A secret: Writing exercise
The boy grabbed the sumac drupes and squished them between his dirty fingers. I wanted to slap him but ‘stead I just said “no.” He’s only four and I never hit my kids before they’s five. But this one tested me, more than t’others.
He was freckled and near cross-eyed like his daddy. When he looked at me with his good eye I felt like he was looking at my mind, though he dint never say more’n “boo” to me. Dint say much to no one, really, which made mos’ ‘spec he was slow. Was hard to tell if he’s slow or just mean, and tricky. All kids is mean at four, anyway, and I was hopin’ hard he’d outgrow it. His daddy dint never.
“Carl junior quit that right now yer gettin’ yer white shirt all stained,” I hollered but ‘for I could finish Carl senior came out on the porch and asked what’s yer problem. Why you so hard on that boy?
I wanted to tell him so bad a hole burnt thru my tongue. Out loud I said that he was always gettin’ into trouble and he needed the rod. It was only good for him.
I turned my back on the boy and watched the sunset. I like to look at the sun when it caint burn my eyes. Seems wrong that something like that could blind you, something so everyday like the sun.
Carl junior’s putting worms and beetles in his pockets when I turned around. In his Sunday clothes, even. I bit my tongue. He laughed when his sister screamed to stop putting bugs in her hair. I bit so hard I could taste blood.
Half-sister, I corrected myself. Though no one knew that but me.
He was freckled and near cross-eyed like his daddy. When he looked at me with his good eye I felt like he was looking at my mind, though he dint never say more’n “boo” to me. Dint say much to no one, really, which made mos’ ‘spec he was slow. Was hard to tell if he’s slow or just mean, and tricky. All kids is mean at four, anyway, and I was hopin’ hard he’d outgrow it. His daddy dint never.
“Carl junior quit that right now yer gettin’ yer white shirt all stained,” I hollered but ‘for I could finish Carl senior came out on the porch and asked what’s yer problem. Why you so hard on that boy?
I wanted to tell him so bad a hole burnt thru my tongue. Out loud I said that he was always gettin’ into trouble and he needed the rod. It was only good for him.
I turned my back on the boy and watched the sunset. I like to look at the sun when it caint burn my eyes. Seems wrong that something like that could blind you, something so everyday like the sun.
Carl junior’s putting worms and beetles in his pockets when I turned around. In his Sunday clothes, even. I bit my tongue. He laughed when his sister screamed to stop putting bugs in her hair. I bit so hard I could taste blood.
Half-sister, I corrected myself. Though no one knew that but me.
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