Creative Writing Class: Father’s Day

Hello all! Life has been pretty hectic lately, so I haven’t been able to post here much. However! I have had the fantastic opportunity to take a creative writing class!! I’ve been having so much fun with this class, learning so many new things. One of the requirements for this class is to write a short story or a poem to show what we’re learning, and then have it critiqued by classmates. I’ve had so much fun writing these things that I have decided to post them here!

I will post my revised stories/poems here, one at a time so as not to overwhelm readers. My first one is a Non-Fiction piece about my Father’s Day trip, which I know I’ve mentioned before, but this time it’s more in detail about what happened during that trip! I hope you enjoy and I always appreciate any feedback you can give me! Thanks!

Father’s Day

“What in the world were you thinking, you idiot?! Oh wait! You weren’t!”

I kicked the side of the car, but not too hard since it wasn’t mine. That was probably a small reason why I was stuck on the side of the biggest highway I’ve ever been on in my entire life with not one drop of gas in the tank of my borrowed car.

“What the heck am I supposed to do now?!” I asked the speeding cars, but they payed no heed. As I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket I glared at the exit literally 20 feet away from me, the gas sign mocking me at how close I had gotten to a pit stop.

Luckily I had my mom on speed dial. As soon as she answered I fought back tears as I explained my situation: stuck on the side of the road with no gas and still at least three hours to drive. This seemed to be a recurring pattern for me. Every time I tried to go on a trip completely on my own, something catastrophic happens.

Just as my mom was giving me instructions, a truck parked behind me and a gentleman about ten years older than me hopped out. I kept my mom on the line, just in case, and waited for him to come to me. “Is everything alright?” he asked over the din of cars.

I hung my head in shame, “no, not really! I ran out of gas.”

I expected him to laugh at me. It was no less than what I deserved, and I wasn’t done beating myself up over it. Instead, he nodded and told me to wait for a sec while he returned to his truck. After digging around the back he came back with my rescue: a gas can. “I’m with the state roadside assistance, we’re prepared for pretty much anything. If you want I can give you about three gallons of gas or so until you can make it off of that exit over there and fill up.”

I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, but it was very difficult to keep that commitment without talking. With a cracking voice I asked how much I would owe him, already trying to calculate how much three gallons would cost.

“It’s completely free, the state covers the expenses.”

Yup, there are the tears. I thanked him profusely and told mom what was happening, who then wanted me to thank him for her as well. The man gave me a survey card for me to fill out, told me his name, and stayed on the side of the road until my car started and I was on the road again.

I made it to the gas station and sat at the pump, trying to get control over my emotions again. My eye caught the envelope on the seat next to me, it’s pale blue paper contrasting against the dark gray leather, and the stark black lines reading “DAD”. I remembered the whole reason I was on this trip, and that helped me get back into gear. My trip wasn’t over quite yet, but hopefully this was going to be the extent of my problems.

I reached Pennsylvania without further incident and I was looking the apartment complex my dad was living in. I quickly became confused, Google maps was confused, and I was strongly reminded that my sense of direction was very lacking. I slowly circled the three different buildings looking for C, my phone already pressed to my ear listen to mom trying to help.

“I can see which building you need from the pictures Dad sent me, but I just can’t figure out where it is in regards to where you are,” Mom told me, sounding a bit exasperated. “It really shouldn’t this hard!”

I laughed, “yeah, well, this is me we’re talking about, remember?” As I turned the same corner for about the fifth time already, I groaned out loud and hung my head. “I found it… I’ve been driving past it this entire time. The letter is missing from the wall.”

I heard my mom sigh in relief, “Oh good! At least you found it!”

“Yeah, good point. I do feel a little silly though. I’ll talk to you later, love you!”

I said good bye to mom and quickly pulled into a parking spot, praying that there wasn’t a guest parking I had to worry about, and exited the car with my package.

The red brick building towered above me, at least two stories high, with fenced balconies made of painted metal. I stepped up to the door that had a panel of buzzers for each apartment, some of the labels so faded that I couldn’t read them. I quickly found dad’s apartment number and pushed the button, anxiety trying to bubble it’s way up while I waited. What of this still wasn’t the right building? Or maybe I rang the wrong buzzer and I disturbed some other resident?

The door still didn’t open, which brought on a whole slew of worries. Did I ring an empty apartment? Was dad not home? Was he okay?? I took a deep breath to try and calm myself. If I kept going I would come up with the worst possible situations and work myself up over what was most likely nothing.

“Are you trying to get in?” I looked up with a start at an old man who was standing on his balcony looking down at me.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I’m here to visit Jay, is this the right apartment?”

The man nodded, “Yes! Here, I’ll let you in, just give me a moment.” I thanked him as he shuffled back into the building, and a short moment later the front door buzzed, letting me know that I could now enter.

As soon as I stepped in my nose was assaulted by the strong cigarette smell that all old apartments seemed to have. I ignored it however and found the door to dad’s room and knocked.

“…Hello??” a deep voice called out, sounding very confused.

“Hey Daddy!” I called back.

“Jasmine?!” I laughed to myself at the image I had of Dad’s surprised look, “Hold on!” I heard various noises as he worked his way to the front door, still grinning to myself.

The door opened and dad stood there, his frizzled fu manchu mustache the only hair on his head and pure shock on his face. “Jasmine! What are you doing here? Come in!”

I stepped into his apartment, absently noting the messy state of the floor, and hugged him tightly. “Happy Father’s Day daddy!”

He hugged be back tightly, “Oh, thank you honey! This is definitely a surprise! I wasn’t expecting you to come all the way down here.”

I looked up at him, “Well, I figured that since it had been a few years since I got to spend Father’s Day with you in person and I was only a few hours away this time I would come say hi.” I handed him the card and wrapped gift, “So here I am!”

Dad took the gifts and put them on his cluttered desk, repeatedly muttering “wow.” I knew I would surprise him, but not quite to this extent. “I was wondering who was ringing my doorbell! I never get visitors so I thought someone just rung the wrong one.”

I shook my head, “Nope, that was me. An old man living above you let me in.”

He grinned at that, “Ah, that would explain it. He’s really nice, isn’t he? I couldn’t ask for a better neighbor.” He looked around, muttering “let me find you somewhere to sit” and pulled up a folding chair. “Here you are. Wow, I can’t believe this! My daughter on Father’s Day, that is the best gift anyone could ask for!”

I just smiled. Being stranded on the side of the road, getting lost, every trial and stumbling block I had to deal was more than worth it to see the joy in my father’s face. It was the least I could do to thank him for the hard work he was doing in order to provide for his family.