Bugs

"Family"

         "Ty get your ass down here right now!" She was in a bad mood. Jamie had just gotten laid off and they didn't have enough money to buy booze, so she was on the fritz. Jack looked up at me, as I politely yelled that I would be down in a moment. I grinned, reached down and ruffled his hair a bit. "Don't look at me like that. She probably just wants me to do something simple." He gave a little toothless smile, frowned, continued to look at me, then looked down. "Ty, why doesn't she like you? I mean... What did you do wrong?" I looked at him, looked away and walked out of the room.                                                                                                                                                                   As I walked down the old wooden steps, they squeaked under my weight. I flinched a little. God dammit, why do you have to squeak? Why cant you just do me a favor and help me not piss her off? She suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps, her hair pulled up in a messy bun, her over grown bangs sticking up at all angles, and falling out. A few strands of her wavy amber hair were brushed behind her ears. I could tell as she looked at me that she was about to blow. I must have looked at her in the wrong way because just then she grabbed my shirt and pulled me down the remaining few steps.                                                                                                                                 She pushed me into the kitchen. She glared at me. "What the fuck took you so long? Do I need to get Jamie's belt?" "No" I replied. Almost as fast as I said it, she smacked me in the head. "What did you just say to me?! I know for a fucking fact that you did not just fucking say that. Do you want me to get the fucking belt? Yes or no?" I cowered at her feet. "No ma'am. No ma'am. Please do not get the belt ma'am. I'm sorry." Now on my knees, covering the back of my neck with my hands, she pulled me up by the back of my shirt so hard I could hear the seams pop. Once I was standing, I looked at my feet. When she was mad, nobody dared to look her in the eye, in fear that the next time she hit you, it wasn't going to be as easy to get up.                                               In my peripheral vision, I could just barely see the outline of the kitchen counter. Its marble was white and yellow. Streaks of black covered it, being about 1/2 inch thick and having sharp edges, I could only imagine how much it weighed or cost.                                                                                 "Do you think you can do that?" She asked in a harsh tone.                                                                 I think this was the dumbest thing I've ever done in my entire life. I looked at her. Caught off guard by her question, I looked her right in the eye and said something along the lines of "huh?" Or "what?"  I instantly knew it was a mistake. She grabbed a glass vase that was sitting comfortably on the counter. I'd seen this large, transparent, ugly, green vase before, never paying much attention to it, but as it came down on my head, I wished I would have noticed it sooner. 

~~~

When I opened my eyes, black spots slowly faded as I saw the light from the downstairs bathroom cast a ray a few feet away. Jack was sitting crosslegged next to my sore lifeless body. His sea colored eyes looked down at me. His shaggy, dirty blond hair was nearly covering his eyes these days. Moist with tears, is cheeks were red and puffy.  When he noticed my eyes open, a feeling of relief washed over him as he grabbed my hand and held it. When he gave me a worried little boy smile, his gums showed from where he had just lost his two front teeth. His clammy little hands were trembling as he squeezed as much of my hand he could hold.                             I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. When I opened them again, Jack was kneeling. As I tried to sit up, he rose to his feet and helped me get my balance. "Criss cross apple sauce Ty" he said cheerfully. As if to make me smile. I gave him a half hearted grin. The most I could muster with the splitting headache that I was trying to ignore. "Yes sir" I whispered in an attempt to keep the headache subdued. As I pulled myself to my feet with the counter, my legs weak and not wanting to support my weight, Jack moved swiftly over to my side and put my arm around him. Allowing me to use him as support, we walked to the large oak table that took up most of the 1980's era dining room. The floral wallpaper and light pink paint chipping to expose a boring white/tan color.                                                                                                                                                                                                              We worked together to sit down at the dark brown, oval shaped table. Its legs, hand carved with ornamental looking curves, stood nearly 3 1/2 feet high. With all 3 leaves put in the middle of the table, its full size was about 6 1/2 feet, making it a bit crowded unless you're 70 pounds and 7 years old.  Jack fit that description perfectly. He sat me in the large chair that was already pulled out.  Once he was sure that I was sitting comfortably, he pulled out his own chair and sat next to me.                                                                                                                                                We silently sat for a moment. My mind racing. Trying to slow down my thoughts in a desperate attempt to lessen my headache, I raised my eyes to look at him. The fingers on his left hand were tapping on the table as if they were dancing to a tune he was playing in his head. His right hand was covered with a few brown band aids. The adhesive stretched at weird angles.                      "Jacky what happened?" I asked him. He stopped tapping and looked at me for a moment. As he repositioned himself in his chair, he took a deep breath. "Mom made me go to bed without supper. When she fell asleep, I came down here and found you. I tried to clean up the glass, but it was all over. I couldn't find the dustpan, so I used my hands to pick it up." He put his hands in his lap and looked at them in shame. "Im sorry Ty. Its my fault mom hit you"                                                        I wanted to yell at him in that moment. I grabbed the back of the chair and the table to balance myself on and stood up. "Jack you don't ever say that again you hear me?" I squatted down next to him so I was at his eye level. I laid my hand on the back of his neck and turned his head to look at me. "Jacky, nothing she does is your fault. She's just having a bad day, thats all. Your mom will always love you. Nothing she does is your fault." I repeated. He looked at me with hopeful eyes. "Now go to bed, you hear me? I'll see you tomorrow."