My father was a policeman who lived by the sea.....

When I was a little girl, I would play in our living room amongst my many barbie dolls. I made a two story house out of a folding chair; under the seat was the 1st level, and the 2nd level was on the seat of the chair. I had miniature pink couches and beds for them and even a refridgerator made out of circus animal cookies box. Audrey, the red headed vixen would always get the 2nd level all to herself, while Kim-the Asian exchange student from Singapore, Elizabeth-the fun blonde from Australia, and Molly-the plainer, not so fun blonde from Minnesota had to share the 1st level. Fixing their hair was the best part.

The brown shag carpet would make my legs itchy but I didn't care. My father would be watching tv on his chair; a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My mother would be making dinner in the kitchen and it smelled good.

My father would be babbling to no one in particular while he watched M*A*S*H on television that Grandpa would always make them wake up so early to go catch fish. Grandpa was a fisherman and was really rich. He was the best fisherman in the village and knew all the good spots. I always meant to ask my father how he knew of those secret spots, and why people didn't just follow him in the early mornings to steal his secrets and encroach on his fish stash. But I never did.

My father would say how they would eat crabs, lobsters, shrimp, and of course fish 7 days a week, 3 times a day and he never got tired of it. The taste was so fresh and new, not like the seafood you get here in America. I always thought this strange because he would always take us to Long John Silver's on Sundays and get us combo meals with large Dr. Peppers. I thought the popcorn shrimp tasted pretty good.

Then that crazy show Cops would come on and I'd run to my room while the theme music played because I was afraid of that "Bad Boys, Bad Boys" song for some reason. But after it stopped playing the voices of the cops came on, I'd go back to the living room to play. My dad was almost done with his cigarettes but the refridgerator was full of beer bottles, still. I saw when mom was pulling out some green onions from the crisper.

He'd resume his nonsensical talking about how he was a policeman in Vietnam and worked in an office. He would help the Americans translate things while the war was going on. He received some medals of honor for the good jobs he'd done. Sometimes, I would imagine my father was one of those strapping men on the Cops show rolling up to convenience stores asking scantily clad women what they were doing. Or trying to hand cuff a scum bag who had just beaten his wife to the ground. Maybe if he had stayed a policeman when he came here to the States, he could have stopped that robber from cracking that glass bottle over uncle's head at mom's convenience store last month.

Audrey was staying up in her room because the other girls were jealous of her pretty looks. She didn't care that they would go out shopping or to lunch without her. She would just sit quietly in her room and sometimes cry herself to sleep.

Dad looks down at me and asks me to get him another bottle of beer. I rush over and pull a cold one out. Mom takes the bottle from me and pops the cap off. She hands it back to me and motions to my father. Dad takes the beer and kisses me on the forehead. He only has two cigarettes left. He looks back at me. "Hey, Annie, take these cigarettes and hide them from Daddy. I'm gonna quit."