SOWING THE SEEDS of a short story.

For my father, Roland Anthony Torralba, on his 2nd year Death Birthday.

 

SOWING THE SEEDS of a short story

When I was around six years old and my family lived in White Settlement, Texas, my father took me with him while he drove around on the outskirts of town... and he drank.

We listened to the radio on every single one of these joyrides. I wasn't aware that drinking and driving were illegal at this time, so I loved spending the time with my father and never thought anything else of it. As inappropriate as it was, we bonded deeply during these adventures because there were minimal distractions. It was simply us in a car, talking, and listening to the AM/FM radio. He sang-a-long to every random song that came on the radio and I learned the words to nearly every pop song, post 1950, from riding around in the car with my dad.

I remember one song in particular and associate it with the time the police finally caught on to my father's unlawful behavior. It was one evening after my mother came home from work and she couldn't find me or my dad. She called the police and they issued an Amber Alert searching for my father; the accused kidnapper; and me, the alleged kidnappee.

We had no idea we were being searched for. All I was aware of in that moment was the song playing on the radio and the sound of my dad’s voice, as he sang it to me...

Sea of love...sea of love...join with me...

I saw flashing lights flicker on the dashboard of the car and I turned the radio volume down. My father looked in the rear view mirror, still singing along to the song, lightly. "Don't worry dad.  I've got on my seat belt." I assured from the passenger seat.

I had no idea that the seat belt was going to be the least of the officer's concerns during that stop. My dad continued to sing along to the song as he pulled off onto a grassy knoll. He turned the car off but he pulled the key back. I could faintly hear the music from the radio still playing in the background. The officer came up to the car with his gun drawn and I remember trying to figure out what the big deal was. In my head we didn't do anything wrong. We were just hanging out like we always did.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step out of the car," the officer instructed.
 

It was then I realized that my dad was familiar with this procedure because he did everything per the officer's instruction, like it was second nature. I was embarrassed once I put it all together. My father knew he was in the wrong. Though I was angry at him for misleading me into what I thought was normal adult behavior, I continued to stand by him, literally. My dad had his hands leaned against the car while the officer questioned him and I did the same and leaned my hands against the car too.

"Got any guns sir?"

"Nope no guns", my father replied. Then my dad asked me, "Got any guns Beth?"

"Nope no guns", I assured him.
"Got any knives sir?" the officer inquired.

Again, my father gave his solemn word, "Nope". Then my father asked,

"You got any knives Beth?"
I assured him and the officers, "Nope. No knives, dad."

The officer handcuffed my father and read him his Miranda rights. I remember looking at my dad wondering what was going to happen next and he interrupted my fear with a question, "Are you paying attention to what they're saying, Beth?"

I stopped being fearful and started taking note of every little detail I could.
I gave my full attention to the situation at hand[cuff].

The officer told me to get in the back of his car. I looked at my father and waited for his nod of approval. Once I got it, I followed the officer to the car. From the backseat, I watched a second patrol car drive up and my father was taken away in that car. I still wasn't fearful at this point because I held onto my father's words like gospel, Are you paying attention to what they're saying?  I also found solace in the song my father sang to me. I couldn't get it out of my head.

...Sea of love...sea of love...join with me....

As the officer drove me to the police department, I remained silent, (just as they told my father he had the right to do). The officer began asking me all sorts of questions, but I only answered one of them; 

"Did your daddy take you with him and you didn't want to go with him?"

I glared past the cage-like covering from the backseat and into the rear view mirror. I could see the officer's eyes in that mirror, fixed on me. His face begged for me to oblige him.

“NO WAY!!!! I always want to go with my dad when he rides around! I don't ever want to stay at home!”

That wasn't what the officer wanted to hear but I didn't care because I wasn't going to lie. I knew what kidnapping was and kidnapping was not this case. The officer continued to ask me things but I didn't want to talk to him because I felt like he was attempting to lead me into a falsified story. My father was in the wrong, but not for the  reasons the officers were hoping to discover.

The kidnapping charges against my father were dropped and he was formally charged with driving under the influence. He served less than a month in the Tarrant County jail and his driver's license was revoked. After that incident he never got his license reinstated in Texas, or any other state for that matter.

So that was the last joyride my father and I ever took together.

I had all but forgotten about the incident and the song until recently. I was listening to an internet radio station and I immediately recognized the melody. I haven't heard this song in ages! What's the name of this song, anyway? and I maximized the station's window so I could find out the title. Then, after all these years, shrouded in mystery, I learned the correct lyrics and the name of the unknown song from that incident with my father. 

Hearing it made me feel like I was with my dad again, driving on the outskirts of Fort Worth, TX.

Feel the pain
Talk about it
If you're a worried man
then shout about it
Open hearts
feel about it
Open minds
think about it
Everyone
Read in the books in the crannies and the nooks
There are books to read!
Time to eat all your words
Swallow your pride
Open your eyes

-- Sowing the Seeds of Love/TEARS FOR FEARS

Dear Dad,
I never got to tell you this when you were here so I want to tell you now, THANK YOU FOR YOU. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be who I am, today. I love you and I miss you even more. I don't know if there is an afterlife, but I hope there is so I can connect with you again; somehow, somewhere, someday.
Love always,

Beth