“Allison!” He yelled, his voice booming with worry, and a hint of anger. My fear of my father made me contemplate the up sides of continuously floating around New York, until a gust of wind blew a migrating bird right into me.

With out a second hesitation, I took my father’s outstreched hand. He pulled me inside, and shut the door and the blinds.

“Just WHAT do you think you were doing, young lady?” He asked, his face purple with rage.

“Dad, keep it down.” I said, in a nearly inaudible whisper. “People will hear you.”

“Half of Manhattan just saw you floating around like the Goddam tooth fairy, and you think I care if some one can hear me yelling at you?”

He grabbed me by the collar and dragged me across the room to the bar.

“What are you doing?” I asked. As he mixed a drink, the bar began to move into the wall, and an opening appeared.

“You don’t get to ask any questions.” He said, as he pulled me into the passageway.