Circumstances 7

The ride home wasn’t pleasant, but it was quiet.  There was tension in the air, and the feeling an explosion was near, about as near as our driveway which was fast approaching.  It was better, though, that kaboom only being imminent, not actually being in the car with it going off, over and over.

She pulled into the driveway, then into the attached garage, and I was out of the car almost before it stopped rolling.  She got out, looked at me, then opened the door into the house from the garage and held it for me without saying a word.

I walked past her, into the kitchen and sat down at the table.  She walked in right behind me and started talking before she even got to the table.

She started by asking the same questions, saying the same things she’d said as we were leaving school.  Her voice got louder as she went.  She must have yelled at me for five minutes, asking questions, talking about how much of a disappointment I’d turned out to be, even mentioning my dad a bit, using him as a comparison.  Neither of us seemed to win out in that, somehow.

I didn’t say a word, and she finally she ran out of breath, I guess.  I just sat there looking at her.  She stopped.  She and I looked at each other.  Then she pulled out her chair and sat down.  She looked like she was ready to start in again, but I beat her to it.

“Are you ready for me to talk now, to tell you what happened, or do you just want to keep yelling at me?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.  The fact I’d been almost confrontational probably sunk in.  It wasn’t me, and she must have noticed that.  She didn’t say anything, simply nodded.

So, I told her.  I told her everything, starting with leaving my essay too late and that causing me not to get enough sleep.

Well, not everything.  I didn’t tell her I was especially horny, or why.  I did tell her that I’d had a wet dream on the bus.  I didn’t tell her why Mr. Johnson thought I was humping the hand dryer, just that he was mistaken, I’d only been wiggling to get closer to it when he’d walked in.  I did tell her why I was naked and only had my shirt to partially cover myself.  

I told her about my detention, and about the threat of being called out in an assembly and being humiliated before the entire school.  I told her how embarrassing it all was, how it was going to be difficult to ride on the bus or go to school, how scared I was thinking about those things.  How my life was going to be almost impossible now.  And then, I finished by telling her that what I needed to get through all this was a mother who loved me and supported me and who I knew would be there behind me as I tried to survive what was ahead of me.  I told her she was all I had, but if I had her, I had a chance.

I had no idea if this would work or not.  My mother had been a loving mother, once.  Then dad had cheated on her, and it had been ugly.  An ugly divorce with horrible accusations on both sides, written up with lurid details in the papers.  It had hurt Mom, and she hadn’t been the same since.  She had only me to take her frustrations out on, and I was male, and the male subdivision of the species was high on her shit list.  Probably tops.

I told her my story, then just stopped.  I figured it wouldn’t hurt my chances any, so I thought real hard about what was going to happen to me, about trying to ride on that bus with the abuse I’d be taking, about gym class, about walking in the halls, and managed the effect I wanted.  I was able to start shaking and dribble a few tears.

Hey, they were real tears!  And in all honesty, I didn’t have to try all that hard.

She looked at me, saw the tears, then looked away.  I couldn’t read the expression on her face.  Her eyes seemed to be focused about eighty miles away.

I just sat there, still basically naked, and hung my head.  That happened without any internal coaxing. 

Finally, I felt something on my hand, which was lying on the table.  I looked up, and saw she’d put her hand on mine.

“I’ve been kind of a bitch, haven’t I?” she asked, her voice low and hurting.

I was out of my chair in an instant and in her lap, hugging her, real tears pouring down my face.  I couldn‘t have spoken if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t.  What I wanted, what I desperately needed, was the hug she was giving me, and I was giving her back.

We held that hug till I got too heavy for her.  She hunched her hips, and I knew I had to get off.  I did, sat back in my chair, and dried my face and eyes.

“I need you, Mom.  I really need you.”

“I know.  And you’ve got me.  We’ll figure this out together.”

I smiled.  I think it was the first time all day.  Well, maybe I’d smiled at Gary.

Gary!  I had to call him.  Maybe I’d got my mom back, we’d have to see.  I didn’t really expect this change in her to last.  But maybe, just maybe, I had a new friend.  Maybe this wouldn’t end up as the worst day of my life after all.