Dad

[Teresa]

He is sitting on the edge of our overstuffed green sofa, leaning toward the coffee table and a bologna sandwich my mother has made, his face still wet from tears over lack of sleep, the frustration of working the night shift.

 

I am sitting high on the back of the green sofa, his head between my knees, my four year old hand guiding a dirty black comb through the oily brown silk of his hair.

 

He is sitting at the formica dinette with my fourteen year old brother, a report card between them, then he slowly raises his thick fist, rests the knuckles lightly on my brother's jawline, like a kiss, then he knocks him to the floor.

 

He has found me hiding from him in the detached wooden garage, my body tucked behind the overturned green sofa discarded weeks before; he picks me up, a silent apology for screaming, for his rage bombs, as my skinny legs wrap around his upper body, my arms around his neck in this, our only connecting moment.

 

He is walking slowly over yellowed park grass, gliding beneath a solid canopy of pecan trees, no hurry or facial expression, as I lay belly down, sure I'm dying, breath knocked out from a fall.

 

He walks through the front door and over my pink sleeping bag at 4 am, a long line of fresh purple stitches on his scalp, a shot gun left in the station wagon, the butt tinged with another man's blood.

 

 

[Kristine_ES]

we are in the palm of your hands, gripped.

how i wish it were fiction. perhaps i could comment easier if it were. 

[Stephen Torelli]

What a tough beginning

[Toby Tucker Hecht]

So much of life is tied up in love and violence. 

[Mariah]

Wow - fact or fiction, this is a beautiful portrayal of brutality and emotion.

[Gita]

The best part about this, if I may say, is the reportorial tone. The voice is flat, factual, telling it but not embellishing it. That makes it all the more horrible. If you could turn back time, wouldn't you want to take your brother and run away from Dad so that your brother could grow up a whole and happy human being?

It amazes me that you can walk upright, let alone write exquisite prose and give love to your own children. fave fave fave fave fave.

[Darin Walker]

I'm with Mr. Lapham, this hurt a lot. Incredible work.

[Angela]

Oh.  That's it.

[Joey Delgado]

Brilliant. Love the interspersing of violence and tenderness. Dad's volatility is so expertly conveyed. Well done. :)

[Mike Handley]

This is your knuckles against my brow, and I'm on the floor, knowing what hit me and loving it.