Father Forbids His Son to Become a Dancer, Gets Sudden Call from Hospital Later — Story of the Day

When Luke confessed he wanted to become a dancer and was going to audition for a dance school, his father was dead set against his decision. He wanted a different life for Luke, so he took matters into his own hands to end his son's craze for dance, not realizing it would put the boy's life in danger.

The dinner table was already set. As the aroma of freshly prepared spaghetti and meatballs lingered, Luke's 6-year-old brother, Walter, hugged his little, grumbling tummy, unable to control his hunger.

Their mother, Eliza, served dinner and carefully fixed a plate for her husband. Then she joined the kids at the table, and everyone was now waiting for Harry. He always started the dinner, and others followed.

While Walter's mouth was watering at the delicious dinner, Luke's heart was fluttering with excitement. It was a special day for him, and he couldn't wait to make the big announcement…

Luke had finally graduated high school and knew his father would ask about his future plans. The young boy was excited to tell his family about the exciting opportunity he had gotten, which would be any minute now.

As Harry finally joined everyone at the table, they held hands and said their prayers. Then the dinner began, and just as Luke was about to tell about his plans, Harry spoke up about their neighbor's son.

"I must say, the Logans raised their lad well," he said, reaching for the salad. "You know, their eldest son, Peter, came to my plant today. Young chap. But what a talented boy! He'll make a brilliant mechanic! Maybe one day he'll even become a senior mechanic!"

"Actually, Dad…" Luke nervously began, pushing his spaghetti around with the fork and barely meeting his father's eyes. "I…I, too, have some news. For everyone, including you."

"I know, son!" his father beamed. "Now that your graduation is over, there wouldn't be a better time to discuss your future plans. But you need not worry about anything!

"I've already made arrangements for you. You do recall Frank, don't you? My dearest buddy, who owns an auto repair shop? He said you could work there until I have a spot at the plant!"

"What?" Luke looked up in surprise. "No, Dad, I'm...I don't want to become a plant mechanic!"

"What do you mean?" His father looked from him to Eliza. "Your mother and I already decided this for you. But before you jump into the job, you'd need to be trained. So I asked Frank to let you try your hands at his garage! You know...to help you learn your way around auto parts."

"Dad, oh god!" Luke's shoulders slumped, and he leaned back in his chair. "No, no, you should've asked me! I don't want to spend my entire life handling and repairing automobiles!

"Dad, I want to be a dancer! And I got this amazing opportunity to audition for the best dancing school. I'm going to Florida next week for it!"

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh, boy, you almost got me! Luke, this isn't the time for pranks, OK? Dancing? Oh God! Not even Walter tries out such pranks these days!"

Luke couldn't believe his father just dismissed him. He looked at his mother and younger brother laughing at him and felt very annoyed.

He was helluva serious about making a career in dancing, and his family thought it was a prank? Really?

"Dad, I'm serious!" he said, sounding stern. "I'm going to Florida next week, and that's it. I'm 90% confident that I'll make it, and I'm not gonna let this opportunity pass. I worked hard for this, Dad!"

"Well, I'm sorry, young man, but you might want to change your mind, then," Harry said, putting his fork down and wiping his lips gently with a napkin. "Nobody in this family has ever done something so embarrassing, Luke!

"Although it was your dumb hobby, I didn't mind it earlier, but I don't want to hear about it ever again. The conversation ends here, and you are not going for something as stupid as dancing!" he added, getting up to leave.

Luke clenched his fork angrily as he watched his father walk away. "I'm not a bloody kid like Walter, Dad!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and pushing his chair back. "You can't order me around and control my life!"

Luke didn't even finish dinner. He dashed upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Luke had worked hard to get an opportunity to audition, and he would not give it up just because his strict, conservative father thought he should become a mechanic, not a dancer.

"I hate you, Dad!" Luke grumbled as he lay in bed, recalling how causally his father had just walked away, saying he should not become a dancer.

But Harry was not so casual about it. He was worried. Very worried. He knew his son well, and watching Luke's attitude, he had sensed the boy was not going to back off.

So Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and put an end to his son's dancing career.

Two days before Luke was supposed to leave for Florida, Harry invited two men to his garage.

"Can't believe a father would do this to their son," one of them chuckled, glancing around Harry's garage. "You're one heartless father, aren't you?"

"You better mind your business, boy," Harry said stiffly, poking the man's chest. "You do the job. You get the money. Once you're done, we don't know each other!"

"You gotta relax, man," the other guy spoke up, yanking his pal away from Harry. "My mate ain't lying, alright? You gotta have the guts to accept what you do. You get me?"

Harry scoffed. "Now, you two will tell me what I should be doing? Jesus! Didn't know beggars could be choosers! Don't forget you're here working for me! Take this and get lost," he tossed an envelope on the floor.

"Treat yourself to that booze you're dying for! But yeah, don't overdo anything! All you gotta do is intimidate him. Just a little lesson to straighten him out, yeah? And not a word to anyone! You got the money, so you better seal your lips."

One of the guys counted the money and smirked. "Consider it done, Daddy," he smirked, and the men left the garage.

Harry hired the guys for a mere $40, but he was confident his plan would work.

The men were bums, desperate for money, and he was desperate to put an end to his son's craze for dance.

When Luke left for Florida two days later, he hugged Eliza and Walter, but he didn't even look at Harry. He was still upset with his father.

Harry, too, pretended to be busy reading the newspaper at the breakfast table, but he silently watched Luke leave.

As he saw the boy was out the front door, Harry typed a quick message and sent it to the men he had hired.

"My son's left the home. He'll be at the bus stop soon. The details are here..." And with that, he added the snap he had taken by sneaking into Luke's room last night. It was Luke's bus ticket.

"Aren't you going to the plant today?" Eliza asked him, seeing he was too engrossed in his phone.

Harry panicked and quickly turned off his phone. "Uh, wha…what? Yes, yes, I was just leaving."

Harry was about to walk out the front door when he heard Eliza call after him. "Harry, wait!" she cried, and he turned around. "What?"

"Really?" She crossed her arms. "You're going to the garage with the newspaper, leaving your work bag here? What's wrong with you today? You're acting strange!"

"Oh!" Harry looked down and realized he had indeed been holding the newspaper. He quickly grabbed his work bag and kissed Eliza before leaving. "Sorry…just the work stress," he lied. "See you soon!"

Harry settled in his car and drove to the plant. His heart was racing, wondering why there were no replies from the guys he had hired.

He just hoped they didn't back out from the plan.

***

Luke didn't want to be late for the bus, so he took the shortcut to the bus stop. However, he suspected someone was following him as he made the first right.

Luke quickened his pace, but he could hear the approaching footsteps. His heart pounded as he turned around and noticed two men following him.

Luke fastened his pace further, trying to check if they were really after him, and the men also picked up their speed.

The boy realized something was wrong. Luke turned into an alley and began running as fast as he could.

But to no avail. The men overtook him and shoved him to the ground. Then they circled him.

Luke was terrified. They didn't look like decent men. Then one of the guys snatched his backpack.

"Going for a ride, boy?" he chuckled, tossing the bag to his mate.

"Give my bag back!" Luke snapped. "Or else I'm going to call the police!"

"Jesus! The little duckling wants to phone the police," chuckled the guy who had snatched Luke's bag, stepping closer to him.

"Hey! Look what's here!" the other guy said. He showed his pal a wallet full of cash he found inside Luke's backpack.

"Duckling has quite some bucks here!" he laughed, counting the money.

"No, hold on! We can't rob him!" the other guy warned him. "Man, are you risking our liberty for a mere $40?"

While the men were busy conversing, Luke sneakily took out his phone and began dialing 911. But unfortunately, the men saw him. They lunged at him, grabbing the phone from his hands and stomping on it with their feet.

"What do you think you're doing, jerk?" shouted one of them.

Luke knew he would now be left without the money he had been collecting for years.

He needed that money to survive once he arrived in Florida. He had no other choice than to fight.

So while still on the ground, the young boy struck one of the men on the kneecap, causing the man to tumble to the ground.

He then charged at the other guy, but the man was bigger and stronger. He knocked Luke to the ground, and the boy's head struck the sidewalk. Luke passed out.

"Jesus, no, no, no! What the hell!" the other man cried, pulling his hair. "We weren't supposed to hurt the kid! You messed it all up!"

He dashed over to Luke and saw the crimson puddle under the boy's head.

"Let's leave!" his pal suggested. "Why are you sympathizing with little prick?! Not like it was our fault!"

"He's bleeding, for God's sake!" the man growled. "We gotta take him to the hospital! Man, this was not a part of the plan! His dad's not gonna leave us! We'll be in jail!"

"Are you out of your bloody mind!?" the other guy whispered, looking around and ensuring nobody had seen them.

"Look, somebody's gonna help him, OK? Oh, c'mon, get up! Nobody's going to jail, alright?"

The two men fled the scene. They blocked Harry's number and tossed their phones in a random trash can so they wouldn't be caught.

Later that day, Harry was checking his phone repeatedly, wondering why the men hadn't contacted him yet. When he could no longer hold his anxiety, he dialed their numbers. But the call was never connected.

Harry returned to his chair, his heart racing. Suddenly, his phone rang, and a private number flashed across his screen. He thought it must be the guys. So he quickly answered.

"Yes?" Harry asked, but he heard an unknown voice on the other end of the line.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Mullins? This is Orange Blooms Hospital, sir…" Harry listened in shock and horror as the hospital receptionist informed him Luke had been rushed there after sustaining severe injuries.

"My son…in the hospital? What…what exactly happened to him?" Harry asked, tears springing to his eyes.

"...OK, yes, yes, I'm coming right now!" he replied and hung up.

Harry stormed out of the plant and drove to the hospital.

"Luke…Yes, Mullins. His room number? I'm his father," Harry told the receptionist. "I got a call from the hospital a couple of minutes ago."

"First room on the right…down the hallway," the woman told Harry.

As Harry stood outside his son's room, he had to compose himself. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid and endangered his son's life.

When Harry entered Luke's room, he saw the boy in bed, surrounded by beeping machines. He gently sat on the stool beside Luke's bed and held his hands.

"Son…" he whispered. "Oh god…what happened to you?"

Luke's head was wrapped in bandages, and his face and arms bore dark bruises. Harry would've never been able to forgive himself if something happened to his son.

"Dad…" Luke gently opened his eyes. "Is that you, Dad?"

"Yes, yes, son. How are you feeling?" Harry asked, the guilt of putting his son's life in danger churning in his gut.

"Dad, oh god, are you crying?" the young boy smiled to lighten the tension in the air. "Relax. I'm OK…The doctor said I was rushed here in time. He did some tests…"

"What…what tests?" Harry asked. "Nothing serious, right?"

"I'll need knee surgery, Dad…if I want to dance," Luke said. "But hey, Dad, I bet it's going to cost quite a bit, so how about I take up that spot at your friend's auto repair shop? You know, we need the money!" he joked.

"Oh, Luke!" Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes I forget you're older than Walter! You and your ridiculous jokes! Yes, sure!" Harry played along. "C'mon, get up! I'm taking you there now!"

"But Dad," Luke said, getting serious. "I missed the audition. Two guys attacked me while I was on my way to the bus stop. I guess you finally won.

"I'm not becoming a dancer…not anytime soon, I guess. And I doubt we'll ever get those guys arrested."

Harry felt like he was going to die of guilt as Luke said that. For a second, he had forgotten why Luke was in the hospital.

"It's OK, son. It's OK. Just get well soon!" was all he could say.

It took a few weeks, but Luke was discharged from the hospital. And he took up the offer to join Frank's auto repair shop. Anyway, because of his surgery, he wouldn't be able to return to dancing anytime soon.

On his first day at work, Harry came to see him, and Luke was relieved. He had been wandering around aimlessly, with no idea where to start.

"Dad, I'm gonna need your help!" he said as Harry came out of Frank's office. "I don't know what's going on here! Are these guys gonna keep me full-time here, or what? I don't even know the bare basics when it comes to cars!"

"Well," Harry said. "Frank was like…he can't hire you full-time because you don't have any experience, so he suggested I train you before that. But don't worry; come with me. I got this."

Luke and Harry left Frank's shop, where they saw an old car parked on the road. The vehicle, though old-fashioned, was stunning, just like one of those vintage models.

"Look at this beauty!" Harry exclaimed, leaning against the car's window and opening his arms wide open. "Your first-ever consignment! You fix it; you get it! All yours, son!"

"What?!" Luke exclaimed in excitement. "Oh my gosh, Dad! Wow! Is this a vintage car or something?"

"Yep! It was my first car…Your grandfather's!" Harry said. "I'd left it to Frank, by the way. He liked it, and I didn't really need it. We've both grown out of it, so we decided to let you have it! Come on; this beauty needs some work now."

"She's gorgeous!" Luke laughed, running his fingertips over the car's hood. "Wow, Dad! Thanks! And hey, sorry for how I behaved earlier. I mean, I know you weren't really in favor of the dance thing…I'm sorry."

"Relax, son!" Harry said. "What do you kids say all the time? Everything's cool!"

Luke dashed to his father and wrapped him in a hug. "You're the best, Dad! Literally the best! So…where should we start?"

Harry and Luke finally made up, and seeing his son's happiness, Harry didn't have the guts to tell his son about what he had done.

He thought time would heal everything, and he focused on training Luke about cars, even hoping that one day Luke would never talk about dancing again and follow in his footsteps as a mechanic.

Luke worked on the car for a few weeks, and when he was sure it was ready for the road, he couldn't wait to try it.

As he grabbed the steering wheel and turned the ignition on, his heart leaped with excitement.

"Well, let's see what you can do!" he grinned, stepping hard on the gas pedal.

"Wohoooo!" he shouted, feeling the wind on his face as he drove the road away from Frank's garage. "This thing is old but amazing!"

But then, the car began gaining speed down the road, and Luke tried to apply the brakes. "Wait a sec…" He sensed something was wrong with the car. Luke applied the brakes, but nothing was happening.

"Damn, no! God, no!" He tried the brakes again and again. Then Luke looked up. A ball rolled onto the road before him, and a little boy rushed towards it.

"Hey, kid! Get away! Move! Move!" Luke shouted on impulse, not realizing the boy wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Please, please, c'mon!" he cried, trying to get the brakes to work. But it was all for naught.

Luke grabbed the steering wheel tightly and turned it, causing the car to veer off the road and away from the little boy.

Back home, Harry was engrossed in his TV show when his phone rang.

"Yes?" he answered, almost absentmindedly.

"This is the police, sir," said the caller, and suddenly, Harry was on his feet.

"What's wrong, officer?" he asked worriedly.

"Is the car…" The officer read out a registration number. "We believe the car belongs to you. It's registered under your name. Am I right?"

"Yes? But what's the matter?" Harry asked, getting tense.

"I'm sorry to say this, sir. But the car met with an accident. A young boy was driving it, and though the paramedics tried their best, they couldn't save him. We haven't been able to identify the body yet. But it turns out the car's brakes were not working. We would need you to come to the police station."

Harry's phone slipped from his grasp. "My son…" he whispered as his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, crying.

What can we learn from this story?

• Your children have the right to decide for themselves. You should not dismiss their choices. Harry was bent on ending Luke's passion for dance and didn't care about crossing any lines to do that. Ultimately, his actions took away his son's life.
• Support your children and encourage them. Not doing so can sometimes lead to devastating consequences. Harry's conservative attitude cost him big time. If only Luke had taken the bus to Florida, he would've never gone to the auto repair shop and lost his life.

Tell us what you think, and share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a father who kicked his daughter out and met his karma a few years later. His daughter found him begging on the streets.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.