The Man of the ...Tent

“Alexandra, have you been listening to your mother?” my father, General Fason Kline asked.

“Of course,” I responded, knowing where this was going. We’d had this conversation so many times that my father sounded bored. But then again, he always sounded bored if it didn’t involve important things, like supply routes and infantry stories. Family, nope. That didn’t matter. If it wasn’t military related, it wasn’t on my father’s priority list.

“If you were, we wouldn’t need to have this conversation again. She only wants what’s best for you and to give you the best education you can get while you’re out here,” he said.

“Maybe I don’t want to get an education while I’m out here. Maybe I don’t even want to be out here!” I said angrily. I wanted to throw something, but they were in my father’s tent and the only things I could throw would probably end up hurting me before they did any damage.

“You seemed excited about it when we told you,” he answered.

“Ya, because I thought I’d do something out here besides sit on my behind, reading my math book. I wanted adventure and all that I’ve got so far is homework and solitude. I don’t want it. I want to go home!” I shouted at him.

“You are home. Get used to it,” he said coldly, dismissing me with his eyes.

“If this were home, I’d have people here I loved,” I responded icily, leaving the tent as quickly as I could. Now I knew was going on that ride, just because he wouldn’t want me to. Mwa ha ha!  I added to myself.