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Hi, there, this is a short story I started writing two days back. The first part can be found here if you missed it. Thanks!

"Town kids have been up to a lot of mischief lately. They bring all kinda nasty pranks into your home if you don't keep your doors properly shut," her father, sensing her apprehension, explained away.

To that, Mary exclaimed an "Oh!" of understanding. And like that, he would also explain away his reasons for insisting that Mary stayed in her former room while her kids shared the guest room. It wasn't entirely weird, anyway. But she had thought that her former room seemed a little teenage and would be more befitting for the kids.

***

The next morning, a Saturday, Mary got up for an early morning jog. She would also use that to see around town. Hopefully, she would find something worth reminiscing about the town she ran away from years before. She made it downstairs only to find the door still bolted and this time with a big padlock fastened to it. Her father must have added the extra layer of security after she had gone to bed last night.

"The kids here must have some really mean pranks up their sleeves," she thought, trying to make sense of her father's security consciousness as she went upstairs to get the key from her father's room. She spied into the guest room, her kids were still sound asleep. She smiled, finding her old man snoring like a typical sixty-year-old. She spied the bunch of keys lying on his nightstand right next to an old twin bell alarm clock. That she remembered. She had gifted it to her parents on their 10th wedding anniversary during the good old days. The jingle of the keys startled her father awake as he grabbed hold of her wrist with an unbelievable reflex for someone his age.

"Hey, it's me. Dad. Just going to take a run around the neighbourhood," she explained, finding herself feeling a little awkward after referring to him as 'dad'. Somehow, she had not fully reconciled with him. As far as she was concerned, he was still the man who made battering her a habit after the demise of his wife. As though she was responsible for her death.

Realising that his daughter wasn't running away like she did some years before, he heaved, "Oh, my Mary. Yeah, go ahead," his tone still immersed in sleepiness.

***

As Mary jogged through the dirt road that led outside the orchard of her father's house, she reflected on the conversation she had with him the previous night.

"So you obviously lied about your health?" She had brought up the question about the mail again after her kids had gone up to bed, interrupting the old man as he went on about how good-looking and well nourished his grandchildren were.

"I'm sorry, child. But I had to. I knew you wouldn't be easily convinced to come back home," he had paused for awhile and then continued, "You know a few years after you left, I got sober and realised how terribly I've treated you. I let my grief get the best of me and blamed you for it. I'm sorry, but lying that I was dying was the only way I could convince you. I knew it was the only way I could get to see my little Mary again."

It made sense to her why he had to lie. But she still wasn't happy with it, especially because she had to cancel her plans for that weekend. Spotting an old lady sitting in a rocking chair outside her house, she recovered from her thinking. It was Mrs Jackson. The Jacksons' home was the closest to Mary's parent's home. She remembered visiting them every Sunday evening with her family while growing up. She neared the house to greet her.

"Hi, Mrs Jackson! How do you do?" realising that the old lady was finding it hard to recognise her, she added, "It is I, Mary. Mary Addison."

"My goodness, it really is you, sweet child! All nicely grown into a fine young woman," the old lady exclaimed, getting on her feet to hug her after which a session of other pleasantries followed.

"So, how's Mr Jackson?"

"It's been two years since he passed," Mrs Jackson answered, "Now, he's with the good Lord."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, Mrs Jackson," said Mary as she paused a little before adding, "It really must be hard being all by yourself now, especially having to cope with the pranks lately."

"Of course, it's no longer the same without my darling Jackson but what's it you mean by pranks?" the old lady asked, a little confused.

"Well, my father's been very paranoid and he tells me it's because the kids around here have been up to no good,"

Mrs Jackson shook her head in disagreement, "Huh-uh, that's not true. As you used to know it's always very quiet around here. There's been no pranks at all."

Then it dawned on Mary. Her father had lied again. If there were no pranking kids, then her father's uptightness with security must be for a different reason. She must find out what he was hiding or being cautious about, she thought as she headed back home after the conversation with Mrs Jackson.

To be continued.