Hazel's Hitchhiker

26: Shades of a Painting

Joey

"You alright?" asked Hazel who brought me back to Earth after drifting into thought for several minutes.

The memory of my dad beating the shit out of me felt all too real. It was as if it were actually happening again. And because it felt that way, my stomach and shoulders were in pain. A headache quickly followed. Looking at Hazel, my hands took control of the painting and set it down on the table she found it on.

"I'm not sure. The painting brought back a weird memory."

"Were you looking at the painting of your father?" asked my mom who stood next to us with a finger on the painting. She showed no emotion. "That was the first painting I painted when I first moved out here. It's the only painting without a name. And it's the only painting I refuse to sell." Her voice sighed with her full attention on the painting. "Your father was a complicated man. When I first met him, he was kind and generous, but he also had a bit of a bad boy complex. I suppose I've always been attracted to edgy guys. When I met him, he seemed like a guy I could somehow change."

My mother came to a pause and it became obvious she didn't want to discuss this anymore. And because of that, her attention came back to us. "Let's go back downstairs," she suggested. "I was planning on washing the dishes before Craig came home from work tonight. If I don't do it, he will. And he does a crap job at it." With a brief silence, my mom's hand put itself on Hazel's shoulder. "And I'm curious to know more about you, Hazel. I would love it if you could help me."

Hazel smiled and the two of them seemed to have an instant connection leaving me to what seemed to be the third wheel. On our way downstairs, I found out that Craig was my mom's boyfriend for the last couple of years. Apparently, Craig started his own business. It was unclear as to what it was and what he was actually doing. In a short time, I found myself sitting at the kitchen table drinking lemonade while my mom and Hazel both began to wash dishes leaving me to get lost in my thoughts.

It had felt like an eternity since my mom took off, but in fact, it wasn't that long as it had only been about three weeks. And each day that passed, the house began to look worse. Beer cans laid all over the living room and were beginning to litter up on the kitchen floor. The sink was covered up by dishes that weren't going to be washed. The trashcan was overfilled with garbage and desperately needed to be taken out. The worst part of all of this was that roaches began leeching all over the kitchen sink. It was pretty clear at that point that mom had done a lot and we had taken her for granted.

"Boy!" shouted my old man the moment I came home from school. Please God, not another beating. "Get your ass here to the kitchen!

"What is it, sir?" I asked while noticing a lady standing in the kitchen. What the hell was going on?

"Boy, meet our new maid Lupita." We both greeted each other. "I just hired her this morning and she's going to help clean this damn dump of a house that we made." None of this mess was actually my fault, but arguing wasn't wise. "If you have any laundry, now is the time to give it to her."

In fact, there were a lot of clothes of mine that needed to be washed. Yes, I was perfectly capable of doing my own laundry, but if Lupita was going to do it, who was I to stop her?

The next couple of months were interesting. My dad had become less angry and started drinking a lot more than usual. Lupita never said a damn word either. It was almost like a perfect situation for my old man. According to him, he didn't have to deal with a nagging old lady who complained about his drinking habits, and with what she was getting paid, the house would continue to stay clean. And during these few months, very few words were exchanged between me and my old man. The only time we conversed was upon my return from school. He would grunt a few words and my body found itself in my room. This had especially been the case when I started the basketball season.

On a particular Sunday night, I locked myself in my room to do a couple of hours worth of homework. It was a rainy night and it came to my realization that the weather system made so little damn sense. Passing Earth Science seemed almost impossible. And it didn't help that a picture of my mom laid on my desk.

"¿Esa es tu mamá?" (Is that your mom?) asked Lupita who arrived with a Sprite poured in a glass and delivered it to me as usual.

"Yup," my mouth spoke in English not knowing how to respond in Spanish. But if my old man could communicate with her by speaking Spanish, I was pretty sure that I could also do that. "I miss her a lot.

"Ella es hermosa como tu," (She is beautiful like you) she responded.

Beautiful like me? Compared to that lady that walked out on us, I was nothing like her. Her soul was something different compared to mine. There was no comparison between us. None at all. Lupita had it all wrong.

"Joey?" my mom snapped with her fingers. "You there? Earth to Joey."

Coming back to reality, it became apparent that Hazel was not in the kitchen and the dishes were completely done. And looking at the time on the clock, it looked like a couple of hours had passed since the two of them started doing the dishes. Was my mind really out of it for that long? Why did I daydream about the past so much? Was there something wrong with me?

"Yeah sorry. What's going on?"

"Hazel agreed that we should all go out to eat for dinner tonight. There's a really good Mexican Restaurant here in Avondale. It's 'Raul and Theresa's.' Are you down to go? Craig will also be a little late, but you'll be able to meet him.

The next chapter should be interesting! Thanks for reading! Remember to comment and vote!

Do you have a step-parent?

Can you believe Joey was able to live with his dad for four years?

Are you excited to meet Craig?

Will Joey like Craig?