24 FebDear Dad. I’m Not Going to Want to Play with You Forever

I knew who it was before she stepped into the room. She has a way of opening the door with a quick jerk. A split second after that she will appear from behind the cabinet.

“Dad!” she will say.

There is a movement among writers against using exclamation marks, but I find it useful here to help you hear her command for my attention.

“We have to play our game.”

When you hear about dad’s playing with their children you probably picture and dad rolling on the ground wrestling with his toddler, teaching his five year old how to ride a bike, or throwing a baseball with his nine year old. It’s not like this for me anymore.

Standing in front of me is a fourteen year old girl. She is tall, with a strong, lithe dancer’s body. She will begin her driving lessons this year. She will be dating soon after that. This maturing, beautiful girl wants her father to play with her?

“Our game” refers to a computer game my thirty-one year old son bought my daughter and I for Christmas—Broken Age. Broken Age is a point-and-click game with both a male and female hero. It is colorful, creative, and has a great storyline and skilled voice acting. Glory and I were immediately drawn into the game. We found we work well together figuring out the puzzles. At the beginning of each session we always argue about whose turn it is to “drive” (use the mouse to point and click). The only problem with this game is finding the time to play it.

I have two part time jobs that provide for the family. One is driving a school bus. The other is teaching English to Chinese students. It would appear that neither of these jobs should get in the way of finding time to play our game together. It’s just that along with my regular bus route I drive a lot of activity trips on Saturdays, the day we usually play Broken Age. You might think we could find time in the evenings to play, but because my English students reside in China they are fifteen hours ahead of me. I have to begin my classes at 3:00 am (6:00 pm Beijing time). I get up at 2:00 am to prepare for class. That means I am getting ready for bed around 7:30. My last regular bus run of the day ends at 6:00 in the evening, so there isn’t time to play our game.

On this particular day there is no school so I don’t have to drive bus. When my daughter bursts into the room with her usual buzz of energy she finds me sitting in my recliner, computer on lap. I’m taking the precious rare free time from driving bus to work on my novel.

Completing a novel is a difficult thing for a person who has to write around his day jobs. Every spare minute that can be wrung out of that wet rag of a work day is precious. I had finally broken through the wall of procrastination that begins each writing session and was just bringing a scene to life when she dropped in front of me demanding that we play our game.

The irritation that I feel is classic. It leads to several unoriginal thoughts. Why did I choose to have kids and to be an artist, too? Can’t she see that I’m doing something that very important to me? Why does she have to interrupt me at the beginning of the scene instead of the end? My dreams of becoming an author of something substantial and acclaimed are constantly thwarted by interruptions like this.

As I look into her big, brown eyes I think of one of her big brothers. His eyes are much like hers. He is married now and graduating from college in a month or so. Back when I had a real job I used to sneak him into the office with me where he would do his schoolwork in the lunchroom. At noon I would take him to the library where he would stand outside the doors and juggle for the patrons going in and out. When someone stopped to watch he would switch to balloon tying and make a child a sword. We would eat lunch under the sweet acacia trees nearby. Those days are long gone. With school, work, and family of his own he is very busy now. Our times together are still sweet, but far in-between.

The thought that stops the indignant complaints from coming out of my mouth is, “She isn’t going to want to play with you for very much longer.” It’s a thought that actually breaks my heart a little bit. I close the lid on my laptop and move over to the desk top computer. She pulls up the other chair and we start arguing over whose turn it was to drive. It’s her turn. We open the game start where we left off. Bella is in the damaged spaceship that had appeared as a monster to her village where it abducted sacrificial girls. Bella is putting an end to this nonsense. Glory and I argue about what to do next to figure out the current puzzle. In the end we both come up with a part of the solution. We give each other a joyous high-five and then move on.

Like her brothers and sisters before her Glory is going to soon grow into her own social scene and seek my attention less and less. Memories of writing my books are going to be thin broth to the hearty beef stew of good times with my Glory. The books are somehow getting written anyway.

My kids aren’t going to want to play with me forever. I don’t want to blow this.

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Books by Tory Anderson

Joey Johanaby thought his life ended when his dad died. Being forced to move into a mysterious, old, Southern mansion in Tennessee seems to make things worse. With Mrs. Johanaby struggling to learn new job skills Joey is given the difficult task of looking after the twins for the summer. The mansion is home to more than Joey and his family. Ghostly and magical characters from the mansion’s past take an interest in Joey and his struggles. They want to help, but their quirky methods are questionable. After the family is almost torn apart by a near-tragedy Joey obtains a magic map. With this map Joey goes on a journey that he might not return from—a journey that changes him forever.

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Things haven’t been the same for Jacob since his mother quit talking, eating, and getting out of bed. He is confused one morning when she wakes him with the words, “We’re leaving.” Jacob finds himself on a journey to a small town from his mother’s childhood where she hopes he will find safety before she dies. In a new town, a new school, and with a mother losing her battle with depression, Jacob’s life is turned upside-down. Lace Pearlshom, the social outcast from Jacob’s homeroom, adds to the confusion with her uncanny way of appearing out of shadows and disappearing up blind alleys. She pushes her way, unwelcome, into Jacob’s life. Lace may hold the key to saving Jacob’s mother, but can he accept the cost? In the unlikely friendship that develops Jacob learns the secrets behind Lace’s mysteries and comes to understand the tragic circumstances of her life. His efforts to help her unexpectedly brings in the Child Protective Services which is determined to take Lace away. Can a friendship this deep ever be broken? Can two broken lives make the world whole?

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After fifteen years traveling the world in the high tech industry, Tory Anderson found himself driving his first busload of kids. What started as an act of desperation turned into a life changing experience that led to courage he was lacking, and love he didn’t know he had. Bus Driver Diaries puts you in the driver’s seat with Tory to experience the world that unfolds on a bus in-between school and home. Amid the noise and frustration you will find a world of beauty, wonder, and humor. After reading this book, every sighting of a school bus will bring a smile to your face.

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