*This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*
From a young age, puppets and their masters were of interest to the little girl. Below the top curtain, a show would be on display, eliciting laughter and tears from the crowd sitting in front of the little stage. But above the noise and the fabric, two hands worked tirelessly to put on the best show possible, controlling the toy’s every move. Little did the girl know, there was a puppeteer in her own house.
When she was five, her father made her laugh with the things he said people would do. He told her that her mother would be surprised to find that car in their driveway for her birthday. And boy, he was right! Mom leaped into Dad’s arms with a smile as wide as the big blue skies that day. Dad predicted the future, and the little girl thought he was a true magician. Who else could do such things?
On her tenth birthday, the little girl’s smile was absent. She couldn’t find it in any corner of the house. This was because Dad promised her years prior that he would be there every single birthday. Over the phone, she told him of her pains and how she wished he were there. He scoffed and she could hear him shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He told her she would be happy in a few days and she would forgive him. The next day, he returned from his business trip with a beautiful doll. It was the most beautiful doll she’d ever seen. Mom’s happiness was still on vacation that day. When Dad looked over to Mom, the little girl knew something was wrong.
It wasn’t until she was a teenager that the girl began to hate puppeteers and their trinkets. Dad, the one true magician in her life, was doing things because he knew he could. He would scream at Mom till he was blue in the face, storm out of the house, and return two hours later as if nothing happened, after he left her mother a crumbled mess on the kitchen floor with a puddle of tears around her. Mom would pretend everything was okay, but even the slightest creak in the floor from Dad’s shoes made the girl shiver.
She was seventeen when it all broke into a million pieces. The not-so-little girl was applying to colleges and needed her father to assist her with something for the application. Dad agreed, mumbling very little as he turned to his computer and began to type away. The girl thought everything was taken care of. She believed it was okay. Until dinner time. Mom, Dad, and the girl sat in silence over the casserole. Mom was quiet these days, as not to upset Dad.
Then, the girl asked about college applications and paying for school. Dad dropped his fork and knife to the plate, clenching his fists like he was about to fight. Then he yelled. It was so loud that the girl felt the vibrations in every layer of her body. Money, tuition, ungrateful, and spoiled were words that came flying out of his mouth and flew around her. Mom reached for the girl’s hand, trying to calm her down, but the girl had enough. She pushed her plate forward and stood up in the midst of all his yelling. Her door slammed and locked. Then the tears began.
Her father was not the man she thought he was. Who would yell at their daughter over something that other parents insisted on assisting with? The further she curled into the covers, the more audible his feet up the stairs became. Then there was a knock. Then a quiet voice. She glared at the door and ignored him. Then he tried the door knob, attempting to force himself in. The words “you’re grounded” were the only two words she registered before he ran downstairs. His voice boomed in the dining room at her mother, even though she had done nothing wrong. The girl hadn’t either.
The next morning, the girl descended the stairs. Dad sat there drinking his morning coffee with an innocent smile on his face. But the girl knew differently. She ate her breakfast in silence while Mom cooked and said nothing. When she was done, her father stopped her before she grabbed her book bag and asked her if she wanted to go to a puppet show, like they had always done when she was a little girl.
She told him she didn’t need to see a puppet show when she was already living in one.
