I discovered that my dad was not my father when I was 10 years old.
My parents were divorcing and fighting bitterly. Mom was packing her bags in the bedroom and I could tell she was crying. I was sitting on my bed in my room. They didn't know that I could hear them, through the walls.
I heard dad demand of Mom -- "Who is Kiyara's father?" TYhere was total silence. We had just done the whole biology thing at school, so the conversation was making more sense to me than it should.
"What do you mean?" Mom finally said.
"Kiyara. Your daughter. Who sired her? I'm impotent, so it wasn't me."
Reflecting back on the whole episode, I realised that the dead silence that followed that statement was the sound of the penny finally dropping.
As it was, my ten your old self had no idea what impotent meant. But I knew that it had to be bad.
"How--how--how long have you known?" Mom stammered finally.
"Since Kiyara was born, but my guess would be Walter Skinner. The FBI man."
"Why would you guess that?" Mom retorted.
"Amara told me."
"Amara would tell you anything as long as it made her look good. Walter turned her down, and she hates him for that."
Dad chuckled. "And you expect me to believe that?"
"Do what you want. It makes me glad we're leaving. I dont want you poisoning Kiyara's mind." Mom yelled.
"Poisoning her mind? You're the one who's in denial. She's a bastard child, thanks to you. But before you go, I just want to know who the father is. No clues?"
"Fuck off, Brian. Go back to your bimbo. This isn't one of you tests in one of your classes. I'm not required to answer this!" Mom slammed the lid of her case, stopmed down the stairs and yelled for me. I picked up my suitcase and slowly went down to her.
I wanted to say something to them about the hurt they caused me, that how my life was a pack of lies thanks to the knowledge that my daddy didnt exsist. From that day on, I vowed never to call Brian "dad" again. Now he was a stranger. Now he was just Brian.
I kept quiet as I followed Mom out the car, but that name stuck in my head. Walter Skinner. Who was he? Was he really my father? I needed to know.
Two weeks after that, my class at school went on a field trip to the J. Edgar Hoover building. It was on this trip that I hatched a plan. It seemed simple then, but looking back it was utterly stupid.
I walked up the the guard and explained to him that I'd discovered that I had a cousin working here, a guy named Walter Skinner. Did he know what he looked like? I just wanted to see his face, cause his side of the family didn't want to know about ours.
"I can do better than that", the guard kindly told me, and discreetly pointed out a group of men coming from a bank of elevators.
"He's the tallest one," he told me. I looked. He looked very tall, very stern and very scary. Then he smiled at something that someone said and burst out laughing. He kinda looked like me then, and I hoped desparately that the guard wouldnt notice the resemblence.
I quickly thanked the guard and rejoined my school group. But I was happy. I loved his laugh. It told me that he was an okay guy. As a kid, you always had inbuild dectecion for life's shitbags. Walter Skinner was definately not one of them.
I was convinced there and then that I'd found my father.
* * *
I didn't actually meet him til five years later.
I'd kept a scrap book on him, collecting anything I could find on the Internet and in the newspapers. I was intensely proud of him and I'd built up an image of him as some sort of superman. When his wife died, I'd felt a kind of morbid delight, cause this would mean that he would be free to marry my mother, but my rational side took over. I even sent him an anonymous sympathy card.
The night I met him, I'd come back from a study date. Well, thats what it was supposed to be.
My best friend Caris had had the smart idea of iviting her boyfriend and his best friend. We were all supposed to be studying math. After 15 minutes, Caris and David disappaired upstairs, leaving Malcom and me alone. So while we studied algebra, Caris and David did division.
Malcom and I left in time to get me home before my midnight curfew. I saw the strange car in the drive, but I knew that Mom's friend, Magda was supposed to be coming over for dinner -- one of the reasons I'd left was to give them privacy.
Malc saw me to the door and left. I let myself in and I made my way to the kitchen. I was about to make my presence known, when I realised how silent the place was.. Then I heard the umistakable sound of kissing,a nd a little sigh.
Mom was kissing ... Magda!?!?
I went through to the kitchen. There was Mom, sitting on the counter, kissing a taller man. I remember thinking, the last time I checked, Magda wasn't a man!
"Mom?!?" I blurted out, jumping them both. They sprang apart and turned to look at me.
"Kiyara!" she exclaimed. My mouth was open, but not because she finally seemed to have found a boyfriend, but because she was kissing my real dad -- Walter Skinner.
"Ah Kiyara", she started, "this is --"
"My real father." I finished for her. I stuck out my hand and came to to a halt in front of him. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Skinner." He took it, but he looked absolutely floored. He turned to Mom who stared at me.
"I heard you and brian arguing about it. I ah, did some research on Mr Skinner, so I know what he looks like."
To my relief, he started to laugh. "Kirsty, she'd just like you. Determined." He told Mom, but he wouldnt let go of my hand.
"And ... you've never questioned me about it?" she asked me.
"I figured you had enough on you plate after you and Brian divorced."
"But you were ten, Kiyara! You're not supposed to be mature enough to know that!" Mom wailed.
"Mom, you flinched every time the phone rang. You used to think that Brian would come and take me away!"
To my horror, Mom burst into tears. "I thought you never knew! I tried so hard so hard to hide it from you!"
"Mom, I'd have to be blind not to notice. But I tried hard to help you. I didnt get into any trouble, and I was a straight a student."
Walter Skinner let go of my hand and put his arms around Mom. Tears were beginning to fall down my cheeks too, and he moved to put his arms around me
too.
Finally, I'd felt like I'd come home. That it was going to be OK.
"Thanks, dad." I whispered in his ear. And even though I couldnt see his face, I knew Walter Skinner was smiling.
© Chaynne Taylor/Shateri Jordan, 1997-2004
Comments? sexychaynne@aemail4u.com
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