O.P.

“ATHENA, YOU BETTER NOT BE HERE WHEN I GET BACK !”

Those were the last words my stepfather said to me that day. When I was 6 my parents separated, and not long after my mother remarried, his name was Oliver. At first Oliver was the sort of parent my dad had never been, and the husband my Mom had always wished for.

“Oh Athena, we are so lucky! Oliver is going to take great care of us”.

I now know that would be the biggest lie my mother could have ever told me. It started off small, the occasional dirty looks or rude remarks, but after a while it seemed that Oliver was just always looking for a fight. He would pick my Mom apart about everything, he would always compare her to someone else, his mother, or sister; both woman that deeply resented my mother for being divorced, and a single mother. Sometimes Oliver’s anger was targeted at me, without being provoked he would brag about how much better I could have been if he was my “real” father, that if I had come from him, MAYBE I would have a chance at making something of my life. Sometimes I feel that I should have thanked him, because if it wasn’t for his constant belittling I wouldn’t have tried as hard as I did to really make something of myself, I graduated with honours from Harvard Medical school and became the first female Chief of medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital. When I was 12 my Mom was diagnosed with stage 5 breast cancer, by the time the cancer was found doctors had very little hope that my Mom would make it through the rest of the year. I remember so vividly her being afraid to tell Oliver because he might blame her for her diagnosis, I cried myself to sleep everyday for the next 4 months. On the morning of September 13th my Mom passed away peacefully in her sleep. For the next 3 days I slept in her hospice room realizing that I no longer had a home, or a family. I arrived back to my “house” to find Oliver signing some documents

“sit down” he said...not even looking up from the stack of papers.

“These are the adoption papers your Mom wanted me to prepare, she knew you wouldn’t have a chance without me, so she left you here instead of taking care of you herself...”

I couldn’t believe it! My beautiful, loving, amazing mother had just died, and he still found a way to belittle her! I could feel the rage boiling inside of me. As the tears swelled in my eyes all I could say was

“Thank you”

My tears stung as the touched my chapped lips, I had been crying for so long that every part of my face felt chapped. The years went on slowly, Holidays were very lonely, Oliver always insisted on taking me to his mother’s house where I would be left out of family photos, secret Santa’s, and anything you would consider being a family activity.

“It’s not your fault” he would say. “It’s just how they are, I’m sorry Athena” he always said sincerely.

Eventually he stopped making me go, and eventually even thou we lived together we stopped seeing each other. Over time Oliver became more like my landlord than my “father”. Some nights I would wake up to see Oliver pulling into the driveway in strange vehicles. He would come in and shower; someone I didn’t recognize would drop of a different vehicle and drive away in the one Oliver showed up in, although he showed no affection or emotion towards me I always had food in the fridge and money in my bank account. I started hearing rumours about Oliver in my last year of high school, the popular kids would talk about how “cool” he was.

“I wish he was my Dad” they would say.

Some people would call him “James Boston” but I didn’t think he was sly enough to be a double agent, not one of any good at least. The more I thought about it, the more it had dawned on me that I had no idea what he did. I guess that would explain how he could have been so emotionless and cold, and if he was a double agent that would explain why he became so awful to us, I’m sure it wouldn’t be easy to live a life designed around violence and then come home and hug your family.

One Friday night I had gotten home at 2am after my high school grad party; not the official grad, the goodbye high school bush party. As I was walking up the drive way a car I didn’t recognize pulled up behind me, I lifted my arm in front of my eyes to try and see past the head lights...

“GET IN THE HOUSE NOW!”

It was Oliver, and he sounded worried. I froze completely as two vehicles came speeding up both sides of our street.

“NOW! GO!” He shouted.

As I began to run I could hear multiple voices, and Oliver’s began to sound strained.

“You didn’t tell us you had a daughter” one of the voices said.

I heard Oliver fall to the ground in pain. I ran as fast as I could up into my bedroom. I rushed into my closet and climbed up into the attic through the small door in the ceiling. I could hear feet thumping and loud voices. Could it be true ? Is Oliver a double agent ?

“SHE WENT THROUGH THE YARD” a woman’s voice shouted.

I sighed immediately, feeling slightly relieved, I slowly stood up and peered through the attic window. The two vehicles raced away, Oliver’s car was still there. I heard the closet door slide open slowly.

“Athena, are you up there” Oliver’s muffled voice called.

The attic door opened and I could see his silhouette in the moonlight. I froze, he’s going to be PISSED.

“Athena, what were you doing walking about that late?” He asked “It’s not...the world is...it’s just that...Athena, it’s dangerous to be out that late”.

As he moved closer I could see sweat and blood glistening on his face, I wasn’t sure if it was his, but it was still frightening.

“I’m sorry”...I said.

“It’s...it’s alright” he sighed. “We have to get you somewhere safe” he said.

“WHAT?!” I exclaimed. “For how long” I asked.

“I don’t know Athena, for as long as it takes” he sneered.

Clearly running out of patience he jumped down the attic door.

“I’m going, so pack a couple bags and wait for your aunt Jessie to get here” he said.

I jumped down the attic door and chased behind him.

“Why? What’s going on?!” I said in a panic

“Nothing you could EVER understand” he said, more agitated than before. “Now hurry up”

“Wait!” I pleaded, “please, tell me what’s happening” I grabbed onto his arm trying to plead with him.

“Athena, just do as your told!” He commanded as he jerked his arm away.

“NO!” I said, looking him right is his eyes. “You’re NOT my father” I said.

Oliver’s eyes widened and he paused

“Get your things and get out” he said one last time.

“N-”

“ATHENA, YOU BETTER NOT BE HERE WHEN I GET BACK!” He screamed while pointing his finger at me.

He left the house and slammed the door behind him. I began to pack my things, tears rolled down my face. My aunt Jessie showed up soon after to help me pack.

“Sweetie, do you have any bigger bags?” She asked

“I’m not sure, this is all I have” I shrugged.

She wandered to Oliver’s room and came back with a big grey bag. We continued to pack in silence. Weeks went by and I didn’t hear from Oliver.

“Athena, I’m sure he’s fine” my aunt Jessie would try and reassure.

“I...I don’t care” I stuttered.

She glanced at me with pitty. Poor Orphan Athena is what I’m sure they all thought. I didn’t feel sad, I didn’t miss him, I didn’t like him, but I mean, he was my Dad. I was worried, but more for me than for him. One morning I was looking for my bathing suit, I was sure I packed one, when I noticed that big ugly gray bag aunt Jessie found in dads room. I began searching through the pockets when I felt something...a book. I pulled out a small black book, the outside was leather and said “O.P” Oliver Porter, I could only imagine. I felt nervous; I closed my bedroom door and sat on my bed, I took a deep breath and opened the book. It was just a list of figures. Dates, and then millions of dollars worth of numbers, written in both red and black.

“Negative and positive?” I thought

As I continued flipping the pages I found a note...

“Athena, if you are reading this, I’m sorry. Please understand that I tried to do my best, I know it didn’t show. Athena, I don’t think we will ever see each other again, but I know you are in good hands. The truth I’m afraid would only harm you, if you knew what this was all about it would just put you in danger. Look under the flap at the bottom of the bag, there’s a key to a security box in Santander bank. It’s the least I could do, I wish I could have been better. I love you”.

I laid back and began to cry. I felt angry, and sad, but mostly scared. For the first time I missed Oliver, but the Oliver I knew when I was 6, not the one he became. The next morning I woke up before anyone else and drove myself to Santander.

“Good morning...Athena right?” The lady behind the counter said.

“Y-yes, that’s me. I...I uhm...my dad...well he’s...I have this key”...I was so nervous for what I might find.

The lady behind the desk smiled politely and instructed me to follow her. We walked into the vault and she pointed to the box on the wall.

“I’ll wait outside the door” she said before leaving.

My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly get the key into the lock. Once I did I slid the box out and placed it on the marble table in the middle of the vault. I took a deep breath and opened the lid. Inside was a letter, and an envelope. I opened the letter to find that Oliver had paid my full 4 years at Harvard Med in advance, and bought me an apartment by campus. I began to feel guilty. I squeezed my eyes and opened the envelope, I could just barley make out bills, like money bills. I opened my eyes and felt overwhelmed by how many hundred dollar bills I saw; 20,000 dollars to be exact! There was also a set of keys with the number 206 on them, which I could only imagine were for my apartment. I emptied the contents of the box, thanked the lady and drove home.

The next day I packed my bags and thanked aunt Jessie.

“He really did love you Athena” she said

“I know”...I choked.

I never saw Oliver again, but every year on my birthday I still receive flowers signed O.P. It took a long time to understand that he’s wasn’t a bad man, he was a scared man. So afraid of losing us that it was easier to pretend we didn’t exists.

The end