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Á¦ÀÛ : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)
¹ø¿ª : MIN (parkjunghoon@hanmail.net)

 

 

From the moment a father first lays eyes on his daughter...

She's forever daddy's little girl.

 

And he's forever her hero.

 

A giver of gifts.

 

A granter of wishes.

 

A knight in shining armor.

 

And in return...

She gives to him that love and respect... Which is special between dads and their girls.

 

I can't stand living in this house.

Well, where the hell were you last night?

Look... Will you stop giving me the third degree?

Of course, for my sister and my father...

That special love and respect took the form of...

I waited up half the night.

You don't have to wait up for me.

Guerrilla warfare.

I left the damn porchlight on until all hours. Do you have any idea how much that costs?

Sorry - take it out of my allowance.

But the week of my sister's birthday...

They brought out the heavy artillery.

Your curfew is eleven.
You want to be grounded?

I don't believe this! I'm eighteen!

Not until Sunday, you're not!

During that week, Mom was sort of like the UN...

Trying to mediate the warring factions.

Boysenberry syrup?

And failing miserably.

Why is he always on my case?

Well, uh...

Why can't she ever listen?

Me? I was kinda like...

Uh... Switzerland.

Can't we just...eat our breakfast in peace?

 

Now where are you going?

To school...

 

As for Wayne and myself, we'd learned to keep a low profile... During these skirmishes.

Kevin - Wayne...

 

Clean up the dishes...take out the garbage.

Because you never knew when you might get hit by a stray bullet.

And Kevin...I want those leaves raked and bagged tomorrow.

 

Your turn to wash, butthead!

The fact was, whenever Dad had an axe to grind with Karen...

He ended up grinding it on us.

 

Kevin? You might want to leave some of that pencil.

Oh...sorry.

Not that I was gonna let family problems interfere with my social life.

Kevin, is something wrong?

 

Winnie, I can't go to the movies with you tomorrow afternoon.

Oh...

My dad's making me work in the yard, cuz he's mad at Karen again.

Oh. Well, that's too bad.

You bet it was. Anyone with half a brain would agree that -

Your dad's being pretty hard on Karen.

Chicks always stick together.

Winnie, isn't it a little unfair?

Karen stays out all night, and I end up raking leaves.

Yeah, it is unfair.

Karen's too old to have a curfew.

No she's not. She's only eighteen.

Eighteen's an adult.

Fine. Throw the law in my face.

She'll be in college next year.

 

So what's that mean? That she doesn't have to listen to my father anymore?

Well, does he ever listen to her?

Yeah...of course!

I'm not listenin' to this.

No grades...no exams...

Daddy, it's a very good school.

The hell kinda college is that?

But it wasn't that Dad didn't listen.

He listened - he just didn't like what he heard.

Will you please tell him this isn't the Stone Age anymore.

What's that supposed to mean?

The thing is, I was beginning to see a pattern.

Whenever Karen said one thing...

Well...This is where I'm going.

Dad said the other.

Not while I'm paying for it.

And vice versa.

Fine. Then I won't go to college.

Oh, you're goin' alright.
And I'm sendin' you.

State has a lovely campus.

 

Ahem. Excuse me.

Armed with my new-found observations...
About the nature of interpersonal communication,

About the nature of interpersonal communication, it was time to come to the rescue.

- It seems to me that you two should..
- Kevin...Stay out of this.

OK. Glad I could be of help.

Wait a minute.

At least...as a visual aid.

Your brother's goin' to college,
your other brother's goin' to college...
and you're...goin' to college.

Thanks.

- Hey - I didn't do -
- Well, maybe I'll travel.

See the world. Go to the college of life.

Huh - what do you know about life?

I know plenty about life.

I'll go to Europe.

And who's gonna pay for that?

In a way, you almost had a feeling they didn't wanna be rescued.

You are so...narrow-minded.

Watch yourself young lady.

Think it's safe to go out?

I wouldn't. Unless you want to clean out the downspouts.

Sound reasoning.

It seemed like every time Dad and Karen passed each other in the hall...it meant -

 

Boys...

More slave labor.

Dad - I raked the leaves.

I straightened out the garage.

I walked the dog!

Oh.

There. We'd stumped him.

Not a chore left unchored.

In that case...come on.

Uh-oh.

This did not bode well.

If Dad couldn't make us work...

He was gonna make us play.

OK...let's hit a few.

Golf. Talk about punishment.

Now we were gonna find out just how bad the argument had been.

 

Yep - must have been a doozie.

Your turn, Kev.

 

Let's see your stance.

 

Ah, nah...Not like that.

Still, maybe this wasn't all bad.

You gotta turn your grip over...

Maybe hanging out with the guys...imparting secret grips...

Was just the thing to bring Dad's blood-pressure down.

You got it?

I think so.

 

Hey...There ya go!

 

I guess it was easier for Dad to communicate with the Arnold men because we were, well...men.

 

Uh-huh. Nothin' like whackin' around the old Pro-flite... To forge new and lasting bonds.

Maybe we oughta get you guys a starter set.

Oh, no thanks!

Shut up!

A small price to pay for a little good cheer.

Matter of fact, maybe we'll come again.

Maybe bring your mom, maybe your sis.

Karen? Space-girl playin' golf?

Hey...leave you sister alone.
She's not so bad. She means well.

Well, well - "not so bad"?

"Means well"?
Why couldn't he tell her that?

Come on...Let's hit another bucket.

 

Still, it was too bad Karen wasn't Arnold Palmer.

Pass me the popcorn, huh?

Sure, Dad.

Because I hadn't seen Dad this calm in over a week.

 

I like this show.

Me, too.

Me, too.

Yep - this was just like old times.

So, Mom? We gonna have a birthday cake...For Karen?

A cake?

I don't want a cake.

Sure you do.

No really, I don't.

I-I don't want a party either.

Oh, honey, it's not exactly...

What are you talkin' about?

Sure you do - you like parties.

No, really, Dad, I don't.

Fine.

Then we won't have a party.

Good.

We'll just give you your presents.

I don't want presents, either.
So nobody get me a present, OK?

Golf, anyone?

You're gonna get presents.

Well, I'm not gonna take 'em!

Woops - homework calls...

 

I'm going out.

In that?

My clothes are wrong?

My friends are wrong?

 

OK - we were one step shy of Armageddon.

This called for a voice of reason.

A note of conciliation.

Will you guys knock it off?
I'm tryin' to watch TV!

 

I'm outta here.

Honey?

And you don't have to bother to leave the light on. I'll manage just fine.

 

Tomorrow?

 

Mow the lawn.

 

Gotcha...

 

Gotcha.

 

Dad?

 

Hmmm?

Besides, you could kinda see...
He wanted to talk.

 

Dad, is there anything I can do?

 

I mean, I know you and Karen have been...

Well...I mean, I've just been thinking...
if you ever wanted someone to talk to...

I just want you to know that...

I'm here.

It was a bold move.
But I knew it was the right one.

Heck - you could almost see his eyes... Welling up with gratitude.

Kev?

Yeah, Dad?

Is there any more dip in the refrigerator?

 

I'll see.

And grab the chips while you're at it, 'kay?

Which, in culinary terms meant...
none of your damn business, I guess.

Well, I'm outta here.

Wait a minute.

Where're you goin'?

I don't know.

What does that mean?

It means what it means. I'm going out.

You're gonna be home for dinner - we're expecting you.

Your mother's makin' a cake.

Well, I already told her not to.

 

And suddenly, Dad was downright talkative.

Get your brother.

Aw, jeez.

This was bad.

You could see Dad had something in mind even worse than working.

Even worse than golf.

We're going shopping.

 

OK - split up.

Find a gift for your sister, and we'll meet back here in fifteen minutes.

Sure.

Fifteen minutes sounded like an adequate amount of time... For thoughtful purchase.

I don't get it. I thought Karen said she doesn't want any presents.

She doesn't know what she wants.

- But -
- Here's twenty bucks.

Roger.

So, what are we gonna get her?

 

Bug spray.

 

Well, I was on my own, here.

The only problem was, I had no idea where to start.

 

It seemed like the old standby's just weren't...right this year.

 

Something told me she wasn't quite ready for the royal walnut, solid-veneer dinette set.

 

I needed something special.

Something for someone turning eighteen - whatever that meant.

 

With two shopping minutes left,
I was beginning to lose hope.

I guess Dad was, too.

 

What's that?

None of your business!

Come on - I'm just askin'!

 

Well...

 

It was kind of expensive. But...

Great! Well, put my name on it, too.

 

- So, Dad? What'd you get her?
- Hmmm?

 

Nothin'.

 

Oh.

 

- Nothing?
- Nope.

Well, we have plenty of things to give her.
So don't worry.

I'm not.

But I was. Dad always bought Karen a present. Every year...

Without fail.

There's trash in the kitchen - take it out.

Wayne!

And suddenly I began to realize this was more serious than I'd thought.

 

What's that?

What's it look like?

Is that cuz of me?

Kinda.

It figures.

It was the longest conversation we'd had in...oh, about a year!

So...you coming to your party?

I don't know yet.

Well, I mean, Mom's baked a cake...

Who cares about a stupid cake?

OK - so much for helpful advice.

I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

 

Look, Karen...

You and Dad really have to have a talk.

- You know that.
- I don't think so.

No, really!

You're always mad at him. I mean, do you always have to be so hard on him?

Sorry.

 

I think you oughtta come to the party.

Why?

Was this chick dense, or what?

Come on, Karen.
Can't you just give in this once?

And the funny thing is, right up until the moment I said it...

I mean, it's not like you're gonna be here next year.

 

I guess I'd never really believed it.

 

Maybe Karen didn't either.

Well, thanks for the insight.

 

And suddenly...
She looked so...lost.

Karen?

 

I knew she needed answers.
About the future. About her life.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the answers.

Or even the questions.

 

That night, dinner lasted about six-and-a-half months.

Can I get anybody some more potatoes?

- No, thanks.
- Sure!

While Mom tried to fill the empty space with vegetables and starch...

The rest of us waited.

 

For the inevitable explosion.

 

I'm back!

 

But I can't stay.

 

Not even for cake and ice cream, honey?

Mom...I told you - I don't want a cake.

It's too late...I'm lighting the candles right now.

Kevin, honey - get the lights.

Well, the stage was set.
Bring on the fireworks.

 

OK - here it comes. Everybody sing...

"Happy birthday to you"

"Happy birthday to you"

"happy birthday...Dear Karen"

"Happy birthday to you"

There it was.

Eighteen years of hopes and memories poured into eighty ounces of egg-whites and sugar and wax.

It was enough to melt anybody's heart.

 

Except maybe my sister's.

There's my ride.

I gotta go.

And I guess that was the straw...
That broke the camel's back.

Not so fast.
You're stayin' here.

 

No, I'm not.

 

Yes, you are.

 

I'm leaving, Daddy.

And even though I'd been hearing those words for weeks...

suddenly I was hearing something new.

Or maybe it was as old as children.

And parents, and families.

 

You're not going until you open this.

 

What is it?

 

Open it.

 

It's my kit bag.

From the Corps.

 

Uh, I was gonna get you a...

You know...new one...

But I thought...You'd like this better.

It's, uh, for college.

 

Or if you go someplace.

 

Either way, you gotta have somethin' to put your clothes in, and, uh...

This one got me through a lot of rough times.

 

I love it.

 

These too?

 

Uh...Those are mine.

 

Thanks, Dad.

 

I've got to go.

 

Then go.

 

Hey.

 

D'you make a wish?

 

Yeah.

 

That night of my sister's eighteenth birthday...a lot of things happened.

Maybe more than she knew.

Because that night, when my father let Karen go out, he let Karen go.

 

And maybe that's how it had to be.

Children leave...and parents stay behind.

Still, some things are deeper than time and distance.

And your father will always be your father.

 

And he will always leave a light on for you.

 

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Á¦ÀÛ : iamy1004 (iamy1004@hanmail.net)