For a short while, Deeva almost believed she could be Superwoman. She was flying high, and he was her red cape. All that an eleven-year-old girl ever wants in life is that she has her mother to teach her all kinds of ways to do her hair for school, and her father to tell him of her tales from school in the evening. Such was her life when she was eleven. But then, all a father wants in life is a bottle of whiskey in the morning to wake up and a bottle of vodka in the evening to sleep. Well, at least hers did.
Daddy was a word used with caution. She wouldn’t know what version of daddy she might get every morning. One day he was a normal daddy, shaving his beard in the mirror, making jokes with her every now and then. And the next day daddy was barely able to walk a straight line, cursing everyone he saw and everything he fell over. Mommy knew Deeva shouldn’t have to see this, but what could she do? A home without a father is barely home.
With all that happened around the house, Deeva still loved her father very much. He was the proud King of Deeva’s wonderland, and she, a princess of poise and everything beautiful. He would smile at her, sometimes with affection, and sometimes with bloodshot, liquored, and hazy eyes. Nevertheless, she cherished his smiles, his strong arms that lifted her up to the ceiling, his beautiful, beautiful name that Deeva herself had anointed – Daddy.
She could see that mommy would always look solemn every time daddy returned home with that god awful smell all over him. She could hear them fight almost every night in the other room when they thought she’d gone to sleep. She understood that daddy had a bad habit, and mommy hated it, but she also loved her daddy and she knew that someone she truly loved could not be wrong.
On a rainy Wednesday night, mommy was busy looking out the window, waiting for father to come home. Deeva was watching TV; mommy was too occupied to tell her to go study. It must have been almost eleven when finally mommy ran downstairs to open the doors for him, and Deeva cheerfully waited till they both returned upstairs. Mommy came upstairs soon, with a bitter look on her face. So it is the drunken daddy tonight, Deeva thought. Daddy wobbled himself to the room, placed himself to the nearest sofa from the door, and mumbled something incoherent.
Mommy paid no attention and swiftly went to the kitchen to ready the dinner for daddy. He stared at the ceiling for a while and mumbled something again, this time a little louder. Mommy made no effort to acknowledge him. Deeva, getting a little worried, peered into the kitchen. Mommy was curled up in a chair, her face buried in her shawl. Daddy mumbled something once more and struggled around the sofa. Drunken as was the man, he had no clue of the direction he was moving to and fell headfirst to the ground. A startled Deeva ran to her father’s rescue and helped him sit up.
The next thing she knew was a swift thunder and when her eyes opened she was on the floor, with a throbbing pain on her right cheek. Mommy was stood on her side, with a strange look in her eyes Deeva hadn’t seen before. When realization dawned upon Deeva that the painful thunder was none but a father’s crude thank you to a daughter across her baby face, she broke into a loud cry. Mommy picked her up promptly and took her to the next room. Deeva wasn’t aware of much of what happened next, but in almost twenty minutes, mommy was dragging a big suitcase in her hands and with the other she held Deeva. Daddy was unconscious, lying on the same floor that she’d tried to help him off of. He looked nothing like a King but more of a pauper, sad and sorry. Mommy took the suitcase and her daughter and made her way out into the night, leaving the safety of a home with a daddy, and it seemed to Deeva that they wouldn’t be coming back soon.
She stole a look at mommy with her tear stricken face and saw that the night had failed to hide from her face a flicker of sadness, a little hint of fear, and a whole lot of relief. Deeva knew not what they were heading to, but she no longer thought well of the bottles that daddy brought home.