Aunt Luella Wall waited up as
usual. Having taken responsibility for Hazel in some form since her
birth, Luella worried about Hazel growing up right and not making
the best choices. Hazel always saw Aunt Luella as
overprotective.
“There you are coming home late again! And
without that Franklin Gorton this time! How often have I insisted
he bring you home first to make sure you always come home
safe?”
“But in terms of distance it costs more to
drop me off first and him second. Everyone needs money these
days.”
“And you need to stay safe! I know you have
that strong voice and you can sing, but what you do isn’t stable. I
still think you should come work with me at the clothing
store.”
“But I know nothing about that trade.
Singing is my passion and what I’m best at.”
“Look at your father following his passion
and where did it get him, Hazel? Be sensible.”
Hazel shouted back. “My father wanted to be
in law enforcement as a child but ended up doing a dockworker’s job
because it was all that he could get for a normal career in his
life and position! After getting laid off, managing to be a private
investigator was the closest he got to his dreams. And he was
happier in that short time than I remember him the rest of his
life!”
“I just want what’s best for you,
Hazel.”
“Then leave me alone!”
Hazel ran to her room in tears, where she
pulled a chest of her father’s old things out of the closet.
Included inside were an old hat and trench coat that he had, one of
a couple. He’d died in the other one. Hazel refused to part with
these, and fortunately Aunt Luella remained just kind enough not to
throw them away if for no other reason than to keep peace with the
child.
Hazel gazed into the dirty, slightly cracked
oval wall mirror mounted in her room. Her Aunt Luella constantly
insisted that she be rid of the old thing, what with its tarnished
frame and the crack in the upper corner. Yet the mirror belonged to
Hazel’s mother before the young girl had been born, and her father
put it in Hazel’s room after his wife died. This treasured mirror
remained the only link Hazel had to the mother she’d never known.
Still, despite the connection to her sibling, Luella did not want
the item.
“It does you no good to cling to the past,
child,” Aunt Luella often insisted. “You need to be living for the
future.” Yet she didn’t quite dare take the mirror or the father’s
things from the young girl.
Hazel looked into the reflective surface and
saw a face far more resembling her father’s than any description
given to her of the woman that gave birth to her, yet with a softer
and more rounded feel. Most people said they saw her father looking
in her vast, gentle eyes. Every now and then Hazel wondered if her
father’s downfall came simply because at the heart of it all, the
center of the gumshoe squished with a heart of love. His big brawn,
built up by the years of factory work before his layoff, only
served as an exterior for a giant heart, one Hazel missed quite
often.
Hazel thought about a time not all that long
ago when she’d gotten into one of her father’s hat and trench coats
without asking. He’d found her in his bedroom playing detective and
demanded she return both items to him.
“Taking something without asking is just
like stealing,” he reminded Hazel. “Detectives don’t steal. They
find the bad men that did the stealing. Now take those off and put
them on the bed right now, young lady.”
With a sigh, Hazel did exactly as she’d been
asked, but not without a little complaining.
“But Daddy,” she pleaded to him. “I want to
beat the bad guys just like you.”
Hazel’s father knelt down slightly because
even with Hazel as a growing teen he stood head and shoulders above
her. He never liked towering over anyone and wanted to come to her
level.
“Now listen, Hazel,” she remembered him
telling her ever so softly. “You have a great life ahead of
usual. Having taken responsibility for Hazel in some form since her
birth, Luella worried about Hazel growing up right and not making
the best choices. Hazel always saw Aunt Luella as
overprotective.
“There you are coming home late again! And
without that Franklin Gorton this time! How often have I insisted
he bring you home first to make sure you always come home
safe?”
“But in terms of distance it costs more to
drop me off first and him second. Everyone needs money these
days.”
“And you need to stay safe! I know you have
that strong voice and you can sing, but what you do isn’t stable. I
still think you should come work with me at the clothing
store.”
“But I know nothing about that trade.
Singing is my passion and what I’m best at.”
“Look at your father following his passion
and where did it get him, Hazel? Be sensible.”
Hazel shouted back. “My father wanted to be
in law enforcement as a child but ended up doing a dockworker’s job
because it was all that he could get for a normal career in his
life and position! After getting laid off, managing to be a private
investigator was the closest he got to his dreams. And he was
happier in that short time than I remember him the rest of his
life!”
“I just want what’s best for you,
Hazel.”
“Then leave me alone!”
Hazel ran to her room in tears, where she
pulled a chest of her father’s old things out of the closet.
Included inside were an old hat and trench coat that he had, one of
a couple. He’d died in the other one. Hazel refused to part with
these, and fortunately Aunt Luella remained just kind enough not to
throw them away if for no other reason than to keep peace with the
child.
Hazel gazed into the dirty, slightly cracked
oval wall mirror mounted in her room. Her Aunt Luella constantly
insisted that she be rid of the old thing, what with its tarnished
frame and the crack in the upper corner. Yet the mirror belonged to
Hazel’s mother before the young girl had been born, and her father
put it in Hazel’s room after his wife died. This treasured mirror
remained the only link Hazel had to the mother she’d never known.
Still, despite the connection to her sibling, Luella did not want
the item.
“It does you no good to cling to the past,
child,” Aunt Luella often insisted. “You need to be living for the
future.” Yet she didn’t quite dare take the mirror or the father’s
things from the young girl.
Hazel looked into the reflective surface and
saw a face far more resembling her father’s than any description
given to her of the woman that gave birth to her, yet with a softer
and more rounded feel. Most people said they saw her father looking
in her vast, gentle eyes. Every now and then Hazel wondered if her
father’s downfall came simply because at the heart of it all, the
center of the gumshoe squished with a heart of love. His big brawn,
built up by the years of factory work before his layoff, only
served as an exterior for a giant heart, one Hazel missed quite
often.
Hazel thought about a time not all that long
ago when she’d gotten into one of her father’s hat and trench coats
without asking. He’d found her in his bedroom playing detective and
demanded she return both items to him.
“Taking something without asking is just
like stealing,” he reminded Hazel. “Detectives don’t steal. They
find the bad men that did the stealing. Now take those off and put
them on the bed right now, young lady.”
With a sigh, Hazel did exactly as she’d been
asked, but not without a little complaining.
“But Daddy,” she pleaded to him. “I want to
beat the bad guys just like you.”
Hazel’s father knelt down slightly because
even with Hazel as a growing teen he stood head and shoulders above
her. He never liked towering over anyone and wanted to come to her
level.
“Now listen, Hazel,” she remembered him
telling her ever so softly. “You have a great life ahead of
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