That didn't mean I thought he was a ghost, communicating from the grave. It was more like a memory of him, speaking to me from inside my own mind. I had been very close with my father, and enjoyed that I could still talk with him in my own private way."Hi, Daddy," I said to him, silently in my mind.The mental image of him stood out prominently now that he was speaking to me. I could see his familiar face with its square jaw and age lines that made him appear wise and powerful. He had a full head of grey hair, combed back away from his face. He had looked like that for as long as I could remember, except maybe without so much grey. The piercing blue eyes were what I remembered most, and what I connected with the strongest. I could feel them staring at me, even right now."What are you so worried about?" he asked, his voice filling my head.I set the magazine down and stared out the large living room window across from where I sat on the sofa. I sighed, knowing Daddy could always tell. It wasn't quite the game that I knew from home, combining some elements of American Football with the game they called 'soccer.' There were both human and Craxill players on each team, with the human players staying on the field more or less continuously, while the Craxill rotated in fresh squads periodically.Over the cheers as a goal was scored, I heard her say, "I can see you tomorrow night. We need to talk, privately. Can I come to your place? I'll bring pizza or something, and we can eat, then I'll tell you everything you need to know about me. Then, if,..."She trailed off, and I stepped into the gap."Don't panic on me. I won't lie to you and say there's no way you can scare me off, but there's certainly nothing I can imagine that could possibly be so awful that I wouldn't give you a chance to explain."As to the pizza, unless you insist, I'll take care of it. Let me know when you can get here, and Naltort will have something in the oven waiting. I think he's trying to entice you.
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