Father Forbids His Son to Become a Dancer, Gets Sudden Call from Hospital Later — Story of the Day

When Luke confessed he wanted to become a dancer and was going to audition for a dance school, his father was dead set against his decision. He wanted a different life for Luke, so he took matters into his own hands to end his son's craze for dance, not realizing it would put the boy's life in danger.

The dinner table was set, and the aroma of freshly prepared spaghetti and meatballs filled the air. Luke's younger brother, Walter, eagerly anticipated the meal.

Eliza, their mother, served dinner and everyone sat, waiting for Harry to join. It was a significant day for Luke, who had just graduated high school and was excited to share his future plans.

Once Harry joined, they said their prayers and began eating. Harry started a conversation about their neighbor’s son.

"I must say, the Logans raised their lad well," he commented. "You know, their eldest son, Peter, came to my plant today. Young chap. But what a talented boy! He'll make a brilliant mechanic! Maybe one day he'll even become a senior mechanic!"

"Actually, Dad…" Luke nervously began, pushing his spaghetti around with the fork and barely meeting his father's eyes. "I…I, too, have some news. For everyone, including you."

Harry, misinterpreting, enthusiastically cut in, "I know, son! Now that your graduation is over, there wouldn't be a better time to discuss your future plans. But you need not worry about anything!

"I've already made arrangements for you. You do recall Frank, don't you? My dearest buddy, who owns an auto repair shop? He said you could work there until I have a spot at the plant!"

Luke, surprised and dismayed, replied, "What? No, Dad, I'm...I don't want to become a plant mechanic!"

"What do you mean?" his father asked, looking to Eliza for support. "Your mother and I already decided this for you. But before you jump into the job, you'd need to be trained. So I asked Frank to let you try your hands at his garage! You know...to help you learn your way around auto parts."

"Dad, oh god!" Luke leaned back, frustrated. "No, no, you should've asked me! I don't want to spend my entire life handling and repairing automobiles!"

"Dad, I want to be a dancer!" Luke confessed. "And I got this amazing opportunity to audition for the best dancing school. I'm going to Florida next week for it!"

Harry laughed off his son's statement. "Oh, boy, you almost got me! Luke, this isn't the time for pranks, OK? Dancing? Oh God! Not even Walter tries out such pranks these days!"

"Dad, I'm serious! I'm going to Florida next week, and that's it." Luke asserted. "I'm 90% confident that I'll make it, and I'm not gonna let this opportunity pass. I worked hard for this, Dad!"

"Well, I'm sorry, young man, but you might want to change your mind, then," Harry stated firmly. "Nobody in this family has ever done something so embarrassing, Luke!"

"Although it was your dumb hobby, I didn't mind it earlier, but I don't want to hear about it ever again. The conversation ends here, and you are not going for something as stupid as dancing!" Harry stood up and left.

"I'm not a bloody kid like Walter, Dad!" Luke shouted after him. "You can't order me around and control my life!" He left the dinner table and retreated to his room.

While Luke felt his father was being unfair, Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and put an end to his son's dancing career.

Two days before Luke was supposed to leave for Florida, Harry invited two men to his garage.

"Can't believe a father would do this to their son," one of them chuckled, glancing around Harry's garage. "You're one heartless father, aren't you?"

"You better mind your business, boy," Harry said stiffly, poking the man's chest. "You do the job. You get the money. Once you're done, we don't know each other!"

"Don't overdo anything!" Harry instructed the men, tossing an envelope of cash on the floor. "All you gotta do is intimidate him. Just a little lesson to straighten him out, yeah? And not a word to anyone! You got the money, so you better seal your lips."

"Consider it done, Daddy," one of the guys said after counting the money and left.

Harry hired the guys for a mere $40, but he was confident his plan would work.

When Luke left for Florida two days later, he hugged Eliza and Walter but ignored Harry. He was still upset with his father's actions.

Meanwhile, Harry pretended to read the newspaper, secretly watching Luke depart. After Luke left, Harry texted the men he hired, detailing Luke's location and sending a picture of his bus ticket.

"Aren't you going to the plant today?" Eliza inquired, noticing Harry's focus on his phone.

Startled, Harry quickly turned off his phone. "Uh, wha…what? Yes, yes, I was just leaving."

As Harry was leaving, Eliza called out, "Harry, wait!"

"What?" Harry asked.

"Really?" She crossed her arms. "You're going to the garage with the newspaper, leaving your work bag here? What's wrong with you today? You're acting strange!"

Harry realized his mistake, grabbed his work bag, and reassured her, "Sorry…just the work stress. See you soon!"

Driving to the plant, Harry anxiously awaited updates from the men.

Meanwhile, Luke took a shortcut to the bus stop but noticed he was being followed. He sped up, but so did the two men trailing him.

Realizing he was in danger, Luke ran into an alley, but the men caught up and confronted him.

"Going for a ride, boy?" one man teased, snatching Luke's backpack.

"Give my bag back!" Luke demanded. "Or else I'm going to call the police!"

"Jesus! The little duckling wants to phone the police," the man mocked.

"Hey! Look what's here!" the other exclaimed, finding a wallet full of cash in Luke's bag. "Duckling has quite some bucks here!" he laughed.

"No, hold on! We can't rob him!" the first man cautioned. "Man, are you risking our liberty for a mere $40?"

While they argued, Luke tried to call 911 but was thwarted as they smashed his phone and attacked him. During the altercation, Luke was knocked unconscious.

"Jesus, no, no, no! What the hell!" one assailant panicked. "We weren't supposed to hurt the kid! You messed it all up!"

"Let's leave!" The other man suggested.

"He's bleeding, for God's sake!" his partner insisted. "We gotta take him to the hospital! Man, this was not a part of the plan! His dad's not gonna leave us! We'll be in jail!"

"Are you out of your bloody mind!? Look, somebody's gonna help him, OK? Oh, c'mon, get up! Nobody's going to jail, alright?"

They fled, ditching their phones to avoid being traced.

Later, Harry, anxious about the silence from the men, received a call from a private number. He expected to get updates from the men, but the unknown caller left him terrified.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Mullins? This is Orange Blooms Hospital, sir…" Harry listened in shock and horror as the hospital receptionist informed him Luke had been rushed there after sustaining severe injuries.

"My son…in the hospital? What…what exactly happened to him?" Harry asked, tears springing to his eyes.

"...OK, yes, yes, I'm coming right now!" Harry rushed to the hospital.

"Luke…Yes, Mullins. His room number? I'm his father," he told the receptionist.

"First room on the right…down the hallway," the woman directed.

When Harry entered Luke's room, he saw the boy in bed, surrounded by beeping machines. He gently sat on the stool beside Luke's bed and held his hands.

"Son…" he whispered. "Oh god…what happened to you?"

Luke's head was wrapped in bandages, and his face and arms bore dark bruises. Harry would've never been able to forgive himself if something happened to his son.

"Dad…" Luke gently opened his eyes. "Is that you, Dad?"

"Yes, yes, son. How are you feeling?" Harry asked, struggling with guilt.

"The doctor said I was rushed here in time. He did some tests…"

"What…what tests?"

"I'll need knee surgery, Dad…if I want to dance," Luke admitted. "But hey, Dad, I bet it's going to cost quite a bit, so how about I take up that spot at your friend's auto repair shop? You know, we need the money!" he joked.

"Oh, Luke!" Harry sighed, half-smiling. "Sometimes I forget you're older than Walter! You and your ridiculous jokes! Yes, sure!" Harry played along. "C'mon, get up! I'm taking you there now!"

"But Dad," Luke became serious again. "I missed the audition. Two guys attacked me while I was on my way to the bus stop. I guess you finally won. I'm not becoming a dancer…not anytime soon, I guess. And I doubt we'll ever get those guys arrested."

Harry felt overwhelmed with guilt. "It's OK, son. It's OK. Just get well soon!" he managed to say.

Luke was eventually discharged and joined Frank's auto repair shop. His injury meant a delay in returning to dance.

On his first day at work, Harry came to see him, and Luke was relieved.

"Dad, I'm gonna need your help!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what's going on here! Are these guys gonna keep me full-time here, or what? I don't even know the bare basics when it comes to cars!"

"Well," Harry responded, "Frank said he can't hire you full-time because you don't have any experience. He suggested I train you first. Don't worry, I'll teach you everything."

Outside, Harry showed Luke an old but stunning vintage car.

"Look at this beauty!" he exclaimed. "Your first-ever consignment! You fix it; you get it! All yours, son!"

"What?!" Luke was overjoyed. "Oh my gosh, Dad! Wow! Is this a vintage car or something?"

"Yep! It was my first car…Your grandfather's!" Harry revealed.

"She's gorgeous!" Luke laughed, grateful. "Wow, Dad! Thanks! And hey, sorry for how I behaved earlier. I mean, I know you weren't really in favor of the dance thing…I'm sorry."

"Relax, son! It's okay." Harry reassured him.

As they began working on the car, Harry avoided revealing his earlier actions, focusing on helping Luke adapt to his new path.

Later, when Luke tested the car, excited by its performance, he soon realized the brakes were non-functional.

As a child darted onto the road, Luke desperately swerved to avoid him, crashing the car instead.

Back home, Harry received a call from the police. "This is the police, sir," the officer said.

"What's wrong, officer?" Harry asked nervously.

"Is the car…" The officer began, citing the registration number. "We believe the car belongs to you. Am I right?"

"Yes? But what's the matter?" Harry responded, increasingly worried.

"I'm sorry to say this, sir. But the car met with an accident. A young boy was driving it, and though the paramedics tried their best, they couldn't save him. We haven't been able to identify the body yet. We would need you to come to the police station."

Harry dropped the phone in shock. "My son…" he murmured, collapsing in grief.

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