Tuesday, August 4, 2015


It was meatloaf night. I remember it was meatloaf night. I hate meatloaf. It tastes like warm clay and dirt. We sat in  the kitchen. the little portable TV was on. It's a real old TV... No flatscreen. They hooked it up to some kind of a little electric box so it would work. I hate that TV. It's like a Russia TV. I bet they have TV's like that in Russia... in Russia and our kitchen. 

I don't say anything. I just eat. I eat my corn and mashed potatoes. The mashed potatoes tasted like paste. I even stop picking at the meatloaf. It tastes like Ester's dead body. I hope she's in Heaven... I really do. My heart is pounding. My sister wants to go to Target. She wants my mom to take her to Target because they got a sale on blue jeans. My dad won't take her. He watches sports at night... any kind of sports. He sits in the livingroom where the big real TV is. He don't talk to nobody... just whoops and yells and curses at the TV.


A lady who smiles and rolls her eyes all the time stops doing that. Her face gets real still and plain, like she's gonna say something sad or religious. I don't even move. I stare at the place on the wall where daddy threw the soup. My mom cleaned it off, but it was tomato and you can still see a little bit of the red. The TV lady says - A child's body was discovered down a desolate back driveway on 'Factory Road...'

It's not really named Factory Road, but everybody calls it that 'cause of all the factories that used to be there. I don't know where the factories went. I don't care. The TV lady says more stuff, but I don't hear her. I hear my dad say - Jesus Christ! Turn that up!... My mom reaches over and turns it up. My sister just sits there waiting to see if she's gonna get taken to Target or not. I turn to stone. I wish I was dead. ..... My mommy goes - Oh my God! Ester, she said Ester! I know that girl! Her mother's a checker at ShopRite. She goes to school with Timmy. (then she looks at me) Tim, was she at school today?... I just shrug. My mom looks sad. But I just shrug... My dad watches, but he keeps on eating.... The TV lady keeps talking. They show people holding candles down the cracked up back driveway or alley or whatever it is. Mom sucks her teeth the way ladies do when something is 'a shame.' People put teddy bears and I think a stuffed dog and rabbit where Ester was. I just sit there.


I tremble inside. My dad gets up to see who it is. He's in charge of who gets in and who gets out. My sister quietly sneaks upstairs. My mom stands behind dad. I hear Patsy. She lives across the street. She says - Yeh hear?... Mom nods. They cry a little. Patsy says - We're all gone over to Donna's.... Donna is Ester's mom. It's just the two of them.... she says - You want me to wait and walk over with yeh?.... Mom says - No, that's alright. Lemme clean up .... But Patsy looks like she wants to say something, so my mom yells for my sister to come down and clean up. She knows this is serious, so she does. Mom turns around and says - I'm gone over with Patsy, OK?.... Dad nods. Then he sits on the sofa, but he doesn't watch no sports on TV. He just sits. My sister washes up. She don't pay no attention to me. She never does. Tells me I'm a weird, little, autistic bastid. But I'm not autistic. I just got nothing to say to her. Maybe I am autistic? I don't know.

I'm still sittin' there, in the kitchen, I mean. I want to go out side and get run over by a car, or like a big pick-up truck. I can feel the tires squish my body and press out all the blood. I wish it would happen, but I can't move. The faded, red soup stain on the wall looks like Ester, from when she was all curled up. God, I don't want to get caught.

Ca-Ca must have heard about it too. I wish I knew what she did. I wish I knew what she said. 

My dad yelled - What the hell are you doin' in there?..... I said - Nothing..... Five minutes later he falls asleep. I know, 'cause I hear him snoring.... fartin' too. I hold my ears, because it reminds me of Ester and all. Then I get up, sneak passed him and go upstairs. I'm real careful not to make any noise. I sneak around here a lot, so I can do that.... 

Even though it's only like seven thirty, it's real dark already, 'cause it's November. I get under the covers and turn out the little ship's wheel lamp. If I have to pee, I'll do it in my money jar, 'cause I can pour the coins into a shoe. My door's locked. I'm safe.

I hope it stays night forever....


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1 comment:

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