Did you miss Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, or Part V?

I left the room and went to play in mine until I heard the water running in the sink. I went and joined Dad in the bathroom for his morning shave.

“Hey, kiddo! Sleep good?”

Sleep good?!? He had to be kidding! How could I have slept well when I was soaking wet because he made me take the trash out during the storm? How good a night’s sleep can someone possibly get when they woke up in pain every time they rolled on their back? Sleep good??

“Yeah. I slept pretty good.”

“Great. Watcha got planned for today?”

“Nothin’ much. Probably just playing around the house.”

“I see. Well, maybe tonight we can go out and get some ice cream. Would you like that?”

“Yeah! That’d be great!!”

I was excited before I could seven stop myself. I knew better than to believe that we would actually go out. The beers at supper would change our plans. But, he was my father and I loved him. He meant well, and I tried to convince myself that meaning well was what really mattered. Dad always meant well in the morning. He was different at those times, different than the man I knew at night. I wished it could be morning all day long.

I played in my room most days while Dad was at work. I never enjoyed being with Mom because she was so depressed. I can still see her lying on the couch, her forearm resting on her face, complaining about everything she could think of. I felt alone with or without her and so I usually tried to stay out of her way. I had no friends, and even if I had any, I wouldn’t have brought them to my house. Well, maybe in the morning, or for an hour before supper. No, that would never work. It was safer to just keep to myself instead.

Tomorrow: Lost time – Part VII

Did you miss Part I, Part II, Part III, or Part IV?

Mmmm! I woke to the smell of breakfast cooking and stretched in the bed. It was a new day and last night seemed like a bad dream. Maybe it was. Maybe it was all just one bad dream! I jumped out of bed and ran to my parents’ room. Dad was still in the bed and I called to him as I jumped up.

“Good morning, Dad!” He didn’t move. No hug, no words, nothing. My smile faded as quickly as my hope that I had been dreaming. I knew better. Just like always, my father was passed out from all the beer the night before. He’d be this way for at least an hour; he always was.

As I watched him, I got angry. I wanted to pull out his belt and whip him, just like he’d whipped me the night before. My back still stung from the beating and I wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt me! But, I couldn’t. I dropped my head in my hands and could feel my face burning from the shame. How could I even think something like that? He was my father, and I loved him. Anyway, he wouldn’t even remember what had happened. He never did. Why punish him for something that he wouldn’t even remember? Only a bad son would do that. My father deserved a better kid than me.

Tomorrow: Lost time – Part VI

Did you miss Part I, Part II, or Part III?

The pain shot from my back to every part of my body. It was intense, white-hot, and it brought me up in the bed ready to fight.

“What do you want?”

“The garbage! You forgot to take out the garbage. You always forget things! What’s wrong with you, anyway? Now get up and take out the trash!”

“But, dad, it’s raining. Can’t I take it out in the morning?”

The swift slap was followed by even more rage. “Don’t you ever talk back to me! Now go do what I said!!”

I cried as I took out the trash, and the tears mixed with the rain and soothed my throbbing cheek. Drops from heaven ran down my back and cooled the new stripe that had been added to my reminders of other nights. I wanted to stay outside. I wanted to walk down the driveway and never come back. But, I couldn’t. My mom needed me. She needed me to protect her, to fix our family.

As I crawled back into my bed, I was already dreading the next night. It would be the same as tonight, and last night, and the multitude of nights before those. Last night it was the dishes, tonight the trash. I could never please him, no matter how hard I tried. He always found something that I had done wrong, or hadn’t done at all. As I slipped into sleep, I prayed that God would make me a good kid.

Tomorrow: Lost time – Part V