walked up.

“Hey, Kit…” My dad said, standing awkwardly beside my mom. She and my sisters left shortly after, leaving me alone with him.

“Why are you here?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“You graduated, Kit. I couldn’t miss that.”

“But you could miss out on everything else?” I scoffed. At this point my raised voice had drawn some attention so we headed over to his car.

His face was downcast, trying to muster something to smooth over this conversation. “I know you’re not going to like this answer, but it was easier for me to stay away from you guys than have you all be disappointed in me.”

Before I could get a word in, he continued, “I tried to get sober at least fifteen times and I knew that I shouldn’t be around you all until I finally got sober.”

“Have you been sober?” I asked reluctantly, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

“I have for about two years now.” He smiled, clearly proud of himself. I tried to give a smile, but the only thing on my mind was how long it would be until he picked up a drink again.

“That’s great, dad.” I finally responded. After that, we talked for a few more minutes before I headed back to my mom’s car. After that, he would text or call every now and then, and we’d make plans to meet up and they’d fall through. On the last time we ended up meeting, he relapsed. I guess he didn’t think I would be able to pick up on it after not seeing him drunk in so long, but as soon as I saw him waltz up I noticed. He tried to mask it by asking me a bunch of questions about how my life had been since the last few months that I had seen him, but we both knew that it would be the last time we’d see each other until he cleaned up his act.

And I haven’t seen him since.

The script ended there, leaving me with a bunch of questions about my own life. I grabbed my car keys and headed to the last location I wanted to go.

I pulled up to the beat-up house that was only a few streets away from me. I knocked on the door, pressing my ear against it as I heard some faint coughing, but not from who answered the door.

“Who are you?” I asked, my eyebrows raised as I took in her scrubs.

“I’m Amber, Dale’s nurse.” She looked me up and down for a second before realization dawned on her features. “I take it you’re Kit?” She asked. I nodded and opened the door to let me inside. I looked around the house, the walls were practically bare, little furniture strewn across the rooms. I stepped into the living room; the creak of the hardwood floor alerted my dad of my presence.

His face looked gaunt, adding at least ten years to him. His skin was jaundiced and by the looks of it, his arms and legs were a bit swollen. I stepped into the living room and sat down in the chair next to him, he still hadn’t uttered a word since I got here. It was clear he wasn’t going to, but I figured that could’ve been because I was probably the last person he was expecting to show up at his door.

“Why did you write them?” I asked, seeing no point in beating around the bush. He swallowed hard, caught off guard with the lack of niceties.

“It’s good to see you too, Kit.” He chuckled before a coughing fit interrupted him.

“I’m serious, dad. I know you wrote them.”

He fostered a small, sad smile. “I was trying to get your attention. Clearly it worked.”

“Why didn’t you just text me?” I stared at him; an overwhelmingly powerful feeling of sadness flooded my veins. He had been like this for a while, and by the looks of it, he didn’t have much time left.

“Based on our last interaction, I didn’t think you’d agree to see me. And I didn’t want to force you to come see me just because I’m dying.”

“Dying of what?” I couldn’t help but ask, not that it would make a difference in the slightest.

“Cirrhosis, but that shouldn’t be a surprise.” He sucked in a big breath, and in an attempt to quit talking about himself, he switched topics. “Did you like the scripts? I heard you’re a big hot shot over at that production company you work at.”

“Well, they were a little creepy. I thought I had someone stalking me at first. Even blamed it on Jade and the twins.”

He sucked in another breath. “Bet Jade didn’t like that.”

“No, she didn’t.” I laughed.

“I’m sorry I frightened you with them, but I figured those scripts would be the best way to get in contact with you and own up to all the shitty things I’ve done to you.” His eyes cast towards the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I mumbled, tears welling in my eyes at that statement. I knew that must’ve been hard for him, drudging up all of those painful memories.

“No, I did. I wish I could’ve been there more for you and your sisters, and I wasn’t the father you all deserved. You have no idea how sorry I am for that.”

“Well, we can make up for that now with whatever time you have left.” I said, grabbing his hand. He squeezed tightly, a tear rolling down his face.

“Really?” He managed to squeak out. I nodded and spent the next several hours with him catching up.

We had two months together after that, but it was the most impactful two months I’ve ever had. If I could rewrite the end of his script, it would read; “May not have always gotten along, but the love was still there.”