My Teacher Dad Traded Me In

Yale Johnson caught my gaze and marched right up to me, gripping my arm.

"Your brother's been out of sorts, and the doctors can't pin down what's wrong. He's withering away."

"Come on, I heard Dr. Cunningham's the top dog in this field. Let's go see him, pronto."

His eyes were desperate, his hands clammy.

I flashed back to when I was burning up with a fever, asking him for oatmeal, and how he shoved my hand away like it was toxic.

"You think you can ask me for favors with those pathetic grades? I wish you'd just disappear. Then your mom and I could try for someone better."

I brushed him off with the same detached indifference he once showed me. "Sir, you're making zero sense to me.

"Want medical attention? Get in line and register like everyone else. No skipping."

He stood there, petrified, while the colleagues around him gaped.

Yale was all about keeping up appearances. He sent me off to the countryside and told everyone I was sick and needed rest.

After he took Josh Lewis in, some poor kid, he got his fifteen minutes of fame as the city's Teacher Dad.

However, nobody knew the truth about Mr. Perfect. He was the kind of dad who would toss his own kid aside.

I saw his facade crack, but he kept his cool.

"Shane, I get it. You think I haven't been there for you, and now you're giving me the silent treatment, keeping your job a secret.

"However, your brother's hanging by a thread. Be mad at me if you have to, but Josh didn't do anything."

I was trapped in a circle of educators, all ready to give me a piece of their mind.

"Look, Shane, this isn't the time for sibling rivalry. No hard feelings should last overnight between you and your dad, right?"

"You're missing the point. Your dad's a saint, why can't you take a page from his book?"

The nurse could not help but interject, clearly fed up with the scene unfolding before her.

"What's all this noise about? Aren't you here for a check-up?

"Work's almost over. If you're not here for the procedure, then you go."

The room hushed for a brief moment before Yale, teeth clenched, pointed at me.

"I'm here for it, alright. However, not with them. I want him."

The nurse paused, a flicker of resignation in her eyes.

"Sir, please, you know he's-"

I shot him a look. "Don't worry about it, you do your thing, I've got this."

I went through the motions, disinfecting Yale and inserting the needle, as he whispered harshly, meant only for my ears.

"How did someone with your pathetic grades even get into this hospital?

"I was actually considering letting you come home for dinner this New Year, as a one-time thing. However, if you don't help Josh, you can forget being part of this family from now on.

"And don't even think about getting a dime of your mother's and my inheritance."

His triumphant smirk was laughable to me.

Ten years gone, and Yale still saw me as that kid who, once cast out, could only cry and beg for his mercy.

I pressed the hemostatic ball onto his arm with a bit more force than necessary, watching him wince. A smirk played on my lips. "Have it your way."

Once back in my office, the door shut, and I leaned on the desk, hands shaking.

Just hearing his voice again made my legs turn to jelly.

Back when I was a kid, after every exam, Yale would beat me senseless with a ruler.

"Why are you so dumb?! How can you not solve such easy problems?!"

"The other teachers' kids all get perfect scores! You're making your mother and me look like fools!"

I would curl up, crying out in pain, "Mom, save me."

Mom would just sigh, her face etched with concern.

"Shane, can't you stand up for yourself? Your dad's a wreck over you. Do you want to be the death of him?"

I had to admit, it was difficult. I devoted every waking hour to studying, except when I was eating or sleeping.

However, the second I would try to focus on the pages, my mind would take off on a wild flight, and no matter how hard I tried, I just could not reel it back in.

It was not until I was all grown up that I found out there's this thing called Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. A quick check-up could have fixed it, but no one ever bothered.

I knew Yale was not the kind to just let things slide.

Right on cue, the day after the incident, my work phone buzzed.

"Dr. Cunningham, I heard there's a ruckus over in the med wing. Some guy from yesterday is throwing a fit, saying he's gonna complain about you."