So I walked over towards him and he said, "Please, sit down and join me." I knew that when he did that he did not want to play chess. I haven't played chess -- especially with him -- since I was little.
Nevertheless, he spread out the chess pieces as if we were actually going to play. I knew I was going to have to suffer through one of his storytelling flourishes, of which he is remarkably fond. He picked up one of the chess pieces and proceeded to tell some story about kings and pawns. The whole ramble didn't make any sense.
Then he looked at me and addressed me directly. "Savannah, I know you've been spending more time in cop cars than classrooms."
"What are you talking about?"
"I got a call from the school while I was at work. You've only been to class twice this semester. Savannah, I know you're much better than that."
"Well, you didn't go to school, did you?"
"I did go to school, but I quit midway through my first year. And my situation was different."
"Was it really?" I looked up at him.
"You know, Savannah, you're a lot like me when I was your age, except quite possibly feistier. I want to tell you that -- that even though I did in fact quit going to school, I didn't quit learning. I put myself through a rigorous and stringent training program, more so than they could have ever come up with for me at school. I started working out at the gym, I went to the art gallery and the theater, sitting through tours and orchestra productions, I took guitar lessons, and I read lots and lots and lots of books.
Dad continued to talk. "I know I've done things that I'm not proud of, and I can't consider myself the best example. What I think you should do, and I'm not gonna sit here and make you go to school when I didn't go myself, is figure out what you want out of life, and then go do it!"
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