I slowly opened my eyes at the sound of a ghostly electric bass. Soon, a scratchy guitar joined in an echoing accompaniment, bolstered by thunderous drums. When the guitar shifted to a banshee scream, I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes. I had been laying in my bed and listening to Nirvana\u2019s Nevermind for the millionth time. I fell asleep during \u201cSomething In the Way\u201d and was woken up by the hidden track that follows it. I yawned and stretched while Kurt Cobain screeched unintelligibly.<\/p>\n
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stood, and walked to my bookshelf. I reached down to the shelf that held my CD player boom box and pressed my finger to the \u201cstop\u201d button. Cobain\u2019s nonsensical yelling halted suddenly. I stood up straight and stretched my arms above my head. I inhaled a deep breath which made me a little dizzy. I put a hand on the bookshelf to steady myself. My stomach grumbled loudly. I realized I had not eaten anything since Trevor gave me the tater tots at lunch. I glanced at my hand\u00a0to\u00a0where it had landed on the bookshelf and saw that my fingers had fallen on the black leather spine of large book.<\/p>\n
I pulled the book off of the shelf and held it in my hands. The black leather cover was embossed with the title in shiny, gold text:William Shakespeare The Complete Works. Trevor found the book in a used bookstore in Spokane and gave it to me for Christmas. I opened the cover and looked at the words scrawled in black ink on the title page.<\/p>\n
\u201cI remember we saw this in a Fur Trap shop window. You told me that the idea of one book containing everything written by Shakespeare was like holding an entire world in your hands. You mean the world to me, so here you go. Merry Christmas! Your friend, Trevor Kinsey.\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt another gurgling complaint from my stomach and closed the book. I ran my fingers over the smooth, black leather and returned the book to its shelf. I turned and made my way to the door.<\/p>\n
As I passed my full-length mirror, I glanced at my reflection and saw myself out of the corner of my eye. I gave my image a disdainful look and grabbed a gray hoodie off the back of my desk chair. I\u00a0pulled the sweatshirt \u00a0over my head and opened my bedroom door.<\/p>\n
I was hit in the face by the smells from my mother\u2019s kitchen and the sound of my father\u2019s television. I stood at the sop of the stairs and finished pulling my sweatshirt down. Still groggy from my short nap, I walked carefully down the stairs.<\/p>\n
The staircase came down into the living room, which was awash in the sound of loud engines. My father sat in an easy chair, facing the television. The light from a floor lamp reflected off the top of his head, which had almost no hair anymore. From where I stood at the bottom of the stairs I could only see pieces of him: the shiny cap of his bald head, his feet on the recliner\u2019s foot rest, and his hands on the arm rests. His right hand held a remote control and his left hand held a can of Coors Light. I carefully sneaked past the back of my father\u2019s easy chair and crossed the living room. Just past the front door was the kitchen and dining room.<\/p>\n
I walked up to the family table and quietly pulled out a chair that faced the kitchen. I sat down and watched my mother. She was peering into the glass window of the oven door. She tapped her foot impatiently and stood up to take one more look at the timer next to the knobs that controlled the temperature of the oven and range.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe timer says it should stay in there for another five minutes,\u201d my mother said to herself with her hands on her hips. \u201cBut it looks done to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt smells done,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
My mother gasped and turned to look at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus, Nicole. You scared the crap out of me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry mom,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long have you been sitting there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJust a couple minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood, I was just about to call for you to set the table.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother put oven mitts on both hands, opened the oven, and pulled a glass baking dish off of the middle rack. She set the dish on a couple of pot holders that had been strategically placed on the counter next to the range. A small pot sat over a gas jet set to low and steam gently leaked from under the lid. My mother shut the oven and turned it off. She then looked at me and raised her eyebrows.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d my mother said. \u201cAre you going to set the table or not?\u201d<\/p>\n
I slid my chair back and stood up. I walked to the kitchen and opened the silverware drawer. I grabbed three knives, forks, and spoons and put them in my left hand. I walked back to the table and put one of each item in front of the chairs we used when there wasn\u2019t any company. Dad\u2019s chair faced the living room so he could still see the television. My mother\u2019s chair was next and my chair was at the other end so I didn\u2019t block my father\u2019s view. I walked back into the kitchen, grabbed three clean dinner plates and two glasses from the cupboard. I\u00a0placed the plates on the counter by the glass dish and set the drinking glasses next to the silverware belonging to my mother and me.<\/p>\n
\u201cPerfect,\u201d my mother said. \u201cWill you go tell your father that dinner is ready?\u201d<\/p>\n
I pursed my lips and let my head fall to my chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d I said and trudged to the living room.<\/p>\n
I walked up to my father\u2019s recliner and noticed that he was sound asleep. His head was tipped back, his mouth forced open by the tilt of his neck. His breath came in and out of his open mouth with a gasping sound and carried with it the smell of cheap beer and smoker\u2019s breath. I tapped his right forearm gently with my index finger. His fingers twitched a little on the rubber buttons of the TV remote. I put my hand on his forearm and shook it a little.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad, dinner is ready,\u201d I said softly.<\/p>\n
My dad sat up quickly and lifted the remote like he was going to use it as a bludgeon. Amazingly, he avoided spilling his beer.<\/p>\n
\u201cDinner? What time is it,\u201d My father asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cSix thirty,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHmm, the race is almost over. Last one before Talladega.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMom asked me to come get you for dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
My father lifted his left arm and gently shook his beer can. The little bit of beer left in the bottom of the can sloshed quietly. He lifted the can to his mouth, tipped his head back, and drained the can. He handed the empty can to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cCould you put a cold one of these on the table for me? I\u2019ll be right there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSure,\u201d I said and returned to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
I walked up to the trash can and dropped the silver beer can into the garbage.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh honey,\u201d My mom said behind me. \u201cWe\u2019ve started recycling those, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n
I rolled my eyes and retrieved the can from the pile of garbage it landed in.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust put it in the sink next to the others.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked to the sink and saw two \u201cSilver Bullet\u201d cans and two cans that used to contain corn. I placed the can next to the other four and went to the fridge. I grabbed a jug of milk, a can of beer, and a bottle of ketchup. I shut the door and returned to the kitchen table. I set the beer can down at my father\u2019s place setting and started pulling out my chair when my mom approached carrying two plates of food. She set one down for my father and the other down for me.<\/p>\n
I looked at my plate and was at first disappointed with the slices of meat loaf and the pile of corn. I\u00a0sniffed the air above my plate and the scent literally made my mouth water. My empty stomach gurgled loud enough for my mom to hear and I was suddenly very hungry. I shoveled corn into my mouth and barely noticed my dad as he pulled his chair out and sat down.<\/p>\n
\u201cSlow down, for crying out loud,\u201d my father said as he cracked open his beer. \u201cYou\u2019re going to choke or something.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat up and exaggeratedly chewed my bite of food.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s better, smartass.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mom came to the table, set her plate down, and took her seat.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s the meatloaf,\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
I realized I had not tried any meatloaf. I cut a slice in half, put one of the halves in my mouth, and closed my eyes while I chewed. The meat was juicy and I could taste the onion soup mix my mom always used.<\/p>\n
\u201cDelicious,\u201d I said around my mouthful of meatloaf.<\/p>\n
In the time it took my parents to begin eating, I had finished can my plate. I picked up the milk and poured myself a glass. I put the glass to my mouth and drank it down. I put the glass down on the table and caught my breath.<\/p>\n
\u201cMay I have seconds,\u201d I asked my mom.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure honey, you must be really hungry. I didn\u2019t think you even liked meatloaf.\u201d<\/p>\n
I got up from the table, grabbed my plate, and started for the counter when my dad cleared his throat. I turned and looked at him quizzically.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure that\u2019s such a good idea,\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I sure what is a good idea?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you sure you should have seconds? I mean, you should maybe start watching what you eat.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened my mouth to reply but my mother spoke first.<\/p>\n
\u201cTim, I hardly think she needs to worry about having a little more meatloaf.\u201d<\/p>\n
My father sat back and took another drink of his beer before speaking.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s right about the age when you started getting fat, Louanne.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother looked hurt for a second, then sighed and stood up from the table. Her expression morphed from pain to the blank look of a lobotomy patient. She picked up her plate of half-eaten food and carried it to the garbage can. I stared at my father in disbelief while my mother scraped her uneaten food into the trash.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was a shitty thing to say,\u201d I said to my father. \u201dIf she was putting on weight her senior year of high school, it was probably because you knocked her up!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t use that language with me, missy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat, you can call me and mom fat but I can\u2019t use the word shit?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said it again, do you need me to ground you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo ahead and ground me, I don\u2019t give a shit,\u201d I said through clenched teeth.<\/p>\n
I walked to the counter, grabbed a slice of meatloaf in my hand, and took a big bite.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t get to talk that way to me and deliberately disobey me in my house. This is my house and that is my food!\u201d<\/p>\n
I glared at my father and was about to hurl more angry words at him when I heard a soft noise. I looked to my right to see my mother standing in the corner of the kitchen. She was softly crying and tears ran down her cheek to fall on the laminate counter top.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She shook her head. She wouldn’t look at me. I looked back at my father. He glowered at me, the muscles on the side of his jaw squirmed while he ground his teeth.<\/p>\n
I put the rest of the meatloaf from my hand into my mouth, opened the back door, and stepped out into the cool October air.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t leave, you\u2019re grounded,\u201d yelled my father from his seat.<\/p>\n
I slammed the back door before he could say anything else. The back door led to our back yard. A rusty old swing set took up one corner and an\u00a0unattached garage took up the other. There was a space between the side of the house and the fence that divided our property from the Kinseys’. I stomped through the weeds that grew in that space and walked out into our front yard. The air was chilly but I was too angry to feel it. From behind me came the sounds of the television at full volume. I didn’t need to turn around and look to know that my father was back in his easy chair and my mother was probably doing the dishes.<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath and blew a cloud of water vapor into the air. I looked over to Trevor\u2019s house and saw that his car was still gone. I knew he should be coming home from practice any minute. I walked out to the sidewalk that ran the length of our street, turned left, and walked over to the driveway. I walked across the drive, up the two steps to the porch, and across to the two-person swing that hung in front of the kitchen window.<\/p>\n
I sat down on the swing and reflexively reached for the headphones that were usually around my neck. I was disappointed to find I had left my Walkman in my room. My anger was fading and the cool air started to get to me. I pulled my hood up over my head and pulled the sleeves down over my hands. I brought my knees to my chest and locked my arms around them. The swing began to smoothly rock back in forth in the breeze. I sat and listened to the sounds of our neighborhood and waited for Trevor to get home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I slowly opened my eyes at the sound of a ghostly electric bass. Soon, a scratchy guitar joined in an echoing accompaniment, bolstered by thunderous drums. When the guitar shifted to a banshee scream, I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes. I had been laying in my bed and listening to Nirvana\u2019s … <\/p>\n