Second Time's A Charm

I'm going to tell you a story now. I'm going to say that it happened to my friend. I'll even give him a name. Karl. There. So now we all know that what follows are a series of events from my dear friend Karl's life.

One fine summer weekday when Karl was about six he thought he heard his father in the basement. This was odd, because his father was usually at work during the day. Karl, being an inquisitive lad, made the trek down the rickety, dark steps that led to the basement done up in the mod stylings that were common in the late 1960s. Being a basement, it was kind of dark even during the day, and yet there was no light on. Karl could just make out his father, however, sitting in the easy chair at the far end of the basement.

And he could hear him. He was making some weird kind of sound that was familiar to Karl, though at first he couldn't place it. He was crying! That's it! But Karl didn't know that men cried; he thought only children and women cried. He didn't like this at all.

Karl's dad noticed him and beckoned him over. Karl asked what was wrong, and his dad stared back at him with his red eyes and told him between stifled sobs that "mommy doesn't love me anymore, and I have to go away." Karl always says he doesn't remember anything after that. His next memories sort of begin when Karl, his mom, and sister move into an apartment. He used to tell me interesting stories about the Apartment Era, too, but that's for another day.

Evidently Karl's mom remarried pretty soon afterward, and since Karl and his sister were still relatively young, Karl's mom wanted her children to call their new stepfather "dad", something that came easy to his sister. Karl, on the other hand, found this uncomfortable. However, the stepdad eventually became "dad".

Flash forward about 12 years, and Karl is a freshman in college. One day he gets a call from his "dad" asking if he knew where his mother was. Karl had no idea and told his "dad" this. Just then, as they were on the phone, Karl's "dad" said to hold on, that the doorbell was ringing. So Karl waited. When Karl's "dad" came back on the phone, his manner had decidedly changed. This time Karl knew his "dad" was crying right away. He was becoming an expert at this.

"What's the matter?" Karl asked.

"Your mom has just filed divorce papers on me. I guess she doesn't love me anymore" was his dad's reply.

Karl always wonders what the odds are that a child would get to have this conversation twice in a lifetime. I always tell him they are low indeed.