Song of a Story

Chapter the first:..

When I was a child, the world was perfect. Every spot of sun was just as bright as if it were strung from liquid gold. Every trip down the street was like a vacation to a private island...without the sun, sand, and beaches. Every haphazardly strewn together meal my Mother put out for us was as tasteful as a gourmet dinner. And even though we were poor...it never occurred to me that we were. My Father made sure of that. He made sure my world was perfect.

When I was a child, my Father...was my world.

Downtown New York City wasn't the most fabulous place to raise a child. There were gangs and homeless folks, trashed sidewalks and run down tenement buildings. On Broadway, the streets were paved with wealth, theater, and music. Here, the streets were paved with filth; Genese Street in particular. There was one upside to living here however, if one enjoyed air shows. At the end of Genese Street, in the distance, an annual air show could be watched. This dying day in autumn one such show seemed to be ending, a pair that seemed to have been watching making their way back into the alley-like confines of Genese.

The man was tall, with black hair and strangely unique golden eyes. His skin was pale by nature and darkened by life taken up mostly in the outdoors. The cloths he wore were nothing special, torn up faded jeans and a ragged t-shirt pairing with horridly worn in sneakers to show his place in society. If it weren't for the family resemblance, the little girl trotting gaily by his side wouldn't seem to be his. Her clothing wasn't spectacular, but in far better shape. Barely any holes in her jeans and none in her shoes, a pink shirt covered at the moment by a powder blue winter jacket, unzipped in the front. Between them, they could have been models for the salvation army fashion line.

“And then, Daddy, remember when they fell right out of the sky?” her voice was one of eager excitement, tugging relentlessly at the man's hand for an answer. “And after they fell, the went right back up, Daddy. Right back straight up, into the sky and over!”

Gentle laughter followed the pleading questions, and the Father nodded. “Yes, Hikari. I remember.”

“And, Daddy, did you see the thick glasses that some of them had? The boxy ones? On their heads?” she was in front of him now, walking backwards and pulling at his hand. He slowed his pace to keep from stepping on her. “Someday I want some just like that. And I'm gonna fly one day, too!”

“Yes, sweetheart, I saw them; they call them goggles. Pilot's goggles.” he replied to her initially, nodding as he did so and smiling afterwards at her eagerness. “Sure you will. I'll look forward to it.”

Here she paused, blinking up at her Father with curious disbelief. “I will, right?” she queried. “Daddy? I'll fly?” the question, the way it was asked, was a large contrast to the happy attitude of moments before.

It took her Father off guard, and he looked down to her face, so serious for a child of her age. The question, it seemed, was...immensely important to her. Something so important deserved a answer well thought. “Of course you will, dear heart.” a large and gentle hand was brought to rest upon her scruffy mop of strawberry blond hair. His own gold eyes met hers, the color of the young girl's mirroring his own. “And you know what else?”

The mirroring golden eyes lit up at the question, Hikari jumping up excitedly for a moment as she replied. “What, Daddy?”

“One day, to get you ready for that, I'll buy you goggles just like they had. A pair of your own, so you'll fly higher than any of them.” the daughter did not seem convinced, his reply not seeming right. “What is it now?”

“But...I don't want to fly in a plane, Daddy. I want to...I want to fly! All on my own, I do, to fly. Like a...like a bird!” She held fast to his hand as she spoke, tilting her head as if just now taking into consideration the offer he'd put out for her. A smile spread across her features. “But the goggles would come in handy then, too, wouldn't they? I can't wait, Daddy!”

He smiled again, about to reply. But another voice interjected. “Hiroshi!” it was feminine, distraught, frightened. “Where have you...been?” the Father, Hiroshi, looked up at the question. His gaze fell across a woman standing in the doorway to a smaller home inside one of the buildings on this street. She wore sweatpants, and a flannel button down shirt. Strawberry blond hair hung messily to her shoulders, parts falling into gray blue eyes.

“Rea...” he started, hating to see her worry. It hadn't been planned to stop and watch the show, it was only to be a short walk. The two had been gone, it seemed, for far too long.

“We went to see the air show, Mommy.” Hikari said curtly, skipping up to her Mother and throwing her arms around her waste, oblivious to the angrily worried look her Father was receiving. “We stayed to watch it till the end, and Daddy says that someday he'll get me glass...” she paused, stepping away from her Mother for a moment, thinking. Then a correction was made, “goggles, Mommy. Goggles just like the fliers had!”

“How wonderful.” Rea said with apathetic agreement. “Why don't you head inside, Hikari? And get ready for bed? Daddy will be in there to get you to sleep soon.” the daughter nodded, and swept past her mother and into the home behind her. Rea looked back to Hiroshi then, a panged question in her eyes. “Why were you out so long?”
A shake of the head in reply, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder. “We weren't out for long, and we didn't go anywhere dangerous.”

“Everywhere can be dangerous, Hiroshi! Something could happen...any day!” a step was taken back, breaking the contact of hand upon shoulder.

“What could happen, Rea? The park isn't far from here, we watched the show from down the street.” his voice was kept calm. This fight had been played out before, it was easy to tell.

“Something could have. She could have...or someone...” but her argument was faltering. No evidence to back the worry.

“What Rea? I was with her, she was fine.” reassurances at their best, his gold eyes softening.

“We still don't know what will...happen to her. We don't...know what to expect!” this fear was one that had been there for a long while. Five years.

“Well who's fault is that?” his calm exterior was faltering, a resentment held against even someone he loved. The resentment fell through to his speech, giving it a sarcastic, biting tone. “I signed that paper for you, Rea. Money! We needed it, remember? It was more important than-” the little one was watching, eyes wide and fearful. “...Hikari.”

“I...I'm ready for bed, Daddy?” the question was meant to brush what she'd heard aside. It was heard before...all but the last part. The last few words that had been stopped short. They fought a lot, she always heard.

Hiroshi looked to his wife for one moment more before stepping past her, tucking his hands underneath his daughter's arms and lifting her into the living room that doubled as a bedroom. “Of course, Hikari. My light. Lets get you sleeping.” It was like this every night. He would talk to her in the last moments of wakefulness, a ritual that would calm the child to sleep no matter how the day was. He was the plush toy held close to her at night, the prayer book on her nightstand. He was her security blanket, her Father, her world when she was a child.

When I was a child, my life was built on lies.