A Friend Visits

Immediately after stepping through the door Ben knew something was off.

Even though it was mid-summer it was only in the 70s outside but inside Ben was met with a rush of cold air. It was like being instantly transported to the middle of a harsh Minnesota winter. Just breathing the cold air can sting your lungs.

"What's with the temperature?" Ben asked.

"Oh, ah, well, you see, my dad he..."

Before I could get another word in my younger sister came down the steps, which were just in front of the entrance of our house. She was wearing a sweater, but that wasn't the weirdest thing Ben saw.

Her sweater was emblazoned with the words "Slave #5" on the front. She was only 7 years old, but she was already made aware of her place in the house and family.

Ben was speechless. I could see he was trying to think of something to say, but what words are there that would be remotely appropriate? Ben said a suspicious hello to my sister as she happily ran by to the kitchen, not even realizing how hurtful the words on her sweater were.

My father thought the sweaters were just an innocent joke and he bought one for everyone, with my mother being slave #1. He would make us wear them many times at home, even if people were over.

Then there was the library, which was directly to the left of the entrance. It was a separate room on the first floor in which my father would spend a lot of time. He would usually leave the door open so he could yell out to anyone passing by and ask them to do something for him.

On that summer day, with the air conditioning in the house blasting and every one wearing winter coats inside in the middle of July, Ben looked left and saw a roaring fire.

"My dad likes to have a fire going even in the summer, so he turns the air conditioning up full blast. It gets cold in the house, but his library is warm because he has the fire going."

I don't remember what Ben said after that, if he said anything. The look on his face, though, I will always remember. It was pure disbelief. I tried to shrug it off and just explain it as one of those quirks of my father.

But it wasn't just a quirk, it was selfish behavior that made everyone else in the house cold and uncomfortable just so he could enjoy his fire. Claiming to be a man of God that spoke to God himself, here he was putting his own desires ahead of everyone else's.

It was just another day in my house. Nothing new, just another thing that my father did to make himself happy without thinking of anyone else.

I never invited Ben over much again. We became really great friends, but we stuck to hanging out at the mall or at his place.