When we had arrived home, a red car was parked in our driveway. When we
stepped out so did someone in their car. I heard a car door slam and watched
as a figure stepped out the car.
"Who's that?" I asked.
"It's someone from DCF." She said scared. This was the only time Barbra even
seemed a little bit frightened. As we watched the woman step out of her car,
Barbra and I looked at each other. Our gazes were clenched in the grip of
our fear.
"Did you clean the house today?" I asked knowing all to well what the social
worker was going to do.
"Yes. Last night when you three were passed out."
"And did you also get the stuff in the sink?"
"Yes." She said watching the woman like a hawk.
"So what's the story this time?" I said in a rush.
"The usual. Self defense. Besides, she has nothing on me."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah I am." At that instant, she fidgeted beside me. I wondered why she
did that until I heard the social workers precise primly body saunter over
to us. As the blur drew closer, I began to notice her figure. It was
delegate and petite with a round haughty face pinched together with thin
small cheeks. I couldn't see her mouth or her nose or her eyes. The blur in
front of me exclaimed with obvious fake happiness.
"Why hello there Mrs. Stout!" I rolled my head, which was my equivalent of
rolling my eyes at her voice. It was slightly preppy as if she came from
California. It had an air about it that resembled power. It also radiated
intelligence as if it were a wave waiting to be let loose onto the world. I
had a hunch that she wasn't as big of a dummy as she portrayed to others.
"Hey." Barbra snapped.
"So how are we doing this fine afternoon?" she tittered. I hated her
already, and I still couldn't see her face.
"I'm fine. What about you?"
"I'm doing okay. Work has been interesting to say the least." What the heck
was she doing? Trying to chat my mom up?
"Oh. That's a shame."
"I want to know something." I quickly jumped in. "you look very young and
attractive. How long have you been working for DCF?"
"Not too long." She dodged, "but enough."
"This is my oldest son, Robert."
"Nice to make your acquaintance young sir!" she gushed. I didn't know why
but I hated her even more just then. I didn't care if she dropped dead right
on the spot.
"Yours too." I said practically trying to kill her hand with mine. Her round
face gave me a smile.
"Well Mrs. Stout, I think you know why I am here, as I'm sure you do
Robert." I was quick to shake my head, but she nearly caught my mom off
guard.
"What do you plan to do?" my mom asked just in time.
"Well, standard procedure. I check out the house, and then I question the
witness or victims, in that case that would be the offspring, also known as
your kids."
"Just call us children." I snapped at her. My mom and she looked directly at
me.
"Are you sure, Mrs. Stout, that you don't know how the system works? What
about your kids?"
"This is the first time I ever had a call here." Barbra lied astonished.
"Oh is it now?" she swooned as if my mom had just told her a deep dark
secret. "Are you sure? Are you really sure there hasn't been any past record
of you?"
"Look, if she knew one she would tell you." I snapped. She instantly turned
towards me.
"You're very opinionated." She observed. "How old are you?"
"I'm 17."
"Oh. I have a son about your age."
"That's nice. Is he just a big of a nosey bitch as you are?" I mumbled
making sure she wouldn't hear me. I didn't know why I hated her so fiercely.
Her voice was very irritating to me, but lots of people had irritating
voices. So then, why did I hate her so much?
"So, why are you here?" my mom cut in sensing the tension between all three
of us.
"I just want to check out your house and everything, and talk to your kids.
Standard procedure."
"Of course. You want to butt in our lives." I mumbled. I was very glad she
didn't hear me.
"Last Friday," she began without even looking down at the clipboard in her
hands, "there was a case of domestic violence within this house. Usually
when that happens, normally children are involved, so, it's my job to see to
it that they are safe. I want to know that your kids are being taken proper
care of."
"So, since your obviously so skilled at this, how many cases have you had?"
I asked once again wishing she would slip up and tell me, so I can deduce
her experience level. She wasn't a dummy though.
"I've had my share of cases, but not as much as others I know. I'm quite
average. Now, Robert, perhaps you want to answer some questions for me?" she
didn't waste time.
"Can we do this inside?" I asked wishing she would kill two birds with one
stone by interrogating me while standing in a clean, polished house.
"Of course. It's quite hot out here don't you think?" she asked me as I
limped into my house. My mom and I both knew what she was doing. She knew
that we knew.
As we stepped into the house she looked all around as if she would
find some interesting foot resting on the couch.
"Hmm. Interesting. Is your house always this clean?" I had a feeling
we knew pretty well she knew we would lie. That would be very obvious. I
opened my mouth ready to speak but Barbra jumped in.
"No. it's not."
"Very interesting." She said marking something on the clipboard she
held. "How much are you home Mrs. Stout?"
"Well, I work." My mom lied. "What do you think?" I wanted to laugh
at my mom's sarcasm, but she ignored it just as I knew she would.
"Where's your son?" she said looking for me.
"Don't you want to finish asking me questions first?" my mom asked.
This woman was good but she wasn't that skillful about hiding her motives.
She wanted to see if I would slip up and reveal something. That was fine
with me, I was ready for her even before Barbra was. I even wanted to step
right out in front of her so we can get it over with.
"I do, it's just standard procedure for me to interview the children
in this case." My mom laughed softly behind her back as she looked in my
direction by the stove in the very small square kitchen.
"What's your name again?"
"It's Robert."
"Ah. It's Robert. You know, one of my best friends is named Robert."
So she was going to try that route huh? It was time for me to shut down, as
I always did when these people tromped through our lives. If I shut down,
she could never know my emotions. It was the perfect defense against these
people.
"Okay. That's nice." I said with zero emotion. I could tell just by
her stunned reply that she didn't like what I was doing.
"Well don't you have anything more to say?"
"Nope. I usually keep to myself." I noticed a little too late how
badly I had screwed up. She smiled, knowing I screwed up, and just as I
predicted, she jumped on this like some life jacket that was just tossed out
to her. Her thin mouth cocked its way into a smile I hated just as much as
her high fake voice.
"Really. Do you want to tell me why?" her eyes were reaching deep
into me I knew, even if I couldn't see them. I knew they were probing eager
to change my life, to put me out on the streets. My anger took over.
"Yeah. Why shouldn't you know?" I said my brain turning way beyond
the speed of my mouth. It was a good thing I shut down because by now my
face would have shown how hard I was thinking.
"You better not make up any stories again." My mom called panicking.
The social worker looked sharply back at Barbra, who instantly shut up. She
then turned her complete attention on my mom.
"Does he always make up stories?" she asked with obvious eagerness.
She was like a power source looking for holes. She was looking for slip-ups.
She was very good, which meant we would have to be extra careful. I didn't
think my mom could handle her onslaught of questions, or her. I had to speak
up.
"I like making them up." I said before she could completely
concentrate on my mom. I began to realize how she worked. She was a skillful
people reader, as I called them back then. She far surpassed me, but her
issue was she could only do it with one person at a time, and it also looked
like she searched for emotion. Barbra didn't know how to switch off as I
did. She was showing this now as she snapped at the social worker.
"THAT'S RIGHT! He loves making up stories. Don't you tell her any
lies."
"I won't." I said signaling to her she didn't have anything to worry
about. Barbra didn't relax as I talked. Her emotions became carvings in the
stone slab of her soul. Everyone knew she was afraid. If I could sense it,
then I'm sure our blood hound could as well, and better than me. She had
experience on me.
"Do you enjoy telling stories?"
"Quite a bit," I smugly said. She took a note on her clipboard.
"What kind of stories?"
"All kinds. I just like telling them."
"Sometimes he gets a little out of hand." Barbra cut in.
"I do admit that I'm a good liar. In fact, I look at it as a sort of game. I
just want to see, sometimes, even if people will believe me." I wanted her
to think I had a behavior problem so she wouldn't take me seriously.
"Ah! Very interesting." She said looking hard at me. Her face drooped, as if
this were sad news to her. I was trying to plant it in her head that she
wouldn't be able to trust anything I said, I wanted her to automatically
dismiss anything I said in case I did in fact screw up. She got right down
to my level in the clean kitchen baked in the evening sun.
"I think you do it for attention." How did she know that? How in the world
could she know that? I had to make her go away. She knew way, and I mean
excessively way too much, even if she didn't know it.
"Yeah? You think so? You know what I think? I think the way you look is just
for attention too. Why are you down here anyway? Something you want to look
at that's not anywhere else. Looking for blood stains?" she didn't like my
sarcasm.
"Let me ask you something, since you want to talk so much. Are you a good
student in school?"
"Yeah I guess, if you don't count homework that is."
"He has an organization problem." Barbra jumped in.
"That's understandable." She said finally taking a closer look at the
cleaned cabinets. I could tell she was studying the bright brown with what
looked like new wood. I knew my mom was up all night the night before, and
I admired her for doing all of this. She didn't even seem tired. How strong
she was, and how determined. I didn't know anyone else who could do that.
"You done looking at my house?" Barbra snapped letting the blood hound know
we both didn't want her there.
"Almost. Well, your house looks very clean. But there's something that's
been bothering me."
"And what's that? Your existence?" I snapped. Ignoring me, she concentrated
on what seemed to be the weakest link. Barbra stared her down as she asked
in a clipped voice.
"Mrs. Stout, the domestic charge last Friday involved alcohol. Now, you may
not have it open here and now, but it doesn't take a dog to smell something.
You do drink, so how much?
"How much have you drank in your youth? I know you're not a saint." I shot
at her. She turned slowly to me giving me a smile wishing I would shut up.
"I'm asking your mom some questions young man. When I need you, I'll come
find you. Go on now. I'm done with you for now." I grinned, very pleased
with my acting skills. But this bitch was going to come to the Florida
School for the Deaf and the Blind. I knew she was. I had to know when she
would talk to me again.
"When are you going to.?" I stopped mid sentence. My anger almost let it
slip that I knew she was going to come to the school. I had to keep myself
calm and collected. That was harder than it looked, since I hated her so
much I imagined my hands around her throat. She turned and glanced at me as
she firmly said
"I'll get you when I want to talk with you." At least I got her off my back.
I was happy but at the same time worried. Was my mom strong enough to handle
her? I stayed as they talked because I wanted to hear what the social worker
would ask. I wanted, also, to be prepared so that I could follow my mom's
line of answers. Of course they wouldn't be exact but I wanted to get a
general idea so I could stay on one road, even when I swerved a little.
"I bet you will." I mumbled.
"Excuse my son. He doesn't have many friends." She lied. I had no idea she
knew what my plan was.
"It's quite alright. Besides, I have to get statements from all your kids
anyway." She said with a smug attitude. It looked as if she had won. Barbra
stood there completely rigid, she didn't even move once as the blood hound
sniffed at her emotions. I was worried. Normally it would be the opposite,
with my mom worrying about me letting something slip, but I wish I could get
this bitch alone. I would tear her limb from limb. I would strip her of her
will so fast she wouldn't know what hit her.
"How soon will you do that?" my mom answered doing our usual routine.
"Oh Mrs. Stout, I will do it when I'm good and ready to." She seemed to
tower over my mom as if she were god herself. The bloodhound could obviously
sense that my mom was on edge. My mom was clever, but when it relied on her
emotions to keep a secret she was like an open book with bold face type.
"I believe I have a right to know when you're going to intrude in our lives
and my kid's education." Barbra snapped as fierce as a raging bear.
"Mrs. Stout." she faltered then shot back with "not if your kids are going
to. tell stories." I could sense her smiling all the way from here.
"So you've had a lot of cases then? Since you obviously predicted that my
children, who you have never met by the way, are going to lie." This was a
fierce battle between two damn smart women, and I didn't want to miss not
even one millisecond of it. I moved to a corner of the very cramped living
room so I could get a better view of the two pawns, each fighting for their
own personal king. They both were equally matched, but it was an interesting
thing to see all the same.
"Mrs. Stout, you're correct. I have had tons of experience, but I don't
think I should tell you any of what I used to do."
"Then are you finished here?"
"I still have to check the rest of the house." Barbra stopped dead in her
tracks. Our bloodhound sensed, just as I did, that something was very wrong
with what she said. My mom, as strong willed as she was, was nearly in
check. I then realized why my mom was so on edge about her looking at the
rooms. She hadn't cleaned them as meticulously, or didn't clean them at all.
I had to do something to keep the bitch from going back there. Barbra
couldn't handle her all on her own. I could though. I even wanted to.
"I think I want to look at their bedrooms. I just want to know what they are
interested in." she chirped acting as if she had just found gold in
someone's pants. I knew what she was doing and I didn't like it at all.
Furious, I stepped forward determined to make her leave. I didn't want to be
thrown in some foster care, and have no one there to care about me and guide
me. If we did end up going into foster care, that could be nothing but bad
events and people. It would be like reading the series of unfortunate
events. No matter what we did, it would only make our situation worse. As I
stepped up to her, my brain was kicking into super hyperactive drive.
"Mrs. what the heck did you come here for?" there was a long pause where
both women stared at me.
"I already told you Sir Robert. I'm here to investigate the events that went
on last Friday."
"okay." I cut her off so fast she recoiled, "then you tell me, you go ahead
and tell me what the heck that has to do with our damn rooms?"
"Well," she said with a shocked smirk combined with a little girly titter,
"I have to investigate the scene where it happened, and the-"
"So did it happen in my bedroom? I don't think so."
"Gosh you're very opinionated." She snapped. "You interrupted your mom and
me."
"Mom and I." I shot at her. I felt like being a complete bastard to this
woman. I then suddenly heard a light footstep, then another. I didn't pay
much attention to it, and she paid even less to it than I did, or at least,
she acted as if she didn't even notice it. I couldn't think about my
overactive imagination however. I had to stay glued onto this person. It was
the only way to make her go away. She was used to flitting from people to
people so she couldn't show any weakness, and try to strip someone of the
truth. Her strength lay in numbers. Mine lay in one, and that was she. I had
to think of her, and nothing else...
"Look Robert. It's my duty is to conduct a-"
"Investigation. No duh. You kind of made that real clear. You were supposed
to check out the witness and victims, and not pry in anyone's personal space
and life."
"That's where you're wrong!" she boasted. I knew I was, but I wanted to get
her emotions up so she would miss anything incorrect I said about the home
or, for example, what we usually have for dinner. I wanted her emotions to
drive her head.
"No. I'm right."
"Your not!" she insisted looking at her clipboard. "Interview the people
involved, and checks the area." I had her. She read off exactly what her
directions were, but was she that stupid? On the other hand, was she telling
me a lie to see if I would pounce on it?
"Who wrote that?" she was getting her wits back and that was something I
didn't want to have happen.
"My boss."
"I noticed it didn't say anything about the surrounding areas." I suddenly
sensed that she and I were the only people in the room. I looked around the
space, curious why I didn't see Barbra.
"That's true, but that's just a summery." Of course she wasn't going to tell
me every single order and restriction she was placed under. I had to try to
trap her in a corner.
"That may be, but you, again, don't have the right to come sniffing through
our personal items. That's off limits. You can check the damn scene where
the violence took place, but you got to have a reason to investigate
further."
"Lying is a good enough reason!" she snapped her voice rising a little.
"You have no concrete proof that I have even lied yet!" I shot back just as
quickly. Barbra entered the room again, her blonde hair slightly disheveled.
She was breathing hard. I was about to finish this bitch off when Barbra
opened her mouth and gasped
"Do you still want to look at the rooms?" what was my mom doing? I was
working on getting her to leave and here she was practically giving her
permission to investigate. Was my mom seriously that stupid? I couldn't let
her take up that offer.
"I don't think she has to." I quickly cut in giving Barbra a what the heck
are you doing look. I then knew why my mom was so out of breath. She had
cleaned the rooms enough to where the bloodhound wouldn't notice anything,
but I still didn't want to take that chance. I didn't like chances, and with
her around we sure as hell couldn't afford any.
"oh. You sure Robert?" Barbra asked astonished and pleased.
"yes. Your son is right. I shouldn't go back there, but if I have any reason
to investigate further, Let's say, lying, for example, I will come back, and
with a warrant."
"police can only get warrants." I jumped in yet again. She just shook her
head tired of me. her high voice was beginning to drop in energy and pitch.
I grinned as I listened to her talk. I had won. or so I thought.
"oh Mr. Kingett your quite wrong there." I seriously wished she would shut
up with that nonsense. I knew she could get a warrant if she ever so wished,
but I wanted her to get so excited she would loose her game. Barbra sensed
what I was doing and pounced on her.
"so your assuming then? I kind of thought you weren't supposed to assume.
You know, innocent until proven guilty? I think your discriminating here.
That won't be good if my lawyer hears about it." the bloodhound stopped dead
while staring at me. I gave her a grin. I had to deliver an uppercut, one
she would never expect.
"you know someone else who won't be happy about it? Her supervisor." She
jerked her head slightly as if she wouldn't believe I could make such a
threat.
"you don't know who that is." She boasted.
"oh. I'm sure it's no problem to find out, yah know? it'd be very easy. I
just look online at your company name and there you go. I'm sure there's
only a handful of you who cover the area, so it won't be hard to just look
up your supervisor." She cleared her throat.
"you can't make the call young man."
"no, but I can." My mom piped up standing right in front of her. "we can get
you for harassment, big time. You did what you needed to do, but then
assume, even accuse, without solid proof of lying? I think that's blatant
harassment." The bloodhound sighed heavily. She was being drained of her
will and emotions fast, and she knew it.
"look. Mrs. stout. In my job, you have to assume the worst."
"that's understandable, but you don't have to assume with us. We obviously
have nothing to hide." I lied giving her my best smile. I continued, my grin
getting even bigger.
"and, really now. Does this house look like it's been neglected in any way?
It's spick and span." She hunched a little as she spoke next.
"I can see that." she said thoughtfully taking one more look at the house
looking as if it were neat as a new pin. "I guess I'm done here." I gaped.
What the heck was this, a two second motivation change? Why did she just
abruptly switch gears like that. she did, after all, sound exhausted, as if
I alone had stripped her of all motivation. I was happy with this, because
it meant that she didn't have the energy or will to continue! I did it! My
mom apparently didn't like this sudden change, because she stuttered
"are-are you sure?"
"yes. I'm quite tired, and I have conducted my investigation. Besides, some
people," she said her voice turning to me. "aren't even going to let me go
beyond my call of duty." I guessed her huge round eyes were glaring at me. I
whooped and yipped inside. I was the king, and no one could mess with me!
"oh, and I'm deeply apologetic, but for the most part I do agree with my
son." Barbra lied showing the bloodhound all her acting skills.
"it's okay Mrs. stout. I will interview the individual children within a few
days." She didn't even care what sort of information she gave us. It looked
like she was spoon feeding us the information on purpose but I could also
hear just how tired she was. She wanted out of here, and I didn't blame her.
I would be exhausted as well.
"thank you Mrs. Stout. I will be going now. I'm so sorry if I caused you any
trouble." This was all very weird to me, but I watched as my mom, barely
able to hide the "ha bitch" tone in her voice, shook her hand triumphantly.
"no problem. No problem at all." The bloodhound turned and trudged out of
our house. I watched her get in her car and go, and as I did so, something
was sinking in as quick as a wave. This wouldn't be the last we would see of
the bloodhound, I was sure of that. I sort of wanted her to talk to me one
on one. I knew then that I would definitely get her away, and cause her to
dismiss us. I couldn't wait until she interviewed me at the school. I was
ready for her.
Authors note. I don't know if I should end the Chapter here or not, but
below there will be the rest I want to add, or should I put it some place
else? I would seriously like as many opinions as I can get. I'm not kidding
here folks. It would be a huge help.
After she drove away Barbra and I sat on the couch, exhausted yet happy.
"I'm so proud of you! You drove that bitch away so fast she didn't know What
the fuck hit her!"
"I know. She didn't want to mess with me at all. that was pure awesomeness!"
I loved making up my little words and phrases.
"I know, and who the hell did she think she was? Bitch. Prying into our
lives like that." Barbra and I sat facing each other on the couch our faces
looking just as tired as we felt. Barbra hugged me tightly, and I hugged
right back, resting my hair on her shoulder.
"I'm very proud of you!" She stroked my back as I laid there, wishing to
just fall asleep. I was more exhausted than someone who had just ran a flat
mile.
"thanks. Yeah, what the heck was she thinking trying to do that gay crap." I
said, my eyes nearly closed.
"I don't know. Damn bitch. I'm keeping my kids, remember what I've been
telling you ever since you moved in with me?"
"how could I forget. We're a family! We won't be separated."
"that's damn right! you made sure of that didn't you little man."
"yes I did."
"hey. What do you want for dinner? McDonalds?" I looked up in pure shock.
"really?" she held my gaze.
"yes. I won't drink tonight. We can have a family night. Just you,, me, and
Michael and sissy if they ever get here." Her bright eyes stayed locked on
mine, and I felt so happy I hugged her again.
"are you really going to do it? Call off your friends for the night? You
won't go visit them?" she smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. Was she being
serious this time? was she really being serious? Could I at last, trust her?
"I promise you, no drinking tonight." She kissed the top of my head. She
wavered at my still questioning eyes.
"I know I've said it before and I know that I haven't been true to my word,
but I promise you, tonight I won't even go see them." She found her keys and
went on her way. As I watched her go I had the biggest smile on my face.
Maybe there was a slim chance of her not drinking just for a night. It was
the worst when her friends would come over because that's all she wanted to
do. When they were in a mob they fed off each other. It didn't help that my
mom loved to be the center of attention in her community. her multiple
boyfriends everywhere she went was huge evidence to this. There were other
times like this, and she never kept her promise. That's because one of her
brain dead friends made sure to bring a six pack with them. I had high
hopes, but there was a part in my heart that loudly said
"you better not get your hopes up. She's never going to do what she says.
She never has. why start now?"
"You've got to have a little bit of hope right?" I counterd, arguing with
myself.
"you don't have to have hope. Hope is what makes people unhappy." This was
true, at least in my case anyway. When I wished for something, and it didn't
even happen. I lost all faith in hoping. As I heard the car peel away I
couldn't help but feel sad. It was a good thing I checked out a book at the
library, but still, there was a very, very slim chance. I had stopped
believing Barbra when she would tell me repeatedly that the fights between
her and her boyfriends were going to stop. Ever since 13 years old I stopped
believing my mom, but maybe she was right this once.
"no." I told myself out loud. "she's going to drink tonight. Don't even kid
yourself." now that I had come to that conclusion, I slinked back to my room
feeling as if I was going to faint. I was so exhausted that I plopped on the
bed with a huge thunnk. I couldn't sleep though. today's events kept racing
through my head. They all seemed like a million years ago. Meeting Travis,
the IEP meeting, En-vogue's house, they all seemed like a billion years ago.
As I watched the sun slowly sink in the dark blue sky, I suddenly remembered
that I had math homework. Oh well. Mr. Morse wouldn't care if I didn't turn
it in. I never handed it in anyway, and I really didn't have to do Mrs.
Fonda's English homework because I knew all the vocabulary terms. Tomorrow
morning before the bus arrived, I could do them. I then remembered the book
I had checked out at the library. I started listening to the giver, liking
the plot and the themes. I don't know where I learned about the significance
of plot, character development, and other materials a book should have. I
didn't learn them in English class though, because when Mrs. Fonda was
explaining foreshadowing to the class, I even jumped in with some examples
some very good books used. She was doing "the lottery" and right away I had
caught about three foreshadowing techniques he used. I also pointed out why
this item or person symbolized foreshadowing. She was quite impressed.
I listened to all of the giver that night, subconsciously
criticizing her use of symbolism, metaphor, and flashback. In the beginning
of the story I knew something was off, and it took me a while to figure out
why. I played the beginning chapters again, and noticed something very
strange. The people had no color description. This was fun for me, solving
puzzles in books. Intrigued, and doggedly determined to solve the mystery, I
kept listening.
It wasn't until the chapter where the giver explains to Jonas that
he is seeing color did I get it! I knew it! He was color blind!
The rest of the book was good, better than good. I found only few
pet peeves with the plot and character development, but they were things I
could look over. I hoped Mrs. Fonda was doing this book in class. I thought
the use of literary elements to enhance and propel the story were clever,
and I know Mrs. Fonda would agree with me. my friends didn't understand and
or care about the crap like this I found out about books. I had no one to
seriously criticize the book with. I longed to talk about it with Mrs.
fonda, because I felt like I was on the ball with my analysis. I also felt
like I was the only person in the world who did this sort of thing for fun.
I couldn't wait to discuss this with the class! I put the cassette back in
it's case and just laid still, replaying the story from beginning to end. It
wasn't long before my peace was interrupted. Everyone was home. I could hear
Michael's heavy pounding footsteps stomp through the house. I could tell he
hadn't lost much of that bowling ball stomach. a dirty hand covered my eyes.
"guess who." I sniffed the air. It smelled bad, like body odor.
"Michael."
"no shit dumbass." He snatched his hand away and I was glad. He tapped his
foot as I lay there looking at him.
"so, are you going to get out of my room now?" I silently left our room.
Trinity rushed into my arms, her blonde hair and round cheeks glowing just
like her mood. I hugged her skinny body.
"how are we doing today?" I asked with a smile. Her perfume wafted from a
toss of her glowing blonde hair. Her skinny body was even less built as
mine. She was only 12, and she was near my chest. Her charming young lady
smile told me that there was something for me.
"guess what. we have McDonalds!" she started jumping up and down.
"don't you ever shut the hell up?" Michael's gruff voice shot from our room.
"don't you ever know anything?" sissy snapped back with attitude. :anyway.
Let's go Robert. You coming Michael?"
"no. bring the damn food to me." shrugging. We made our way to the small
falling apart table in the kitchen. The table was very wobbly, so it was a
wonder it looked like it was brand new. I looked around for Barbra.
"um, sissy? Where's Barbra?"
"oh yeah. I like forgot to tell you see, like dire consequences happened.
she like stopped at Jessica's house.
"aw crap."
"yep. guess what? She's like drunker than a monkey. Oh, and mike is his
normal self."
"I can see. Who'd he hit today." I said joking but then she answered
seriously.
"he called someone a derogatory term." She went on sounding like a mother
might. "and he didn't think about the consequences of his actions, so that
like got him in trouble."
"what was the term?"
"nigger."
"ah. Funny. You know, Barbra met a black kid today."
"Uh oh. Who?"
"new kid named Travis."
"bet that transpired like smoothly." She then made a tisk sound with her
mouth. "I feel very sorry for Travis,"
"she kept her cool." I said.
"cool. Totally shocking, but cool."
"and how's your boyfriend? Barbra doesn't know about him does she?"
"nope. Obviously, because if she did we would never hear the end of it. You
know Robert, he likes you. thinks your cool."
"really?"
"uh, duh." But she was grinning at me. "he likes you better than fat Albert
in there."
"well he hates everyone." I said bored with him. I didn't even want to talk
about him.
"so tell me about travis. Is he hot?" I choked on my coke.
"you have a boyfriend."
"I was just kidding."
"and your only 12!" I said exasperated.
"so? I like older men. Past the teenage phase you know? I want to be able to
like, sufficiently trust them."
"I agree, but no. not your type. Don't ask about him again. He's to old for
you"
"damn." She said finishing her food just as I did. Barbra had already come
in, and she was lying on the couch.
"are you two finished in there?"
"yeah." We both said.
"I want to call a family meeting." Sissy and I looked at each other. We all
had to plan, think, and act. We had to rehearse what answers we would give
whatever social worker who would question us. Barbra sat up, the smell of
beer wafting from her like some perfume.
"oh boy!" my sister snapped. "rehearsal time! hadn't had this in about a
month!"
"that's because you weren't fucking here at home," my mom snapped. "where
the hell is Michael?" she yelled for him.
"where you think?" I shot back. After Michael loped into the room, Barbra
looked at all of us in turn.
"first off," she snapped then hic up while laughing. When she was able to
control herself again, she spoke a little louder than normal, as if the
drunken state was making her deaf.
"first off. why the hell weren't you two here?" Michael and sissy both
looked like they were caught murdering someone.
"I dunno." Michael answered.
"come on mom. She didn't want to talk to us yet."
"actually she did. Robert and I took care of her all by ourselves while you
two chicken shits were out having fun!" she stod up, and towering over all
of us, shook as she pointed at all three of us. Her voice bounced out of her
mouth radiating power, but you could tell she was drunk.
"you two were out fucking around, and leaving me to dry!" Michael just
looked at her while sisy retaliated with
"no! you do this to yourself! If you hadn't had J C over here this would
happen!"
"oh shut the fuck up you ungrateful bastard!" Barbra towerd over sissy. "I
want to see us stay together, but you don't care about this family at all!"
she was getting even louder now, and my sister was starting to break down.
"I do care mom! I do care. Why do you think I told the cops what I did that
night?"
"no you don't. you wouldn't care if we were on the streets. I bet you'd like
that, on the streets with all the men in the world." She got real close to
sissies face and shouted in her face, while grabbing fist full of her hair
"you know. the world doesn't revolve around dicks." She yanked sissy to the
side, and was left with a clump of hair in her fist. Sissy started to cry.
"why don't you just grow up! Get rid of J C! that would be the smart thing
to do, but I guess your stupid!" my mom spun around and grabbed her cheek,
making it red. When my sister started crying She started on Michael.
"hey fat ass! While you were at the god damn store stuffing your god damn
face with chips. we were actually saving eavh othe! Do you seriously want to
see me go to jail? God damn Michael. Wyg it I going to amount to? Anything?
You going to be like your dad? Do you even know why the ell I left him? I
left him because he didn't do god damn shit. All he ever did was sell
crack!" after about six more minutes of this, he was finally breaking down
and crying, and she then locked on me.
"and you!" she said jutting a shaking finger at me. "What the fuck? Not
turning in your homework? Schools important idiot! You don't want to be
bagging groceries for the rest of your life do you? Oh, and that social
worker knew What the fuck you were doing, and now she's never going to
leave. The, nice going. Real nice going! I mean, I get it that you hate me,
but come on Robert. Your just trying to cast us on the streets!" I started
to cry, and I didn't even know why. What she had said struck a nerve. I was
feeling guilty again as I always did. She didn't know anything! I loved her
with all my heart. She just didn't like us. She liked her drinking buddies
more than us, and this was the result. She grabbed me by the hair.
"I swear to god Robert. If you hadn't opened your god damn mouth she
wouldn't even be coming back at all!"
"hey I saved your ass from getting a piss test again!"
"no you didn't stupid. You didn't. now she's going to demand one all because
you had to open your mouth." She slapped me but I didn't even feel it.
"all of you get the hell out of here! You all can die for all I care! I
honestly don't even want to see you anymore." She then started yelling
incoherently, and even tossing a few things at us, but other than that it
was the usual. My sister and I raced into her rom, leaving Michael to fend
for himself. After everything called down, sissy and I talked on her bed.
"I hate her! Oh my god I hate her so much I wish she were dead!" my sister
sobbed, her fists balled up. "what a bitch." Her hair was wirey, and her
face had a huge welt where the blow was dealt.
"your face is red too." She said looking at me. I touched my cheek to
discover that it had a scratch on it. I was just as angry as sissy was.
"see, now we're going to have to make a new god damn lie to cover these up."
I snapped. "god what a fucking idiot. I hope she gets cirrhosis and dies.
Screw her."
"I feel the same. Fuck her." She flopped on her bed, the sound of her
sobbing blending with her hateful words.
"oh yeah mom. I have a black boyfriend, and you know what? He treats me
better than you do! God damn, I'm tempted to tell the truth when that worker
comes. You?"
"yeah. I am." I stood up and kicked the wall.
"stop It!" my mom screamed so loud her voice cracked.
"oh just go to hell." Sissy and I said simultaneously. After a while, we
heard her stumble into her room, laughing about us, and how we will be the
ones causing her to eventually land in jail.
"hell can't be worse than this." I said touching my bruised and scratched
cheek.
"I hear you. all them other girls at my school don't even have a clue."
"does Jamaal know?"
"you seriously think I would tell him?" she snapped. We sat in silence. I
thought about the days events and how she switched from being so proud of
me, to hating me and damning me to hel. At least she gave us a treat
tonight, but I knew she was going to do this. I knew it Al along. My face
burning, I crawled on the floor.
"toss me another pillow would you?"
"mmh." A pillow landed at my feet, and I fell asleep next to sissy. At least
J C wasn't here, because if he was we would be on the streets because god
damn Barbra would think he wouldn't let her come in the house.
With nothing else to do I played back the whole day. I didn't care that I
didn't do my math. School was so unimportant in my life. While all the
teachers had fancy degrees, a good income, and a happy healthy happy home to
be in, I had to worry about food, the bills, my safety. I didn't care that I
didn't hand in some stupid math assignment, I didn't care at all. why should
i? they didn't deserve anything out of me. I slammed into sleep, still
pissed at the world.
Crying eased it's way into my brain. I looked over at sissy to see if she
was crying, but she wasn't. as if in some weird dream state I stood up and
automatically went to the kitchen where the crying was coming from. I could
see someone huddled on the floor. I also heard the crying from that area. A
sighted person could have known who it was. I didn't, so I had to guess. I
walked over to the general area where the light switch was and flicked it. A
very dim bulb turned on, but I could adjust my eye to the dimness. I knelt
down beside the sobbing figure and touched her. I knew instantly who it was
just because of the strong body build. It was Barbra.
"go away." She said softly. I didn't want to. On the one hand, I wanted to
laugh, and say go ahead and cry. On the other hand, this was my mom, my soul
source of survival and life. I couldn't see her like this.
"no." I sat beside her, and her head rose, tears splotching her face.
"go away Robert."
"no."
"why not?"
"why are you crying?"
"why the hell do you care?" she did have a point. I didn't very much care,
but still something in me hated seeing her on the floor like this. In my
eyes, she was always powerful. Evil, mean, or not, either way she was the
strong one. This was so weird to me I couldn't leave.
"I don't like seeing you like this. Look. You've had a hard day, but that's
no excuse to come home being an ass." She was racked with sobs again. I was
sort of glad.
"I know. I'm sorry"
"are you? Are you really?" I asked, my gaze hard. I don't know if she saw
me.
"yes. I'm sorry." She said tears splashing my hand on the floor. "I just
drink because. because." she faltered, and didn't finish her sentence.
"no excuse." I firmly said.
"I know, but if you kids would help me out a little we wouldn't be in this
god damn shit whole.
"us help you out? Where are you a when we're hungry? Where the hell are you
when we need homework help?" she didn't answer me, just as I knew she
couldn't. she didn't know how.
"look. I'm sorry, and I know you hate me," my blood boyald.
"I don't hate you.. I just don't like you"
"go fucking figure."
"can you blame me?" she started sobbing again.
"you really don't know how hard I try. None of you help me at all. none of
you do. I have to do everything by myself, with no fucking child support!"
"you don't get rid of the people who come here Barbra, on school nights when
we have priorities. You wonder why I don't turn my homework."
"you don't clean your room!" she snapped at me. I guess that was true. She
was dead on the mark. How did she do it? For someone who was so out of it
she sure was observant.
"I know Barbra. I'm sorry." She smiled at me. "but I won't forgive you for
tonight. You don't deserve it." She sobbed yet again and lunged towards me.
she cried on my shoulder.
"look. I'm sorry. What do you want from me? I'm sorry okay. I can't help
it." She could help it! What the heck was she thinking! She could go to
rehab and get her life straightened out, but she didn't want to. She didn't
want to get help. She loved partying to much. I hated it.
"yeah. Sure."
"look Robert. I'm sorry about the IEP room, and about that little nigger
boy."
"his name is Travis!" I yelled at her. She gave me a small smile.
"okay. Travis. I'm sorry about the social worker too." She touched my cheek
while crying again, her bony fingers softly holding my shaking jaw.
"I know you won't forgive me, but do you love me?" she pleaded with her
eyes, and as she rested on my shoulder, me holding her and stroking her hair
lightly with my shaking hand. My heart ripped inside.
"she honestly is trying." My brain said.
"don't even start." I argued with myself. "you're an idiot. She's not
trying. This is just like all the other times." But that's where I was
wrong. The previous times she asked for my forgiveness, and now, she wasn't
doing that. She was asking if I loved her. Way deep down in my heart, I
guess I did. I didn't like her that was for sure, and she was right about me
never forgiving her. I stopped forgiving her when I was 13. I didn't like
her in the slightest, but that wasn't what she was asking me. could I tell
her what I thought? Snot leaked onto my shirt, and as I slowly rocked her
back and forth, I whispered in her ear, for once not feeling like I was
telling a lie.
"I love you mom."
