“I’m sorry to have to inform you of this, but at three o’clock this afternoon, your father was killed in a freak accident.”

“Err…Are you sure?” Sophie asked sceptically, she looked the police woman up and down almost as if to gauge if she was playing some practical joke.

“You are Sophie Peterson?”

“Well, yes, but I saw my father 5 seconds before I answered the door and unless he somehow discovered the time/space continuum and then tripped… I doubt you’re talking about him.” The police woman then looked very confused, and suddenly raised the hat she had been holding in front of her out of respect awkwardly back onto her head.

“Who is it?” At that moment Sophie’s father appeared behind her looking quizzical at the police officer standing in his doorway. “Can I help you?”

“Careful Dad, I’m not quite sure how police deal with false information about deaths, but her gun and a body bag might just rectify her situation.” Sophie’s comical attitude and phrases caused no reaction in her father, he was used to it.

“I’m sorry, Mr Peterson?” The policewoman on the other hand seemed a little taken back by the 18 year old girls comments and instead turned her attention to the man standing behind Sophie.

“Call me John. Can I help you with something?”

“This is a rather awkward situation but I was sent here to inform Sophie of the death of her father.”

“Oh…well…” Sophie’s father suddenly returned the same confused uncomfortable look that was on the police woman’s face. “Are you sure?” It was an odd question to ask about such a serious topic, but as it appeared that he was perfectly healthy and… alive, there wasn’t much else to say.

“Mr Peterson I think you misunderstand.” Sophie’s internal laughter stopped when the officer said this. The officers tone wasn’t uncomfortable because she was wrong, but because Sophie and her Father had misunderstood something. “I’m talking about Mr Issteph, Mr Chris Issteph. Sophie’s real father.” Sophie and her father then exchanged looks.

“You’re talking about my biological father?” Sophie was adopted when she was 3 months old, her parents told her as soon as she was old enough to understand, but she was never once intrigued by the identity of her real parents, as her adoptive ones had raised her practically from birth.

“Yes, it was stated in his will that you were to be notified of his death.”

“You read someone’s will in less than 5 hours after they’ve died?” Sophie wasn’t sure why it mattered that they did, but she felt nothing for the man who had died.

“Yes, some people are very peculiar about activities been performed immediately after their death.”

“Ok…, you have to understand officer; I haven’t seen my… father, since I was a month old, and I’m not sure how good your memories are concerning your first month on earth… mine are rather vivid.” The officer looked a little surprised at this news.

“Oh, well, ok, we assumed from the instructions that perhaps you were still in contact with him.”

“Well I haven’t so… what instructions?”

“Just to inform you of his death. And to inform you that a funeral will be held sometime in the next two days.”

“Ok, thank you, I think.” The officer seemed happy that Sophie had ended the conversation, she then tipped her cap and turned and left the house. As the door closed Sophie turned to her father.

“I’m not expected to attend, right?” Her father looked as shocked and clueless about the situation as she did.

“Err, well, no. But, I mean if it was in the man’s will that you should be informed… maybe.”

“Why? So I can have some heartfelt and emotional long lost reunion with, a coffin?” Her father gave her a look that suggested he didn’t think it was appropriate to joke about.

“Well, let’s just wait and see, perhaps we can just send a card.”

“To who? The priest? Sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral, had to buy milk, sincerely, adopted daughter of Mr Issteph.”

“Don’t make jokes about the dead. It’s bad luck.”

“No, being dead is bad luck, joking about it is part of the healing process.”

“Go upstairs; I should talk to your mother about this.”

“Gladly.” Sophie climbed the stairs and then entered her bedroom. It was covered in a range of posters with a desk in the corner with piles of DVDs and CDs. Her bed was a king size and took up the rest of the space in the room. She collapsed onto it just in time to hear her mother downstairs shout;

“WHAT!?!” Sophie smiled to herself. Her mother was never very good at reacting to news, good or bad. She had once won 3000 dollars on the lottery and almost fainted. Sophie spent a good hour listening to music and pondering her biological father. Then she heard the footsteps of her parents coming up the stairs. Her father entered first with his usual calm tone, followed by her mother who, even though it had been an hour since she had heard the news, still looked white with shock.

“We’ve decided that we think you should go to the funeral.” Her father spoke in a general tone that explained this had been what they were talking about for an hour.

“Yeh, I guess if it was in the guys will for me to attend, I can understand.”

“Good. Oh and Soph?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to try and not make so many jokes at the funeral, people might not appreciate it.”

“But I have so much fresh material.” Her father smiled as he walked out the room, her mother just nodded in approval.

Then next day Mr Issteph’s obituary was in the newspaper, outlining the funeral would be held the day after at a cathedral. Apart from planning her following day around it, and then convincing her father to accompany her, she didn’t really think much about it until she arrived the next day. She was dressed in a black dress with a black hat, her father wearing his black suit and tie. This was what Sophie would assume be appropriate attire, but as she entered the cathedral, it appeared she stood out. Everyone else at the funeral was wearing very bright very exuberant colours. Men were in bright red, blue and even canary yellow suits, the women in matching dresses.

“Did I just walk in to the reject 80’s musical?” Sophie puzzled to her father as she looked vey confusingly down at her own attire.

“John had a very odd sense of humour, he requested that everyone wear bright colours so that they might look back on this day and laugh.” Sophie turned around to see a man dressed in a yellow jacket and pants, accompanied by a bright blue shirt and pink tie.

“Sounds like he was quite the comedian.” Sophie’s father said this, as almost a hint to his daughter as to suggest that her comical comments might be biological.  

“Yeh, the best in the business, I’m Peter, I worked with John. How do you know him?” Sophie’s father looked cautiously as he prepared to answer the question, unfortunately Sophie jumped in before he could.

“Well I’m John’s daughter, he set me up for adoption when I was 3 months old and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. It was in his will that I should attend.”  Peter looked confused for a second, and then broke into a huge smile and a private chuckle. “I’m being serious.”

“Oh no I believe you, it’s just that it sounds exactly like something he would do as a practical joke, not that you are of course.”

“No I’m sure he had high morals he wanted to live up to after his death.” Sophie commented.

“Can’t have been much worse than the one’s he lived by when he was alive.”

“I can imagine.”

“How?”

“Well I’m not sure, but putting a 3 month old baby up for adoption with no explanation or intention gives me a little in sight to who he might have been.” Sophie realised after she had finished talking that she might have insulted the man, his friend having just died.  “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“No, its fine. But if it makes you feel any better John only started to be successful about 10 years ago. And from looking at you I would say that was a few years after he put you up for adoption. I don’t know much other than he lost his wife 18 years ago, and back then he was a struggling writer, most likely incapable of supporting a child.” As Sophie listened she felt a first feeling of realization, firstly that her biological mother assumingly died in child birth, and that she was put up for adoption by her ‘father’ out of sympathy for her.

“Thank you, that does explain some things, I’m sorry if I offended your friend before.” Sophie rarely felt bad about her quick tongue, only if it really was inappropriate. But she was a little taken aback when again when Peter enjoyed his private chuckle again.

“John was an incredible writer, in many ways I admired him, but he was no friend. As a boss he worked us hard, late and more often than not, rejected what we wrote.” Sophie’s sudden sympathy for the man was temporarily returned to surprise.

“Oh, well, suddenly I don’t feel so bad. You said ‘successful writer’? What did he write exactly?”

“Oh lots of things, a couple of books, but you probably won’t have heard of them. But for the last few years he’s been the head writer and executive producer of the drama series ‘Graduates’. You heard of it?”

“Are you kidding? Quick witted university students? Lots of cute boys? I practically live by it.” Sophie had discovered the show a couple of years ago when it was in its second season.  She had been reasonably obsessed with it ever since. “You’re a writer for the show too?”

“Yes, well, kind of. John had his favourites, and usually uses them to help write the show, but the occasional episode he sometimes requires a couple of extra writers, or researchers.”

“And that’s you?”

“That was me, since John died the show ended.”

“Ended? But the last season ended in a cliff hanger, has the last season already been written?”

“John had written a pilot script for the season and a couple of episode ideas, but the studio didn’t approve it.” Sophie recalled the end of the last season as John spoke. The show itself was centred on two best friends who had both attended the same high school, but then went on to different colleges, both boys had separate courses, friends, and each had their own girlfriend. But once a week they got together for an hour on their local radio station on which they had their own show. There was a lot of comedy in it, especially since the ‘radio show’ was a comedic one, but it was a drama due to the often seriousness of the issues both boys faced. The last season they both going into their final year of studies, one of them was planning to leave the country at the end of their education, and due to a lot of ethical infringements the ‘radio show’ was threatening to be cancelled. “John had some great ideas that would have made for great television the network just didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Was he depressed after that happened?” Sophie asked this as she suddenly realised she hadn’t learnt how her ‘father’ had died.

“He fought with the studio for a month, but he was looking more and more tired every day.”

“Is that how he died?”

“Maybe…. That or the truck that hit him.”