To avoid disgrace, she agreed to marry a dwarf But when he whispered his request in her ear, she knelt
John, is that you, love?
Yes, Mum, its me! Sorry its so late
His mothers voice, trembling with worry and exhaustion, came from the dark hallway. She stood there in an old dressing gown, torch in handas if shed been waiting for him her whole life.
Johnny, my darling, whereve you been till this hour? The skys black as pitch, stars shining like foxs eyes in the woods
Mum, Dave and I were studying. Exams, revision I lost track of time. Sorry I didnt call. You barely sleep as it is.
Or were you off with some girl? she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Fallen in love, have you?
Mum, dont be daft! John laughed, kicking off his shoes. Im not the sort lasses wait for by the gate. Whod want me anywaya hunchback with arms like an ape and hair like a thistle?
But pain flickered in her eyes. She didnt say she saw not a freak, but the son shed raised in hardship, in cold, in loneliness.
John truly wasnt handsome. Barely five foot tall, bent-backed, with long arms that nearly brushed his knees. His head was large, crowned with wild curls like dandelion fluff. As a boy, they called him monkey, woodland sprite, natures oddity. But he grewand became more than just a man.
He and his mum, Margaret, had come to this village when he was ten. Fled the cityfrom poverty, shame: his father jailed, his mother gone. Just the two of them left. Two against the world.
That Johnny of yours wont last, old Mrs. Tate muttered, eyeing the frail boy. Hell drop through the earth, and nonell notice.
But John didnt drop. He clung to life like roots to stone. Grew, breathed, worked. And Margareta woman with a heart of steel and hands ruined from bakingbaked bread for the whole village. Ten hours a day, year after year, until she broke.
When she took to bed, never to rise again, John became son, daughter, doctor, nurse. He scrubbed floors, cooked porridge, read old magazines aloud. When she diedsoft as a field breezehe stood by her coffin, fists clenched, silent. He had no tears left.
But folk remembered. Neighbours brought food, gave warm clothes. Then, unexpectedly, they started visiting. First lads fascinated by radiosJohn worked at the repair shop, fixing receivers, tuning antennas, soldering wires. His hands were gold, though clumsy-looking.
Then girls came. First just for tea and jam. Then lingering. Laughing. Talking.
And one day he noticed: one of themEmilyalways stayed last.
Not in a rush? he asked when the others had gone.
Nowhere to rush to, she murmured, staring at the floor. Stepmother hates me. Three brothers, all rough and cruel. Dad drinksIm just in the way. Staying with a friend, but that wont last Hereits quiet. Peaceful. I dont feel alone.
John looked at herand for the first time, understood he could be needed.
Live with me, he said simply. Mums rooms empty. Youd keep house. And I Ill ask for nothing. Not a word, not a glance. Just be here.
People talked. Whispered behind his back:
Hows that, then? A dwarf and a beauty? Thats rich!
But time passed. Emily cleaned, cooked soup, smiled. And Johnworked, stayed quiet, cared.
When she had a son, the world turned upside down.
Whos he look like? the village asked. Who?
But the boy, Daniel, looked at John and said, Dad!
And John, whod never dreamed of fatherhood, felt warmth bloom in his chestlike a tiny sun.
He taught Daniel to fix plugs, fish, read. Emily, watching, said:
You ought to find a wife, John. Youre not alone.
Youre like a sister, he replied. First well see you married. To a good man. Then well see.
And such a man came. Young, from the next village. Honest. Hardworking.
They held the wedding. Emily left.
But one day John met her on the road and said:
Ive a favour Let me keep Daniel.
What? she gasped. Why?
I know, Em. When you bear a childeverything changes. But Daniel hes not yours by blood. Youll forget him. And I I cant.
I wont give him up!
Im not taking him, John said softly. Visit when you like. Just let him live with me.
Emily hesitated. Then called her son:
Danny! Come here! Saywho do you want to live with? Me or Dad?
The boy ran over, eyes bright:
Cant it be like before? Both of you?
No, Emily said sadly.
Then I stay with Dad! Danny cried. Mum, you come visit!
So it was.
Daniel stayed. And John truly became a father.
But one day Emily returned:
Were moving to the city. Im taking Danny.
The boy howled like a wounded thing, clinging to John:
I wont go! Im staying with Dad!
John Emily whispered, eyes down. Hes not yours.
I know, John said. I always knew.
Ill run back to Dad! Danny sobbed.
And he did. Again and again.
They took himhe returned.
Finally, Emily gave in.
Have it your way, she said. Hes chosen.
Then a new story began.
Next door, Marys husband drowned. A drunk, a tyranta monster. God gave them no childrenthered been no love in that house.
John started coming by for milk. Then to mend the fence, patch the roof. Then just to visit. Drink tea. Talk.
They grew close. Slowly. Carefully. Like grown-ups.
Emily wrote letters. Said Daniel had a sisterDaisy.
Bring her, John wrote. Family should be together.
A year later, they came.
Daniel doted on his sister. Held her, sang lullabies, taught her to walk.
Son, Emily begged. Live with us. The citys got theatre, school, opportunities
No, Daniel shook his head. I wont leave Dad. And Aunt Marys like a mum now.
Thenschool.
When boys boasted of dads who were drivers, soldiers, engineers, Daniel never faltered.
My dad? hed say proudly. He can fix anything. He understands how the world works. He saved me. Hes my hero.
A year passed.
Mary and John sat by the fire with Daniel.
Were having a baby, Mary said. A little one.
You wont send me away? Daniel whispered.
What nonsense! Mary cried, hugging him. Youre as dear to me as my own. The child I always wanted!
Son, John said, watching the flames. How could you think that? Youre my world.
Months later, little Alfie was born.
Daniel held his brother like treasure.
Now Ive a sister, he murmured. And a brother. And Dad. And Aunt Mary.
Emily still called.
But Daniel always answered:
Im already home.
Years passed. Folk forgot Daniel wasnt blood. Stopped whispering.
When Daniel became a father himself, he told his children and grandchildren about the best dad in the world.
He wasnt handsome, Daniel said. But he had more love than anyone Ive known.
And every year, on the anniversary, they gatheredMarys children, Emilys children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren.
They drank tea, laughed, remembered.
Best father we ever had! the grown-ups would say, raising mugs. Heres to more like him!
And always, someones finger pointed upto the sky, the stars, the memory of the man who, against all odds, became a true father.
The only one.
Unforgettable.
