The Knight in Leather Armor

ch. 0 These wings

Flimsy leaves drifted down in clusters. Grand oak trees with prickly branches cast long, lean shadows. Whispers from bees and butterflies wove through the meadow.

This was our favorite park: Monarch Park. It was always quiet here, quiet enough to hear the murmurs of squirrels as they bit their tiny acorns, and the dripping of the stream at the other end of the park.

I rested my head against my daddy’s chest, listening to the vibration of his voice as he read black squiggly lines on silky white paper.

“The young handsome knight saved the beautiful, helpless princess and they rode off on his midnight-black horse, into the golden sunset,” he finished. His smooth voice was delicate, soft like the fluttering of a butterfly and deep, powerfully majestic like an ocean tide.

He closed the book and set it against the thick tree root.

I folded my arms over my chest in stubborn disapproval of the ending. I loved when daddy read to me— since he did it so rarely— and I didn’t want to seem angry or rude, but I just didn’t like the story.

I didn’t like it because I didn’t believe in the characters. Maybe there were nice, noble princes and pretty young girls with good hearts in the olden days, but what about now? Daddy was the only knight for miles and miles. And my brother Danny was too mean and controlling to be a good knight.

“What’s wrong, angel?” my daddy asked, softly tilting my tiny chin up to face him.

“How come there are no knights in shining armor today?” I asked with slight annoyance.

I knew he wasn’t trying to lie to me by reading about these knights and the dragons and the princesses, but I didn’t like having my hopes up for something that didn’t and doesn’t exist.

My daddy laughed lightly and rubbed my back gently.

“Angel, noble knights are still around. There just aren’t as many— and they don’t wear armor anymore,” he explained cautiously.

But I could tell he was having some trouble, so he just flashed his bright grin— just like he did to his brothers when he wanted to persuade them about something— and I forgot what I was arguing about. But only for a moment.

I ran my tiny finger along the spine of the withering storybook and sighed.

“Then where is my knight? When is he going to save me?” I asked, looking up at Daddy, both hopelessly and hopefully. I didn’t think I needed “saving,” not as long as daddy was here, but still.

My daddy laughed even louder now, completely amused.

I frowned at him. He tugged me to his chest and rocked gently, soothingly.

“Baby, don’t scare me too early. Your knight will come one day— unless I get rid of him,” he grinned at the thought of hurting the poor knight, whoever he may be.                                                                  

“Daddy!” I complained.

“I’m kidding, angel. When your knight in shining armor comes, I will have to let you go. Let you use your wings and fly to your happiness,” he spoke quietly, almost more to himself than to me.

He looked sad. I hated when he was sad. It reminded me of what Danny said about him wishing mommy was still alive. Guilt sloshed around like acid in my stomach.

“Daddy, I won’t leave you,” I shook my head quickly, wanting to take back everything about the knights. I would stay with daddy forever if it meant he would never look so sad again.