Infinity

The floor was cold beneath my feet as I left my room. The paper was clutched tightly in my hands and I kept my gaze on the door, slightly open, down the hallway. Light from the room spilled into the hallway, illuminating just a small sliver. The door suddenly opened, hitting the wall with a bang.

“Daddy!” I smiled, running the last few steps towards the door as he left my parent’s room. I held out my hands, still clutching the paper, towards him, eager to see his reaction. He didn’t even glance down at me, briskly walking around me, a suitcase in each hand.

I watched confused as my father continued down the hallway, past my room to the stairs, not even looking once as he descended them. I ran to my brother’s room, the one that always held the answers to my questions.

“Dallas, Dallas!”

He was sitting in a chair, his guitar in his lap. Ever since he had gotten it he had been set on learning how to play, not having time for anything else it seemed. He didn’t bother looking up, focused on the correct positioning for a chord.

“Not now Ari.” He muttered something under his breath when the chord he played didn’t quite sound right.

“Dallas, where is daddy going?” He stopped now, looking towards me. “I wanted to show him my drawing, but he didn’t even stop. Where is he going Dallas?”

I held out my picture towards him, as if it would help him give me an answer. He set his guitar down before finally coming towards me. He crouched down to my level, he was so tall. He grabbed my picture before straightening.

“Stay here Ari, I’ll be right back.”

I watched as he walked out, closing his door behind him, his footsteps heavy as he rushed down the stairs. I stood there, unsure of what was going on. I heard voices start up, at first barely murmurs but then growing louder. I couldn’t make out what was being shouted throughout the house. I crept towards Dallas’ door, for some reason scared of what was awaiting me when I opened it.

I could tell now it was my mother, yelling words that I couldn’t quite understand. There was a lower voice too, Dallas’, joining in through pauses. Suddenly, the front door slammed. I knew it was the front door because I was used to hearing that sound every day, a signal that Dallas had arrived from school, one that had always greatly annoyed my mother. It was quite for a bit, before I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, Dallas was coming back up. I stood at his doorframe, waiting for him to turn the corner of the hallway. He walked fast down the hallway, brushing past me into his room, me trailing behind.

“Dallas, where did he go?”

His face, once tense, seemed to loosen as I asked him the only thing that I wanted to know. He sat on his bed, patting the space next to him. I walked over, climbing up next to him.

“Daddy…” He paused, as if thinking of what to say. “Daddy went away for a bit.”

I looked at his face, full of emotions that I couldn’t understand. There was one that I could clearly tell though and I wrapped my arms around him as best I could.

“Dallas, don’t be sad. Daddy’s going to come back.”

He didn’t reply, reaching instead for his guitar where he had left it before he had gone downstairs. He reached for one of his books as well, one of the beginner ones that he had already gone through and learned.

“Ari, want to learn how to play guitar?”

I nodded, so easily distracted by something as simple as learning how to play guitar. That was all we did that afternoon, Dallas teaching me the strings and chords, helping me at times when my fingers were too small to reach the right note. How simple it is to not worry when we are young, naive and hopeful in everything.