
My father was a mountain keeper and he'd been marrying new wives ever since I could remember.
It was strange that none of them lived past three days. They always ended up dead in bed.
I often tried to advise him, "You're not getting any younger, Dad. Can your body even handle this?"
My father would always pat me on the shoulder. He chuckled as he told me, "A man's a boy until the day he dies."
I laughed but felt resentful since my father was getting married to his 100th wife this time and she was a classmate.
——
I couldn't understand why so many women were willing to marry my father.
My ninety-ninth stepmother had secretly told me a secret: my father had something special that made any woman fall in love with him.
So, I asked my father, "What's your special something?" He always told me earnestly, "You'll understand when you're older."
But I was already eighteen and I still didn't get it.
All I knew was that my ninety-ninth stepmother had screamed "Help!" in his room before dropping dead.
Later, the doctor and the police came and scrutinized her. They came to the conclusion that my stepmother had died of a heart attack.
Still, I didn't believe it. I thought my father was a murderer.
Now, I was starting to suspect he'd killed my birth mother, too.
My classmatem Sandra Miller, was next in line to marry him and I had to stop it.
I sneaked into the village to see Sandra while my father slept at night.
Sandra was an orphan. She just turned 18 and wanted to marry my father, a 60-year-old man.
I said, "Sandra, aren't you ashamed? Why do you have to like an older man? Aren't you afraid the villagers will secretly laugh at you?"
Sandra looked indifferent. She shrugged and said, "Why would they laugh at me? Your dad and I are truly in love."
Since I was old enough to understand things, ninety-eight women had said the same to me.
I was puzzled. What kind of true love did she have with my dad? She had spent far more time interacting with me than with him. I frowned. "Don't tell me you fell in love with my dad at first sight."
Sandra covered her mouth and giggled. "It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but your dad has a special something."
This was the second woman I'd heard mention this "special something." I wondered what kind of special something could make a hundred women follow each other to their deaths at the hands of my dad?
I questioned her sharply, "Have you been cursed by my dad?"
The thought of my ninety-ninth stepmother's tragic dying scream made me want to save Sandra.
I grabbed Sandra's arm, ready to take her away from the village. "Don't be foolish! If you marry my dad, you'll die too. Hurry up and come with me!"
Slap!
Sandra raised her hand and slapped me across the face. Her eyes turned cold and she said, each word distinct, "Even if your dad kills me, I still want to marry him."
My vision swam with stars from the slap. When I finally recovered, Sandra pushed me out the door with both hands.
She slammed the door shut, driving me out altogether.
I knocked hard on the door, but Sandra warned me.
"Dominic, if you harass me again, I'll tell your dad."
My confidence instantly vanished. I stared blankly at the door, then turned and left.
After all, you can't reason with someone determined to die.
If Sandra insisted on dying at my father's hands, what could I do?
I left in a huff.
When I got back home, my father was still sleeping soundly.





