Rolling My Eyes

There just wasn't any reason to hold him longer, so Tommy was released from the jail two days short from the end of October. The skies threatened rain, but the sun, a bright orb, was up for the battle against the steely grey. Tommy was waiting outside of the gates smoking the cigarette the lady guard, Bonnie, had palmed him on his way out. 'Fuck, kid, calm down. Most kids are excited to be leaving here.' She shook her head at him. Poor fucking kid. Tommy didn't really want to leave the jail. He liked it there. At least better than home. In jail, he had food every day and his body felt good. There was lots of time to think in jail and that was good too. He wanted a different future, one that didn't include Momma. "Thanks for coming to get me, Momma", he still said, When she pulled herself out of the backseat of the taxi. She fussed with her hair; a brighter blonde than he had seen on her before. "What a bunch of bastards, Tommy," she decla...

She doesn't know what to do. She doesn't expect this at all. She wants to cry out, instead she chokes on the heart in her throat. The very worst and the best in her life have always happened together. She remembers it all. The fear. The anxiety. Wanting to vomit from something she could not yet describe, and from the snot. And then there is Johnny at her window. He would have been 13 years old then, and she had to have been just turning four, her birthday in late spring and she is wearing her Tuesday panties and she is warm; she remembers her hair slicked to her forehead. Sweat. Or maybe it is more blood. God is punishing her for being disrepectful to thou parents. Because she dropped her glass and broke it. Because she told her mother what to do. 'Stop yelling at me!'. And as she cried, she wondered why Mother was not going to bed right now too. And she knows god wants you to cause no one harm. And Samatha's mother had throw the butterknife at her and t...

Sitting in the back of the car, Tommy was sad Barbara would not allow him to get a dog. He had wanted one so bad. For so many years. The world rolled by fast, as Dave drove down country back roads and the fields of corn sure were boring for Tommy. So he asked, "Why are all of us dressed in white?" "It's Sunday; it’s God's Day. White represents the cleanliness that He wants us to live our lives with." "Oh," said Tommy. "And white clothes also keep us cool on terrible days such as today," she continued, and then to her husband, Dave, "If we put the top up, we can put on the air." Dave laughed and reached over to pat her leg, but otherwise, ignored her. "What does the color green mean, Barbara?" Tommy had picked his nose and was looking at a booger. It was too hot in the church, so some of the boys had brought the long wooden pews outside and set them up along the side of the church. Most churches Tommy had been to we...

Sissy threw her cereal around the kitchen from her highchair. Milk and Cheerios hitting the kitchen cabinets, before sliding to the floor. "I want a cookie, Tommy, I want a cookie," she wailed over and over again. But Tommy was late and he did not answer her. Instead, he wheeled the highchair into the living room and flipped on the television; finding a cartoon. "Let Momma sleep awhile," he warned his little sister. Momma was still asleep on the couch. "O-tay, Tommy," she replied, and Tommy reached over and took the two-dollar bill that was on the coffee table, and he ran out the front door and to school. The big green doors of the school were pretty big compared to Tommy. He looked up at them and then down to himself reflected in the dark glass. Maybe I won't go to school today. Tommy had thought this before. Sometimes as a daydreams and sometimes as bed dreams and sometimes at times like these. Tommy hated walking into class late. Everybody sta...

She lay stretched on the couch, two pillows to prop up her feet, for three days. She never changed her clothes. Just wore her blue jeans and a pink t-shirt. Her bare feet and a pale face. She never seemed to move; except her mouth. "If you are hungry, make sandwiches for you and your sister." Tommy would ask her if she were sick and she would say things were fine. Everything is alright. But at night Tommy could not sleep because he heard her crying. "Goddamn you, Chet, Goddamn you..." The sunlight bursting through the leaves prevented Tommy from looking up. It was just as well, looking up only reminded him that he could not climb a tree. Instead, sitting on his shadowed hillside perch,straight in his line of vision, Tommy saw some of the other recess children who were with joined hands, holding up those who ran away from the blacktop with their arms. Tommy ran home from school. He did not walk with Mirko. He figured Sissy would likely be starving by now, just...

Tommy walked along the dark side of the apartment building. He knew he could get in through the back door, but going back up to the seventh floor again just scared the shit out of him. He had tried to rob the 7-11 three times for milk. But he just couldn't do it. Now instead, Tommy was on his way to the apartment building's dumpster. Tommy wanted to kick at the dirt and the broken beer bottle glass that littered the weeds under foot, but he did not. Tommy wanted to cry too, but he did not do that either. It was getting too late for him to be making sounds. He knew someone would likely hear him and then back to Yolanda's he would have to go. And the sounds of the night surrounding him were loud enough, anyway, with the televisions and their broken-up voices and the mixing of music coming from bedrooms. Loud were the whirl of the fans that made Tommy notice even more the dead air, that hung humid to his skin. The crickets were calling for rain, cars were chugging and sq...

Sissy was wearing her blue hat and mittens and her red rubber boots. She was going to the store with Momma and Tommy. "I want some gum." Tommy said to his mother. And Sissy wanted gum, too. The park was on the way to the store. When they were close, Momma said they could play there for a little bit. Sissy went up and down the slide and laughed. Tommy sat in a swing and kicked dirt. Momma smoked a cigarette, in the shade. Jackie was driving down the road and Sissy saw the red car first. Jackie pulled over and said, "Let's go for ice cream." The kids climbed into the back seat and Jackie put the top down. She turned to Sissy and said, "I like your red boots." "Yeah, Jackie," answered Sissy. At the ice cream parlor, Jackie held her up and read to her the kinds of cone she could have. "Chocolate..Vanilla..Tiger Stripe..Bubble Gum..P--" And Sissy remembered she wanted gum, too. Momma said okay, they would go over to Jackie's hous...

Everyday, at Dave and Barbara's house, Tommy woke-up to the sound of the alarm clock going off at 6:15. It was way earlier in the morning than Momma had ever made him get-up. Tommy would wonder why the birds seemed so happy, when all he wanted to do was bury his head back under the covers. Which he often did. And then Tommy would get up to go pee and then play with the trains or pick his nose or do any other variety of little boy things--even sometimes doing his homework from the day before, just to prolong going down the stairs. Everyday, after Tommy had wasted as much time as he possibly could, he would put on the school clothes, left out the night before by Barbara. And everyday when Tommy came downstairs, Barbara would tell him to take a bath. In her high, clipped voice and while casting a disapproving stare down at him, she would say, "Go take a bath, Tommy." And Tommy hated baths. In general, Tommy just hated bathrooms. Everyday trudging out of the kitchen anyway...

for amber harper 3:36 pm Tommy practically ran all the way. And he practically ran fast the entire time, too. His blue shirt flapped loudly in the wind and his sneakers slapped louder yet on the sidewalks and the roads that led him home. And Tommy was excited; his smile was huge. He still wore his shiney face, when he ran through the front doors of his house. "Momma! Momma! I got 2 A's on my report card, Momma!" And at first, Tommy did not notice that there was not anyone home to notice him. But he caught on, after he took his shoes off, when he did not hear Momma answer him; even from her bedroom. He threw his report card; in its brown envelope, onto the mat, in front of the wood door. And then he punched the wall. His knuckles did not hurt, when Tommy put back on his shoes. Tommy's blue bike was leaning up against the yellow brick house. The rusty chain was hanging loose again, scraping at the driveway and when he bent to fix it, Tommy noticed the weeds g...

On Sundays Dave and Barbara would bring the white suit; slung casually over Dave's arm, into the room they had said was his. "Hey, buddy. It is time to get ready for church." Dave would smile down at him. And on Sundays, Barbara would always smile, too. "We can get orange pop, on the way back. If you keep your suit clean." And Tommy would wait until they left the room they had said was his, to throw the clothing over his head and onto himself. Then he would look at himself in the mirror. And on Sundays, Tommy knew he had never went to his Grandmother's church dressed like this. When Tommy was ready, and when Barbara had scrubbed his face clean one last time, they would go through a door in the kitchen, to the garage. They would climb into the blue convertible and the top would be down. It would still smell of fresh oils and lemon. Because on Saturdays, Tommy and David would scrub the car clean. Tommy had never heard someone talk of summer like Barbara t...

Don lived alone and three days after his wife died, he bought himself a riding lawn mower. His late wife had a solid annoyance for slothfulness. One time, Don had let Tommy ride with him. Let him steer the mower, even. Don would throw Mr. Freezes to the children, over the back fence, in the summer. His dead wife would have baked Tommy and Sissy cookies, instead. His dead wife would have probably made them fresh lemonade, too. And had it all sitting on a freaking plastic tray, when she presented it to the little brats that grew-up next-door. Four and a Half Years Old "I just wanted to let you know that we are going," Tommy said, seriously to Don. "We might never be back." "Alright," nodded Don, agreeing. "I have a few things for the two of you. Things you might need. Come on in here for a minute." "Okay," Tommy agreed and led Sissy through the white door, that Don was holding open from the other side. The inside. The living room wa...

The yellow bike was everything. When Tommy was four years old, riding across Chapel Park, he had looked down and back, watching his training wheels cut through the grass and molding the dandelions to the earth. Tommy had felt happy, when the weeds did not pop back up. Now Tommy was six years old and Tommy was racing himself. Up and down the sidewalk, in front of his house. Where Momma was having the yard sale. Tommy would switch the gears on the yellow bike often. Tommy liked doing that best. He did not understand why he could pedal backwards and the bike would still go forwards. He felt like he was from a different planet every time he switched the gears, so Tommy would pretend that his skin was green and that he had yellow eyes, to match his yellow bike. Which was really his spaceship. Tommy was a well-liked alien on the planet Earth because Tommy The Alien could go fast. Tommy was pedalling fast around the corner, head down, crushing down the sidewalk, up along the side of his ...

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Tommy was sitting outside. On the front lawn and under the maple tree. It was raining; had been raining all day. Drizzle and five-minute breaks of fat and fast and rolling rain. Tommy's legs were in shorts, knees gripped to earth. He was wearing his jacket. And the maple tree was old and thick and full. Tommy could hear Momma from the house sometimes. The windows were open and there were no curtains hung up yet. Momma was still unpacking. Momma was swearing. "Fucking piece of shit," she would say, and Tommy would repeat it back, whispered into his chest. Tommy had not spoken to Momma all day. Nor had he spoken to Aunt Lynn the two times she had already been over. Nor had Tommy ate breakfast that morning. And Tommy had not went into the new house for lunch. Because he did not care if it was pizza. Or who had paid for the stinking shit. In fact, the only person Tommy had spoken to all day was the friendly delivery boy, b...

They were walking home. “I am not doing that,” Tommy yelled, and slammed his feet to a halt on the snow and sidewalk. He was not going to take another step. Ever again. Tommy hated cleaning his room. Momma stopped to turn and look at him and Tommy noticing, stomped his feet again, dirty, grey slush flying fast and hitting the white snow of someone’s lawn. “I mean it!’ he yelled, at Momma. And then Tommy took off his blue mittens and threw them. Into the snow bank. Turned to glare at Momma. She turned around and continued walking down the sidewalk. “I am not picking up these mittens!” Tommy yelled at her. “I don’t want them! I am staying here!” Momma did not answer Tommy. She just continued walking. “Momma!” he screamed at her, and again, “Momma!” She hoped he would stop now, not further this. Then she heard his boots pounding the sidewalk to catch up with her. “I am not going back to get them, either,” he said, not looking at her, when he did. “Okay,” said Momma. “I mean it,” h...

"Do you want bubbles, Sissy?" Tommy asked. She jumped twice, arms flapping in front of her and then she stopped. She looked up at him. "YES!" she shrieked, then pulled at her clothes. The cookie clumped on her face and mashed between her fingers made Sissy look ugly, Tommy thought. Dirty and ugly. "Shut-up, Sissy," he said to her, as he bent over the tub, pouring shampoo into the warm water. And Sissy jumped some more, behind him. Sissy hated soap, so Tommy was very wet, as he sat down on the toilet lid, to wait while she played in the water, for awhile. The cuffs of his shirt were sopping and his wrists were itchy. He thought about rocket ships. He stared at the ceiling. Sissy was dressed for bed and they were standing in the bedroom, but now they could not find Lydia. And now Sissy was crying; loudly. Her fists were in a ball and her feet looked as though nailed to the floor. She was screaming and red in the face. Tommy ran out of the room and did no...

She scooped the Kraft Dinner out of the thin pot, onto the gold and white plates and then placed a naked hot dog, beside the noodles. Wanted to vomit from the smell that filled her nose. "I want ketchup," Tommy said, from behind her. "Me, too. Me, too," Sissy echoed. No manners. But it did not matter. "There is none,” Momma picked up the smelling plates; her eyes watching a ray of sunlight splashing the wall underneath the cupboards. And Tommy said nothing in reply, but she could feel his eyes burning into the kitchen table; right through the metal. She turned and two steps and dumped the plates; fast, onto the table, in front of the two children. Then Momma left the room; headed towards the washroom. Could feel the bile, burning the back of her tongue. Her cold feet slapped to a stop in the middle of the living room. She took two, deep breaths. Relax... Momma sat down on the couch. She busied herself, pushing back her cuticles, from scratched nails. Sh...

Sunday She sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her bare feet, her cold feet. The nylon scratched all her skin, when she inched the panty hose up her leg. It was summer. And Momma was tired. She stood and put on the navy dress. The one with the white collar. The only dress that owned a hanger. ... and white shoes look best , she thought; not even aware she had. Tommy was waiting, sitting on the front porch. He looked uncomfortable in his brown corduroys and white shirt. Momma thought he looked like an angel. "You look like an angel, Tommy," she told him, too. "Why are we going over there?" Tommy demanded; chin slamming into his palms and elbows on knees. "Because we have to," she replied. "No one is even there. Why do I have to go with you?" In case I get caught, she answered Tommy; and only to herself. She could feel the itch and trickle of sweat down her back. A bare hot leaving her skin scratched more. The sun; bald and white. The...

Nine Years Old The backyard was such a waste. Looking at it often made Tommy empty with thought. Nothing could be found for pretending with the uneven ground and the sad patches of grass and stone. The tree; short with pale bark. The fence line weeds. Tommy wished just once that they could move to somewhere with a nice backyard, so he could have some fun. ...but somethings never change , Tommy thought and felt grown-up, as he sat on the old wooden porch. It was painted red; flaking and all of the little pieces seemed to be pricking and sticking into his skin. He would brush at the blonde hair on the back of his leg often. The air tasted bitter, dirty. A fat rain drop landed on his colouring book. And then another. Enough to see through to the traces on the next page. He looked towards the kitchen window. The square patch of light. He could see the clock. It made Tommy noticed the lightbulb stuck, jutting out of the wall beside the backdoor for the first time; the soft yello...

MISTLETOE By Queenie I Saw You With Your Hands 1999 Tommy saw her. The snow danced in front of him, fat and plenty and heavy from the night sky; shimmering in the short glow of the streetlights. The headlights. Dim flashes of the seasons colours, blinking, muted in Tommy's background. The snow made the night awash with a cold brightness, blindly blocking views of the life around him. The Christmas shoppers and their loud packages. He could hear last minute swearing underneath breath. But he saw her. With him. And he was trying to grab her purse. Tommy was wearing his Reeboks. And so he stopped him. Above Your Head 2000 They were walking and almost to Tommy's car. “You did not seem to like the show,” Tommy bit the side of his mouth and looked at her. She looked up at him surprised, “No, I did.” “Are you sure?” he said. “I thought about it after I had the tickets. You work down here. You probably see all these shows whenever you want.” She laughed. He had no idea. “I ...

Tommy wiped his wet hands on his jeans as he walked out of the bathroom. The jeans felt damp against his body anyway; the air was dense and heavy. He made his way over to the couch and laid down on it, putting his hands behind his neck. He was too lazy to take off his sandals. The sun was just the last thick orange glimmer of day coming through the window. Tommy swore he could feel it all sliding against his bare chest. He brushed the feeling on his head away with his hand. He heard a voice and the feeling replaced. Momma was trying to get his attention. Tommy opened his eyes. "I am awake, Momma." He looked up at her and her wide smile. Tommy moved her hand away from his head. He could smell her sweet breath. Tommy could see Momma was happy with herself. He could see the dark sky creep through the moving, open curtains. The air had started to stir slightly. He felt thin wisps of that air tickle his exposed skin. "I got you new shoes-" she began, her...