Chapter 8: I’m not Your Father

Before we arrived at the school, the car came to a sudden halt in front of a police station. I wasn't up for that. All I wanted to do was just get to school.

A policeman in his fifties, with epaulets on his shoulder, stepped out from behind a crowd of policemen and walked up to our window and knocked, politely. I knew something was up, but I had no idea what it could be about.

Jonathan gestured to the driver not to react as he opened the window and got out. "Officer Marcel, I see If you're not busy today, you seem to assume that I am in trouble again. Do you think I'm responsible for smuggling banned substances?" Jonathan said. That's when I realized what it was all about.

I noticed that the expression on the officer's face changed from one of a shock to helplessness and he said, "I never meant to trouble you, it was just a routine check because a murderer escaped."

"Here is my only daughter," he said as he opened the door and let the officer have a look.

"Your daughter? She has grown up so...!" he said when he saw me. I couldn't figure out Jonathan's thoughts exactly. I once made a wish when I was twelve, never to be separated from my father. But he said, "Don't call my father anymore, and you can't tell anyone that I'm your father. Remember?"

I didn't know what was wrong with that sentence, but I nodded anyhow. Then he added, "You should walk behind me whenever we go out, and don't drag my sleeve." I nodded sadly and never called his father again.

I didn't understand why he told the officer I was his daughter that day, though. "Police Marcel, if there is nothing to discuss, I need to send my daughter to school, or she could be late," he said. I looked at my watch, I was already late.

"Wait a minute! "said the officer, "Now that you have a daughter, stop your illegal business... "

"Police Marcel." Jonathan interrupted, "Even a judge can't convict someone without evidence. You can't fabricate such a story."

"You know what you have done," the officer reminded him. Jonathan opened the door, but before he got back in the car, he paused and turned around saying, "I originally intended to be a good man, but you didn't give me a chance..."

Ever since Jonathan got in the car, his expression was somewhat fierce. During all these years around him, I've certainly seen him lose his temper, but he would never show such an expression on his face, even if he beat someone to death. The officer surely knew a lot about Jonathan if he affected him so much. "Did he hold Jonathan's secret?" I wondered.

There was silence. As I was about to get out at the school gate, he suddenly grabbed my hands, holding them tightly in his, saying, "Desiree, what kind of person am I to you?"

I wished he would go to hell, but said, "If you think you have done the right thing, don't care about others' opinions?"

He seemed unsatisfied with my answer and looked a bit gloomy. I added, "No matter what people think about, you have always been a good father, a gentle and kind father in my eyes." He frowned, with no smile. I continued, "In my eyes, you are the best man in the world that no one can match up to."

He laughed...I was speechless, a superficial compliment even an idiot could distinguish. But he took it seriously. He asked again, "Are you serious about what you say?"

I nodded earnestly. I thought even one of the boys in my class wouldn't be as simple-minded as he was.

My feet were paralyzed after standing in the corner of the classroom as punishment for being late. By the time I got back to my seat, my feet were aching so much. "Desiree, you poor thing!" Vicky, my desk mate, and best friend said.

"It is clear that our teacher is out to get you because other students are not treated like this," she said and looked much more pitiful than I did. I gave her a tissue to wipe away her tears to save my distressed heart and said, "Hey! Get over it!" Then she wept her tears and continued her novel.