Authors: Thomas Melo
“The moose.” Not a question, a statement. At least he had the good sense not to lie this time. That would help him, but still the admission to the offense wiped away the minor victory that hearing the truth, in lieu of a song and dance, had brought, and instead replaced the would-be instant fury with another step towards the edge of the cliff upon which Ray and Cindy’s anger was unsteadily perched.
“What is
wrong
with you?” Cindy cried.
He just stared at them. Void of contempt, void of, well, of anything. He looked lobotomized. When enough of a block of time passed, plagued with their son’s catatonia, Ray had decided that enough was enough.
“You’re going to want to answer your mother…
rapidly
,” Tyler’s father threatened. A responsive flicker entered Tyler’s countenance, and then, a retort.
“It was just a prank! The seniors do it every year, hence the name ‘senior prank’!” Tyler snapped.
Cindy shot a quick glance at her husband. It was quick enough so that no one saw her do it, but watchful enough to realize that her husband was seething, and that she needed her son to realize that he needed to change his attitude fast. He was in danger.
“That’s not a
prank
, Tyler! That’s vandalism! It’s a crime! What is with you lately? This kind of behavior isn’t like you. You know, your father and I were no angels in high school, believe me, we weren’t, but we never destroyed other people’s property or vandalized anything. I mean, Jesus Christ, Ty!”
Tyler just rolled his eyes at his mother’s righteous oration. She saw it and decided she would pick her battles with her son during this tense bout of parenting, but unfortunately, Ray had seen the rolling of the eyes as well, and he thought that this particular battle was ripe for the picking…over-ripe, even.
Ray, who was initially standing behind and a little to the left of his wife took a long stride forward when he saw his son’s eyes roll in his head, and mocking his wife, his partner, and occasional co-disciplinarian.
“You want to just keep your eyes on your mother when she’s talking to you, because if I see you roll them at her again, I’m going to put you through that wall behind you, got it?” Ray growled.
Tyler’s late teenage instincts were to roll his eyes in response, but he was able to think soberly and look beyond his teenage angst for a second and dodge that bullet…at least for the time being.
“Now here’s what’s going to happen: First, you’re grounded for the first week of your summer vacation. Your father and I are going to send an anonymous check to the town clerk in order to cover the damage that you caused; and you’re going to pay it bac
k–
”
“Every goddamn red-cent, which means that you’ll be getting a part time job this summer,” Ray said, glaring at his son. Cindy did not appreciate being interrupted, but agreed with her husband’s brand of justice just the same.
“And second, your father and I are going to talk long and hard about whether we think it’s a good idea for you to see Lilith anymore. We know that she talked you into it and she’s been a bad influence on you,” Cindy revved up. She was revealing a stance and she was prepared to argue her points one at a time, just like the old days when she was co-captain of her high school debate team. Only this time, instead of a certificate and a cheap plastic trophy, her son’s possible well-being were the potential stakes.
“We’re going to let her mother know what’s going on, and that maybe you both have been seeing a little too much of each other. Perhaps it’s time to take a step back for a little bit.”
Their son’s guise went from defiant and servile to outright anger and panic. Reading his son’s face, Ray added, “And you’re lucky we’re not demanding that her mother split the cost to repair the damage with us and
really
fix your ass good!”
Cindy gave her husband a brief glance which said, “was that really necessary?” and Tyler saw it: a small fissure in the foundation of a united front, the weapon of choice for battling offspring. Cindy and Ray already lost; they just did not know it yet.
“You can’t do that! That’s not fair and you just can’t!” Tyler was flailing and he knew it. Ray and Cindy were not sure of this part of the punishment themselves. They knew that their son’s girlfriend was trouble, but they also knew that there was very little that they could do about it. But, the punishment was out there and they had created a very hairy catch-22 or Kobayashi Maru, for those who ken Star Trek. Either they dispensed justice and had no intention of sticking to their guns, which would strip them of their disciplining credibility, or they stuck to their guns and caused their only son the type of grief that leaves scars. How noticeable would those scars be? Time would field that question for them.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, T
y–
” here came the clichéd line that has escaped every parent’s mouths at one point or another throughout history. “As long as you’re living under this roof, you’ll obey everything your mother and I tell you. If we tell you to jump, the next thing that should come out of your mouth if you have to say
anything
is asking us how high we want you to jump.” Yes, it was corny, and clichéd, but it was effective. Ray’s don’t-you-dare-fuck-with-me tone sold the hackneyed threat. But teens rarely back down, don’t they?
“Fine! I’ll just leave! Fuck this bullshit!” Tyler exploded.
Cindy did not even take a split second to assess. By the time she turned to her left, where her husband had been helping her stand their ground, he had already gotten by her and was on his way over to his son. She had never seen him move so fast. It actually frightened her. Her husband’s speed reminded her of how Beast, the blue-skinned mutant whose super-power was teleportation, from the blockbuster movie, X-Men, had moved. They had taken him to see it in order to quell Tyler’s constant nagging.
Before Cindy and even Tyler knew it, he was lifted out of his chair by the lapel of his shirt and held up against the wall with his father’s nose so close to his that he could see the little beads of rage-sweat beginning to seep up through the microscopic pores in his skin.
“I’ve heard about all I’m prepared to take from that mouth of yours. You got that? You wanna repeat what you just said to your mother and I? You wanna? Huh? I
dare
you. Go ahead, I’m listening!” Ray threatened through gritted teeth, his nose accidently and awkwardly bumping into Tyler’s more than once.
Cindy was panicked. She didn’t know if Ray meant to hit Tyler. She just knew that this was the hottest under the collar she had ever seen him before and she was worried. What was more was that she did not know if her son, on the brink of adulthood, would put his hands on his father in anger or perceived self-defense.
“Knock it off! Stop it! STOP IT!” she screamed as she pulled at her husband’s shoulder. The two men glared at each other as Ray slowly loosened the firm grasp that was crumpling his son’s shirt, a shirt that Ray had paid for in one way or another. As the crisis slowly but surely came to a close, Ray involuntarily mentally quipped at his son, “I brought you into this world, I can take you out!” That would have been two clichés for dad so far that day. Tyler almost lost control of his emotions and let the seedling of a smile surface on his lips, which would have been a grave error on his part, but held his emotions in check.
“Go to your room. I’ll be up in a few minutes to take the phone and TV out,” Ray informed his son.
Tyler made an immediate about-face and jogged up the stairs, out of sight, and slammed his bedroom door closed.
“Was it really necessary to put your hands on him, Ray?”
“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him…talking to us like that.”
“I’ll give Lilith’s mother a call and let her know what’s going on. Not that I think she’ll give a shit. I’ve never gotten her on the phone
yet
,” Cindy told her husband. Cindy was not able to get a hold of Lilith’s mother and she was not surprised in the least. She left a message on their answering machine, but never heard back from her.
Again, she was not surprised.
Chapter 6
That summer was full of activity in the fairly large town of St. Anastasio, New York.
Tyler, along with Lilith and Jayson, were part of the graduating class of 2019. The graduation ceremony had subdued the querulous atmosphere which had recently permeated, no, stunk-up the Swanson homestead, and that was spectacular…for everyone. The tension between her alpha male husband and Cindy’s wannabe alpha male son was very uncomfortable, and since Tyler was grounded, he was home all the time and not in the greatest mood, as one might expect. It was a recipe for disaster that would make the kitchen incident seen like a day at the beach.
The commencement ceremony was held on a broiling late June day on the football field of Alan B. Shepard High School. The ceremony was very tasteful and sentimental without even tip-toeing into the neighborhood of becoming maudlin. The valedictorian, Spencer Mason, even delivered a speech which was not hokey in the least, much to his peer’s and their parent’s astonishment and delight. He had hoped to become some hot shot scientist, as he had received a full ride to either Caltech or MIT, or one of those ivy-league schools.
Sure, some graduates received significantly more applause than others, like the elected class clown (from the Senior Banquet elections where the “popular kids just took turns sucking each other off by giving one another bullshit awards in the form of monikers”), Wesley Cicero…two names that went together like toothpaste and orange juice. The prom king and queen, along with the popular athletes, got a rousing roar of approval from the friends with whom they would lose contact by summer’s end…even with the immortalization of “friendships” that contemporary social media provides.
Yes, the ceremony was very tasteful. The only blemish on the ceremony came in the form of a speech by Jim Colabza, announcing that he would be retiring and that this graduation ceremony would be his last. Tyler was taken aback and saddened by the sudden announcement and by his favorite teacher’s abrupt desire to move on.
Typically, there would be a cavalcade of rumors floating around school when a teacher was preparing to take their final stroll down the same hallways they used to patrol for so long. But, Jim Colabza’s decision had been somewhat knee-jerk and decided upon swiftly; there was no time for a rumor to circulate like that of his sexuality. The district offered to alter his resignation to a leave-of-absence, giving him the option to come back the following year if he thought better of his decision, but Jim’s decision was made with the decisiveness of a unanimous jury throwing the proverbial book at a child molester found with a child duct taped to a chair in his basement. Jim’s house was already on the market.
The teacher’s union had made some good points about retiring early, but the best point, perhaps, or so they thought, was that Jim would take a bit of a hit on his pension. Jim was adamant that his decision was final and not without plenty of consideration. The opposite was true of the latter, but his decision was final nonetheless.
Mr. Colabza’s speech at graduation was heartfelt and earnest and brought some fellow faculty members as well as parents and students to tears. Although tears never made their way down Tyler’s cheeks, his eyes were saturated with them. An improperly timed blink would certainly have sent salty tendrils cascading down his heat-flushed cheeks, and he would be in good company.
Lilith, who was sitting next to Tyle
r,
of cours
e,
noticed this and made a face as if she suddenly smelled dog-shit. She silently scoffed and shook her head and looked back at the dais where Mr. Colabza was saying his final goodbyes to the school district and community that he had enriched for over twenty years, and smirked. Without warning, the PA system that had carried the speeches of the valedictorians and select faculty members before Jim, began to spark.
Abruptly, the two small twelve inch P.A. speakers exploded. Lilith’s smirk grew into a gruesome sneer. A collective crowd-wide gasp pierced through the gob-smacked audience. Following the shaken gasps, a deafening silence enveloped the entire football field and viewing stands at Alan B. Shepard High School until good ole’ Wesley Cicero, star running back
cum
Class Clown yelled out, “Blow the roof off this fucker! We love you, Colabza!” to which the newest emeritus of the Alan B. Sheppard High School faculty gave a half-hearted fist-pump into the air in acknowledgment.