“Mom, where’s the milk?”
“No milk today. You drank the last of it yesterday. Do you expect it to magically appear here, and for free?”
“What am I going to put on my cereal then?”
Stale refrigerator air rolled over the boy. Rice crispies overflowed from the bowl in his hand and escaped to the floor. He slammed the door shut and walked to the sink where more rice crispies escaped as water ran into the bowl. He brought a spoonful to his mouth, and another.
“Yuck!” he whispered.
He ate a few more spoonfuls and tossed the bowl into the sink.
“Jimmy Carter wrote me back, Johnny. He’s going to take us to live with him soon. He loves me.” She smiled and showed him the letter.
The boy took the letter. “It just says he thanks you for your support, mom.”
“No, no, he loves me. He’s going to divorce his wife. It says it right there. And when we get married you’ll have to decide if you want to live with us in the White House, or go live with your dad and his new wife in Philadelphia.”
Johnny plodded into the living room and plopped himself on the couch. “Mom! The TV is broken, I only get static except for channel 4.”
“We don’t have cable anymore, honey.”
Johnny sighed and slumped into the couch. “Does dad have cable?”
“I don’t know honey. We’ll get all the channels in the White House though.”
—
Mother and son walked down Main street to the tune of a light spring breeze slamming shop doors closed.
“Mom, let’s see a movie.”
“You can, go ahead, but I can’t afford more than one ticket.”
“But, mom, it’s no fun by myself. Come on.” The boy pulled her by the arm towards the movie theater.
“I only have $9 to last until your father’s alimony check comes in the mail. I can pay for one ticket, but not two.”
“When does dad’s check come?”
“It should arrive tomorrow. But he hasn’t sent one for the last two months.”
“Really?”
The mother was silent.
“That money is for me, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I should have that money, so I should get the next check and I should decide how to spend it.”
The mother was silent.
The boy stomped his feet and walked on down Main street with his mother a step behind. He stopped in front of Woolworth’s.
“Let’s go in and have a cheeseburger. It’s costs less than a movie.”
“You can go in and eat, but I can’t afford more than one. And please don’t put your face against the window honey.”
The boy was silent.
“Go ahead in, here’s two dollars.”
“No! Come on, you have to eat lunch too.”
“I’m ok, honey, you go ahead in and eat your cheeseburger.”
“No!” The boy continued down Main street.
—
“Honey, there’s a package here for you. Come on and get out of bed.”
“No there isn’t.”
“It’s from your dad.”
The boy stood up quickly and walked into the kitchen. “There’s no pack … ! Wow, it’s so big! What is it?”
“I don’t know honey.”
“What’s for breakfast? I am really hungry.”
“You know, cereal.”
The boy sighed and ripped the brown paper wrapping from the package. “It’s helicopters and parachutes! It’s that game I wanted!”
The boy ran to his room with the package and closed the door.
—
“Mom, look, that girl I told you I liked, Noel, invited me to her birthday party! Can you take me?”
“Where’s the party honey?”
“She lives at … 146 Pine Valley Terrace. Can you take me?”
“Honey, that’s outside town. There’s no way to get there.”
“Can’t we take a bus? Or borrow a car?”
“No honey, no buses go out that far.”
“Maybe Grandpa can take me.”
“No! And don’t suggest that again!”
“The party’s tomorrow. What are we going to do!”
“I don’t know, honey.”
The boy jumped with his hands at his sides. “Dad has a car. Dad would take me.”
The mother was silent.
“I hate you! I wish you were dead so I could go live with dad!”
—
The boy woke up. His glow-in-the-dark clock stared at him. “Another episode of midnight screaming,” he said to himself. “Mom’ll be fine again tomorrow.” He pulled the covers over his head, curled up and went back to sleep.
The boy woke up to a tapping on the back. “Who are you?”
“We took your mom to the hospital. A neighbor complained of loud noises. We called your grandparents, they’ll be here shortly.”
“Is she going to be ok?”
“You should get dressed so you can go to the hospital.” The paramedic walked out and closed the door behind him.
The boy’s grandfather walked softly in and shut the door behind him.
“Johnny, what happened?”
“I don’t know. I heard mom crying last night so it’s just another episode I guess.”
—
In the emergency room, the boy changed position in his seat quickly. “Is there anything to eat, grandpa?”
The grandfather watched the emergency room door intently.
“Grandpa! When are we going to eat? This is just another episode, she’ll be fine.”
“Quiet!” hissed his grandmother.
A woman dressed in white motioned them into a small room. “This lady is going to take care of this.”
A woman sat at a desk shuffling papers. The three sat down, cigarette smoke wafting across them.
“Would you please put out your cigarette?” Johnny asked. “I’m allergic.”
The woman snickered, took a deep puff and exhaled over their heads. “I’m Ms. Reynolds, Johnny’s social worker. The boy’s mother has passed on. There was nothing we could do.” She shuffled more papers and looked up.
“Is this her son? Does he understand?”
The boy nodded.
“Does he understand?”
“Yes, of course I understand. My mom is dead.”
She tossed a paper in the direction of the grandfather. “You’ll need to sign that.”
“Can we see her?” the grandfather asked, trembling.
“In a few minutes. We need to speak about the disposition of the boy. I’ve decided he’ll go into foster care.”
“But, my dad will take me!”
“I didn’t allow it before, I’m not about to start now.”
“My mom said I could decide!”
The woman laughed and exhaled more smoke.
The grandfather spoke up. “We’re going to take care of him until we make a family decision. You have no business in this. And I am going to see my daughter now.”
—
Johnny ran into the first bathroom stall and locked the door behind him. He pulled out his pocket knife, opened the blade and held it pointing against his chest. He cried. “Nobody loves me.”
The grandfather walked into the bathroom. “Johnny, are you in here? … Johnny?”
“I’m in here.”
“Are you okay? Need any help?”
“I don’t want foster care! I want to live with my dad, or with you.”
“Don’t worry little buddy. I won’t let that happen. We’re your family, not this damned, snide woman. Come on out.”
“I’d rather die than be a foster kid.”
The grandfather smiled and ruffled Johnny’s hair. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Grandpa, last night I told mom I hated her and wished she were dead. Do you think … ?”
“Your mom got ignored and messed up by a whole lot of people Johnny. This is not your fault. Don’t you forget that.”
—
A police officer stopped the three at the hospital front door. “Sir, the boy has been remanded into the custody of Child Protective Services. I’m afraid you can not leave with him.”
“Oh, yes we can, and we will! I am his grandfather. My wife and I are his only family now.”
The social worker appeared behind them. “Mr. Canazio, I’ve decided you and your wife are too old to properly care for Johnny. He’ll be in my custody until we assign him a foster home. You can visit him once a week but you are not qualified to be the primary care provider.”
“But my dad will take me! He’s my dad, I should be living with him! Why can’t I just live with my dad. He said he wants me.”
“Because I said so kid.”
“I hate you! I wish you were dead!”
The social worker lit up a cigarette, laughing. “Grab the kid.”
The police officer led Johnny by the arm to a waiting patrol car and drove off as the grandparents watched.
—
“Hi Johnny, I’m your new social worker.” The young blonde lady smiled. “Did they take good care of you here?”
“What happened to the old one?”
“Oh don’t worry about that. The important thing is that we’ve decided you’re going to live with your dad. That’s what you want right?”
“Really? When can I see him?”
“He’s right outside Johnny. Go pack your stuff and you can go with him right now! How does that sound?”
“Really?”
“See for yourself, kiddo. He’s out on the curb.”
The boy ran outside and hit his father head-on with a crushing hug.
—
“Johnny!” His father yelled for him from the basement.
Johnny came running. “Yes, dad?”
“Pour me another beer.”
Johnny came back with the beer. “Need anything else, dad?”
“Elise tells me you’re responsible for all these muddy footprints in the new carpet. Is that right?”
Johnny looked down at the footprints. “I don’t know. I guess so.”
“You don’t know or you guess so, which is it?”
“Sorry dad, I didn’t know I was doing it.”
“Turn around and put your arms against the wall.”
“Why?”
“Do it now or you’re getting double.”
Johnny put his hands against the wall. The father pulled his belt out of his jeans, folded it in half and leaned back.
He hit Johnny’s buttocks with the belt.
“Ow! Why? It’s just mud. I’ll clean it up.”
“You’re getting another one for talking back.”
The father leaned back further and hit him again.
Johnny was crying, speechless.
“Now you’ll think twice before doing that again.”
The father walked up the stairs. “You stay down here tonight and think about what you have done.”
Johnny whisper-screamed through his tears. “I hate you! I wish you were dead.”
Johnny heard a loud bump, glass breaking and a woman screaming. And he smiled.
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