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A cryptic message leads to the clarity of Life's purpose. |
| The protagonist receives a cryptic message sent by an unknown person for some unexplained reason. The dark veil draws him to pursue answers, and in the process, he finds clarity as never before. |
| SLAP! "s***! Mom, that really hurt! I bit my tongue and my lip!" "Come here, you little snot! I'll teach you to use four-letter words with your mother of all people!" "Stay away from me! You have no right to bloody my face. I'm sixteen! Why did you slap me, anyway?" "As if you don't know." "I don't." "What day is it?" "It's Friday night." "What time is it?" "Right now it's 11:20." "When's your curfew?" "11:00 PM" "That's right. You are supposed to be home at 11:00 PM. You were fifteen minutes late!" "I tried to honor your curfew." "My eye." "All my friends are still out having fun." "That's their parents' problem. You could have gotten hurt or worse." "As opposed to coming home, getting a bloody face." (Sticking out chin, leaning in for emphasis.) "THAT'S SASS! I WILL NOT TAKE SASS!" "Mom, you're losing control!" "Not for long! I will control you if it's the last thing I do!" "MOM! NO!" "You may be sixteen, but I can still put a beating on your butt!" "Only if you can catch me." "You're right. You can outrun me, but if that's the route you want to take, then you better sleep with one eye open 'cause I will paddle you, now or later." "Please, Mom! DON'T!" "No use arguing with me." "Mom! DON'T!" "Bend over, and make it bare." "No, Mom! Please! I beg you! NO! Not that!" "I'm waiting." Slowly Solomon unbuckled his belt, undid his button, and unzipped his pants. Just as slowly pants, and underwear were lowered down around his feet, like manacles. "Now, grab behind your knees, and be still." The barrage of the leather belt on bare butt cheeks unleashed Mom's fury on her dutiful son, who was nearly a man, but not quite. The blows stopped when Solomon lay unconscious on the floor. The pain had felled his hopes of being a man, yet again. ("Halloween always seemed to bring out the worst in Mom," Solomon would often say later in life. "It's like she became possessed by a demon. Or maybe she was just that sensitive to whatever we were celebrating at the time.") "I'm going to bed, Solomon," Mom said. "Whenever you wake up, clean up this mess, take a shower, and go to bed, thinking about how you'll never cross me, again." Starting to come around, he said in his stupor, "Ye...s, Ma'am." "Good. I hate Halloween. I'm glad tomorrow is November." ---------------------------- On November 15th just like clockwork, Solomon's mother would start playing Christmas music all over the house, while planning out every last detail about how to decorate this wonderful little domicile for her favorite time of the year. Thanksgiving Day had become the greatest day of the year. Not only did the family enjoy turkey and stuffing with everything necessary to make Thanksgiving Day a wonderful experience, but Solomon was allowed to go out with his friends from late afternoon, until curfew. He was having such a good time, that he forgot to keep looking at his watch every so often. When he finally thought about it, it was exactly 11:00. O. God. No, he thought. He told his best friend, Jack, "I gotta go. It's already my curfew. See you after the holidays," I hope. Fifteen minutes later, Solomon coasted into the driveway with his engine killed, and his lights off. Exiting his car as quietly as possible, he gently pushed the car door to the chasis, and took off his shoes. He crept to the back door, putting the key in the lock with eyes squinting. His face grimaced as engaged the tumblers in the lock, wary of what might await him on the other side of the door. Slowly he pulled the door open to enter the dark kitchen. He closed the door, and locked it just as carefully. The lights flashed on, and his mother shouted a cheery, "Welcome home, Solomon! Why are you back so early? I told you, that you could stay out 'til midnight. It's Thanksgiving after all, and I am so thankful for you. I wanted you to have a good time with your friends." "Uh. We did. Have a good time." "That's wonderful! You should go out, again. It's a long holiday weekend, you know." "I was terrified. I thought I was late, again." "O, poor baby. Come over to the couch, and snuggle with your mother. I'll make it all better. You'll see." Big tears trailed down Solomon's face. I don't know what's worse, he thought, the beatings or the confusion, but at least I feel kind of safe, during Christmas season. by Jay O'Toole on October 7th, 2022   |
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