Free A Father for Philip by Judy Griffith; Gill

it’s just a reminder to the fathers that tomorrow is the day
they’re going to get the sports field ready for sportsday.”
    “My mom would come.”
    “No, Philip. I’m afraid not. But your
mom is making sandwiches and a cake for the picnic after the races on Monday,
isn’t she?”
    “Yeah... But give me a note anyway,
please Miss Walker. I’ll give it to my friend Jeff. He’s building a log cabin
and he’s real strong he could do more work than all those dumb old dads.”
    Miss Walker had looked sad and given him
a copy of the form letter. On the bus, Jamie Peters, who was fat and had a fat
dad, too, said, “Aw, you haven’t got a dad to help with the field and I bet
your old Jeff guy won’t come either. I bet you haven’t even got a friend named
Jeff.”
    “I have so! I have so! You wait! You ask
your dad after Saturday and see what he says! My friend Jeff will so come and
help!”
    “I can’t ask my dad after Saturday cause
he won’t even be there. He’s got better things to do. He has a golf game with
his boss. I bet your old Jeff guy’s got better things planned, too.”
    Oh. Maybe Jeff wouldn’t go to the school to help. This hadn’t occurred to Philip
before, but now it weighed heavily on his mind. He trudged slowly down the path
and into the house, creeping quietly inside. He didn’t want to talk to his
mother just yet.
    He could hear his mom and Kathy talking
in the living room, and he stood eavesdropping for a few minutes, putting off
the time when he had to take the note Jeff. Soon, because the conversation in
living room wasn’t all that interesting, just about his dad hadn’t come home,
ever, and he’d heard that lots of times, he grabbed some cookies, took the note
out of his lunch kit and went to the other side of the hill.
    Panting, he came to halt beside Jeff,
who grinned down at him “Hi, sport!”
    “Jeff! Jeff! Will you go to the school
on Saturday.... tomorrow… an’ help with the field for sportsday on Monday? The
teacher wasn’t gonna give me a note ’cause I don’t have a dad and my mom said
even if he did come back he’d have to have an awful damn good reason for
staying away for so long and—I’m not allowed to say ‘damn’, so don’t tell,
okay? but I haven’t got a dad to go and I told Miss Walker you would go and she
gave me the note.” He sucked in a long breath and pushed the note at Jeff. “I
told her you were strong and could build a log cabin and do more work than any
of the dads!” His wide, light gray eyes looked up at Jeff with faith and trust
and hope.
    Jeff read the note which was addressed
to “Dear fathers”, folded it small and tucked it away in his shirt pocket. He
hunkered down behind the boy and said, “Sport, why don’t you ask Grant?”
    “Oh, Grant wouldn’t do anything like
that. Besides, he’s gone away.” The light in Philip’s eyes showed that this was
to be treated as good news. “Hey, Jeff, what’s frigid? Grant said that to mom
and she didn’t even say goodnight to him. Is in a bad word like ‘damn’?”
    Jeff smiled. “No, Phil. Not really, but
it would be sure to make your mom mad. Probably even madder than ‘damn’.” His
smile turned into a grin, as if he were amused at some secret joke. He rumpled
the hair on Philip’s head. “Tell you what… I’ll go to the school tomorrow, and
if I see Miss Walker I’ll tell her you sent me. Okay?”
    Philip beamed. “Okay!” Then, obviously
thinking that if favors were being bestowed, it was up to him to do a little
bestowing himself, he said, “Sunday is my birthday, Jeff. Do you want come to
dinner?”
    Jeff looked sadly at his companion.
“Son,” he said slowly, “I’d like nothing better than to come to dinner on your
birthday, but I bet your mom has already planned on the number of guest she’s
having. One more might upset all her plans, and then where’d we be?”
    “But there’s still time to ask her, and
she could cook a bigger cake,” Philip