Midway to Utah

William Howard January 18th 2021

Midway to Utah

Sharon Franks had spent the better part of her life running in any direction that didn’t lead her back to her father. She had grown up in Tallahassee, Florida; raised by a bi-polar dreamer of a father who always swore that his next idea would be the one that made them rich. However, he spent more time with his one or two friends playing poker and drinking beer than marketing his ideas to potential investors. As for her mother, she hardly got the chance to know her since she had abandoned the family when Sharon was seven years old, leaving her ‘loving’ husband, Jason Harkness to raise their child.

Shortly after her mother, Diana, had left Tallahassee for greener pastures, Sharon remembered that Jason tried to ease the blow by performing one of the few selfless acts in his life. He purchased her a baby barn owl to keep as a pet.

As with most of his schemes in his life, Jason failed to think before he had acted, even if he had done so with the best of intentions. After Jason had brought the owl home, Sharon soon came to the realization that she was solely responsible for its’ care.

For the next seven years, Sharon managed to handle the responsibility of caring for her pet barn owl, Minerva, as well as play the role of surrogate caregiver to Jason; cooking his meals, putting him to bed when he came home drunk and keeping a roof over their heads.

The signal for Sharon that it was time to leave was when, at the age of thirteen, she had her first period. Sharon saw how lonely her father had become, desperate for female companionship, after her mother had left. He often did relieve this loneliness by inviting a young, non-descript female friend for the evening. But one night, her relationship with Jason came to a head when she had gone to retrieve her drunken father from O’Brien’s bar. Upon entering the bar, Sharon spied her father sitting at the bar with three gentlemen who were equally intoxicated.

She walked over to where her father was trying to maintain his balance on his barstool.

“Come on, Pops. Time to go home. You need to leave a little bit of booze for the other customers.”

Instead of complying with her request, Jason turned to his fellow barflies. “Isn’t my daughter getting so grown? She used to be my little girl and now she is turning into a woman.”

“That’s what happens to little girls, Pops,” Sharon said.

“Show the boys how much of a woman you are becoming.”

It was then that Jason crossed the line.

Sharon remembered that he had leaned forward, trying to grasp her t-shirt and lift it up past her chest. But instead, he only managed to grasp the air and went falling to the ground.

She recalled how furious that she’d been with Jason in that moment, as well as the shame she had felt knowing that it was her father that treated her like a common whore.

Sharon yelled at Jason on the floor, “Why don’t you get one of your buddies to take you home and the two of you can play ‘touchy feely’?” She turned and ran out of the bar.

Sharon knew now, after years of reflection, that she should have taken a day or two to form a plan of action. However, she also knew that there was the possibility of being beaten or, even worse, violated, if she returned home. Sharon drove her father’s pick-up truck back home, quickly grabbed a few clothes, and then ran upstairs to get her barn owl, Minerva.

As clear as day, Sharon remembered holding onto Minerva' cage, danglingly it at eye-level. Even in the midst of dealing with all the confusing emotions, Sharon knew that wherever she was headed, it would be enough of a challenge taking care of herself, let alone looking after Minerva.

It wasn't until recently, though, that Sharon realized that she had been lying to herself for all these years. She hadn’t been worried about Minerva’s well-being. No. She hadn't taken Minerva because it woild have been a daily reminder of the father she had left behind.

Before leaving her room for the last time, Sharon had grabbed her small red suitcase, backpack, and birdcage with Minerva inside. She ran out of the house, walked down the path and unlocked the gate that separated Jason’s house from their neighbor’s. As she made her way to the neighbor's door, Sharon had knocked on the screen door. A minute later, Sharon could see a light come on through the diamond-shaped window before an elderly woman opened the front door.

“Sharon, why aren’t you in bed? It is almost one-thirty in the morning.”

In that moment, Sharon had realized that, much like her dad, she had not taken time to think through her actions. What she did know was that she wasn’t going to share with her sixty-something neighbor that her dad had just attempted to grope her. Instead, Sharon made the decision to lie and deal with the consequences some other time.

“Dad tried to walk home from O’Brien’s and some idiot clipped him in the crosswalk.”

“Where were you, my dear, when this happened. Don’t you usually drive him home?”

“I had something that I needed to take care of myself and I guess I was running a little late, Ms. Jenkins.”

Sharon remembered the self-righteous look on Mrs. Jenkins.

“Well, I guess we have learned our lesson, young lady.”

“I guess you are right, Mrs. Jenkins. Anyway, they took dad to the emergency room at Cedar Rivers Hospital. I really need to get going so I can be there when he wakes up.”

“Do you want me to wake Herbert so he can drive you?” Mrs. Jenkins had asked.

“Thank you. I will be fine driving myself, but could you do one thing for me?”

“Anything for you, dear.”

“Could you watch Minerva for a few hours? I don’t want to leave her alone.”

In response, Mrs. Jenkins opened the screen door and gently took the birdcage with Minerva inside from her hands.

“Tell your father that I hope he feels better.”

“Thank you again, Mrs. Jenkins. I definitely will.”

Sharon turned, walked down the steps and got in her father’s truck. Driving the short distance to the bus station, Sharon had bought a one-way ticket to New York City and made the decision, probably much like her mother, that she would never look back on her life.

But that was a promise that she hadn’t been able to keep to herself. Over the last twelve years, Sharon had thought about her father every day. Wondering if anyone had stepped forward in the community to take care of him, wondering if she should call him and try to make amends. But it seemed that she was more concerned about survival than her father.

Upon arriving in New York City, Sharon had managed to talk her way onto a small indie paper as a proofreader. She gradually worked her way up to reporter. After twelve years of hard work, she was now the lead manager of the newspaper.

Sharon had also experienced good fortune on a personal level. After two weeks in New York, Sharon had met a young twenty-five-year-old photographer, Rebecca, one night when she was rummaging for food in a dumpster behind a local diner. Rose had taken her in, becoming the mother that she had never truly known.

Even with this less-than-perfect life, Sharon couldn’t help wondering what had become of her father, mainly in the fleeting moments before drifting off to sleep. She was tempted to call him but never gave into the impulse.

It was three days ago that her past caught up with Sharon. Only the call wasn’t from her father, but from an attorney in Midway, Utah. The lawyer, Mr. Solomon, had informed her that Jason Harkness had been fighting liver cancer for the last two and a half years. Mr. Solomon said that he had finally lost that battle the week before. He had stated that Jason had requested in his last will and testament that Sharon attend his funeral. After calling the airline, she found that the soonest flight was not until that Friday, two days after the funeral. She was officially a failure as a daughter.

Now, Sharon found herself staring at a clay pottery urn with Chinese writing on it. The urn sat on a Formica folding table in her father’s log cabin overlooking the Provo river in Midway, Utah. Sharon realized that her family was gone and no amount of wishing would bring them back. As she looked at the urn, she suddenly heard a familiar screech coming from the riverbank.

Sharon ran down to the shore where she saw a young man holding a fishing rod. The boy watched the line, an owl came swooping down, grabbed the ensnared fish off the hook and dropped it into the boy’s hand. There was no mistaking the fact that it was Minerva.

Then Sharon heard a woman’s voice in her ear. “I see you found your step-brother.”

Sharon spun around to face a brown-skinned, fifty-year-old woman. “Hello, Sharon. I am Jason’s widow, Donna. Minerva’s been waiting quite some time for you to come back.”