Character Weaknesses

I drove to my mom's house and parked along the sidewalk. She lives in the older part of a subdivision called Green Valley. It's bright and cheerful and not very far from where I am. I'd move further away, but I think she'd follow me.

Okay, I'm not being fair. I love my mother. She did a really great job of raising me all by herself. My father, AKA the Sperm Donor, has never shown any kind of interest in my live, ever. I guess it got pretty nasty before I was born, because my mother doesn't keep any kind of pictures or any kind of momentos of him at all. In fact, if you even mention that I *have* a father, she'll get testy and/or weepy. I learned that in grade school. Sometimes, it's just best not to go there.

My mom opened the door as I approached. She must have been getting ready to go to work because she had on a blue Chanel type suit that emphasized her slim waist, and tasteful gold hoop earrings. Her hair was pulled back into a loose knot that seemed effortless, but probably took her a half hour to accomplish. She looked like a million bucks. But then again, she always put a lot of effort into how she looked.

"Traffic?" she asked. I ignored her.

"Where's the snake?"

Her shoes clicking on the tile floor -- she always wears heels and says that they're more comfortable to her than sneakers -- she led me to the backyard. She pointed at a bush. "I heard a rattling sound coming from over there. It sounded really big, too."

I peered into the greenery, but didn't see anything. I grabbed a rake from the shed and started poking around.

There was a small garter snake under a rosemary bush. He must have been about fourteen inches long. I held him out for my mother to see. "Is this the rattlesnake?"

My mother let out a yelp and raced back inside, slamming the door behind her. I heard the cylinders turn.

I called out to her, "Make sure you bolt it too! Snakes are really good at picking locks." The little snake squirmed in my hands. I rubbed his belly a couple of times, and he relaxed. He was actually quite pretty, with green stripes all along his body and shiny black eyes. He looked at me just like a frightened snake should, which somehow reminded me of my run in with the roadrunner. I gave his belly one last rub and stuck him into an old pillowcase that I had brought especially for the occasion.

Since it wasn't especially hot, I thought he'd be safe in my car, so I knotted the pillowcase and stuck it under the front seat of my car. Later, I'd find somewhere safe to release him.

I rang the doorbell to my mom's house.

"Where's the snake?" she asked. "You're not bringing a rattlesnake into my house."

"I killed him," I lied. "I threw him in your neighbor's trashcan. Do you want to see?"

"No!"

That seemed to satisfy her, but she checked my hands before she'd let me inside. Without asking, she started boiling some hot water.

I sat down at the kitchen table. The furniture was all Danish, which gave the room an immaculate feeling. It was pretty amazing that she was able to keep the place so spotless and work as the catering manager at one of the larger strip hotels. And raise me all by herself. Gulp.

"You know you're getting older, don't you?" she asked.

Whatever warm and fuzzies I was feeling were starting to evaporate.

"I think we all are," I answered.

My mother grunted as if she thought that growing older wasn't really an option for her.

"Are you still at that one place?"

"Joe's? Yeah." As if I were explaining myself, I added, "They give us benefits."

Another grunt. "Still dealing?"

This was starting to grate on me. I would have been out of there when she first started with the questions, but the smell of the Kona brew she was making for us was just too enticing. One cup, then I'd leave. And another to go. I didn't need this kind of headache, ever, and especially not on my birthday.

Finally, the coffee was ready. She was quiet as she reached for a pair of ceramic mugs and filled them with fresh, caffeinated goodness.

She set one in front of me and the aroma wafted up around me.

I waited for her to mention something about Jazz or one of my other friends. Anything else, and I was going to take the mug with me and go find that poor garter snake a new home.

“You know, you could do better. Your teachers always said how smart you were.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

She took a sip and continued. “Yeah, you thought I was always too busy with work to notice, but I always talked to them. They loved you. They thought you had a bright future ahead of you. I hate to see you wasting your talents.” She said it quickly, like the words were dangerous and she didn't want to keep them in her mouth too long. “I don't want to see you miss out.”

“Miss out on what?”

“Everything.”

I didn't know what to say after that, so I said nothing. I wanted to say that I wasn't missing anything, but we both knew that wasn't true. My grades were good enough. I could have gone to college. I could be doing something that mattered in the world. But instead, I was just a blackjack dealer in a crummy casino way off the Strip.

Let's face it – I was twenty-seven years old, and I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up.