Chapter Three

Chapter Three

I woke up early on Saturday�"before sunrise. I had barely slept that night, and although I wasn't eager to get out of bed, there was a certain excitement I had about starting the day. Not that it was a good excitement, it was mostly driven by anxiety and uncertainty. I paced my room for hours, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling of too much energy. I wondered how my dad spent his endless hours, with only a few feet to pace. My dad. So many questions ran through my head so fast that I barely knew what I was thinking. I glanced at the clock every half-hour, or so, urging time to go faster. Still, it kept it's slow, steady rhythm, numbing my frustration, and putting me to sleep.

“Maddy.”

“Huh?”

I could feel the crust in my eyes, the mark of a sleepless night. My mom's face came into focus.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” I picked up my purse and let my hand rest on it once it was hanging from my shoulder. My mom opened the door for me, and together we stepped out into the day.

The first thing I noticed is the quiet. With the exception of a “chirp” here or there, the silence left a deafening echo in my ears, even once we were in the car with the engine running.

It's a long drive, and I found myself drifting in and out of sleep. When I was awake, my mom and I didn't speak. There was so much to say, but no way to say it. I wondered what the ride back would be like.

I stared out the window, trying to understand what it's like to not take the ugly view for granted. Finally, my mom pulled into the parking lot of an ominous looking building. It reminded me of a slaughter-house. Which in a way, I thought to myself, it was. I stayed close to her, hoping that she would get rid of the eerie feeling that seemed to cling to my skin like an unwanted corset. With every breath I took, I could feel the poison of despair sinking in.

A guard stood in front of the doors. My mom showed him her ID.

"Hilary Simmons. I'm here to see Daniel Hayes. This is my daughter, Maddy."

He peered down at me. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"ID, please."

I handed it to him. What I remember most about him was how cold he was. He seemed to exhale ice with every word he spoke.

He handed it back to me. "Is this his daughter?"

"Yes." I had never been identified as anyone other than my mother's daughter. And here I was, the daughter of a man I didn't know, who hadn't the faintest idea that we were about to come.

"Didn't know he had a daughter," the guard remarked, casually.

"Neither does he."

I turned to look at my mom. He didn't know? That thought had never crossed my mind.

Finally, the guard opened the door for us, and we were thrown into a place more solemn than a graveyard. Every step bounced off the dirty walls and ceiling. I found myself thinking about my cello. I had developed an ear for good practice spots, and echoey buildings were number one on my list.

We walked through metal detectors, had our stuff looked through countless times, were patted down by business-like female guards, and finally were walked down a cold hallway to white doors.

"Condemned Unit." I held the bile on my tongue, and let the acid burn my throat, as I forced myself to swallow it. The guard walked with us.

"Take a seat," he said. There was no emotion in his voice, as if it feelings were forbidden here. I guess it made sense, if you started to feel, how could you survive?

It was sterile. That's the only way to describe it. Sure, there were black marks and scratches on the floor and walls, but the smell reminded me of the doctor's office.

We sat in plastic chairs that were reminiscent of the chairs we used to sit in, in kindergarten. Through the window of scratched glass, I could see closed doors lining an empty hallway.

We weren't the only ones there. It was cramped, as a matter of fact. For some reason, I expected the condemned to be abandoned, but all the people here proved me wrong. They still found love in their hearts for someone who would bring them pain in the end. I marveled at the concept of being so vulnerable, when I heard the clanging of metal.

I looked up to see an unkempt man in shackles on his wrists and ankles. A guard was behind him, pointing to a seat right in front of us.

This was my father. I felt panicked, and claustrophobic. I wanted to run out of this disgustingly clean place, but there were guards everywhere. There was nowhere to go. No place that they wouldn't see me.

He picked up a phone, on the other side of the glass. My mom picked the one on our side. I leaned in closer to hear.

"Hillary."

"Daniel." I noticed the tension with which my mom held herself as she spoke his name.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His gaze shifted to me, "And what is that?"

"I don't know, to your first question, and to your second...this is your daughter."

"I've got a daughter?"

She nodded.

"And you never told me this because?"

"You were too angry to believe me."

"Jesus, Hilary, I had a right to know. Well, it's over now. They say I'm going to die in eight weeks."

"What about appeals?"

"What's it going to do?"

I could tell that his words had silenced her.

"She could use some make-up."

"Daniel!"

"I'm just saying." He tried to hold his hands up in surrender, but the chains restrained him. We sat there awkwardly for a few seconds.

"She has a name you know."

"Yeah? What's your name, kid?" My mom handed me the phone.

I cleared my throat, trying to relax myself enough to speak, "Maddy."

"Maddy Hayes. That's some pathetic name, if you ask me."

"Maddy Simmons."

"Huh. The 'Simmons' makes such a big difference."

"Look, I don't have much time. But I wanted to come, to show you Maddy. She deserves to know her father."

"Even though he's a rotten scum-bag?"

"You are her father, Daniel. And it's not right for a girl to go her whole life wondering who her dad is."

I was surprised out how calm my mom came across. Every word was clearly annunciated, as if she had taken the time to chose them before she spoke.

I, on the other hand, felt my vocal chords tense at the prospect of speaking. My throat ached with resistance, and I wondered how my mother could talk at all.

A smirk, bittered by sour intentions spread across his face.

“I'd like to hear her say it.”

“Say what, Daniel?”

“Say that she needs me, her father.”

I recognized my cue, yet could not work up the courage to say the words. No, I thought, no, I don't need you. I heard the word, “yes,” creep out of my throat, like a cough. And now that I think about it, maybe my voice was simply a reflection of what I knew deep down to be true.

“Time's up. Come on.” A guard yanked my father out of his seat, and dragged him out of sight. And as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.

The drive back home was quiet. I let a couple of tears role down my cheeks, but for my mother's sake, and maybe for my own as well, I tried my hardest to keep myself together. Finally, my mom broke the silence.

“He liked you.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. He put on his best behavior for you.”

“Well if that was his best behavior, I don't ever want to see him again.”

“Whatever you want.”

Her words could not escape my mind. He liked me. The father I had always dreamed of meeting liked me. True, he wasn't the father I had always dreamed of having, but there was no denying the truth. He was my dad. And I would most definitely see him again. 

Reviews

[CrimsonBlaze]

Ooooh, bad father likes goody two shoes daughter. Well, I'm still loving the whole book so far, so keep going on. And about what I said earlier about the name, forget about that. I may have missed it, or immediately forgot about it while rushing to read this. ^( > _ < ) ^ . Anyways, I think it's going fine so far so don't sweat it. I'm actually impressed to see that nothing so far gave me reading complications. I understood everything perfectly, having talked about Capitol Punishment in class and peering over my mom's shoulder when she watches those TV shows that have that particular scene where one speaks to another in like this jail thingy (sorry, can't find the right word). Unlike, other books, this one isn't hard to decipher. Mine,( has some hilarious typos XD ) I have a lot of people who ask me about this and that because they sometimes don't understand a thing I typed. So, I'll just ahem.. read the next chapter :D