As I Am

Chapter Eight

Dedicated to BringEmDown because her last comment made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Also, her comments are always ah-mazing and anyone who gets them is very lucky :)

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Eight

          It doesn’t take me long to realize that doing nothing in the living room is a whole lot different than doing nothing in my bedroom. For one, my mother isn’t writing her book like she usually does during the day – she’s in the kitchen, doing nothing. Well, not nothing exactly. I’d bet good money that she’s listening to me, waiting for a sound of movement every few minutes to know that I’m still breathing.

            For two, when my father is home both my parents are always coming and going past me, each time asking if I need anything, to which I decline. It’s like I can never be alone for more than five minutes and every time that I am, I end up anticipating the next time somebody is going to come into the room.

            For three, I’m not allowed to really do nothing. During the day, Mom makes me put on the TV so she can trick herself into believing that I’m actually watching. So here I am, hoping that I can get some time to myself staring at the screen without really seeing what’s in front of me, when Mom’s kitchen façade finally ends.

            “I found you something,” she says, walking out of the kitchen archway holding something behind her back. From her smile I can already tell that she’s rehearsed this conversation three-hundred times in her head before she came through the door.

            “I don’t need anything,” I reply blankly.

            Mom’s smile wavers but she acts excited anyways as she holds something small and grey in front of my eyes. I squint to see it because her hands are shaking so I take it and read the familiar printing on the plastic shape.

            Pokémon Stadium.

            I look up at her. “Why did you give me this?”

            Mom shrugs, but smiles proudly. “I remembered you used to play it all the time when you were little, so when we moved up here and left most of our electronics behind, I dug it out. I was saving it for a rainy day but I thought this counted.”

            “You didn’t have to do that,” I say to be nice. I gently set the plastic down on my blanketed lap and try to smile. “Thanks.”

            My mom looks like I’ve just given her the biggest compliment in the world. Ecstatic, she holds up one finger and runs as fast as a mom can into the kitchen. When she returns, she has a plastic bag containing the Nintendo 64 I hadn’t seen in years.

            She sets it all up for me, talking non-stop about how much I used to play the game and random things about my childhood that I never knew because I was too busy living it than making mind-snapshots.

            “Do you want me to play with you?”

            Before he left for work this morning, my dad left a note on the floor beside me saying that Mom was upset about last night and that I should be easy on her after the worry and scare I put her through. So as much as I don’t want to spend time with her right now, I shrug and tell her yes. I guess her watching over me from somewhere I can see is less weird than when she was in the kitchen.

            I pull off the blanket and make room for my mother. Cat ends up sitting in my lap, his front legs hanging over my own as he watches us choose Pokémon as if he understands the movements and words on the screen.