@turnonthe8-track
The final bell rings, papers and textbooks are shoved into bags, reminders for deadlines are reinforced and a whole school worth of kids shuffle into the halls. To lockers, exchanging secrets and weekend plans, laughing, smiling, sharing youthful glee and excitement for a few days off. No one really notices if you attempt to squeeze through it all, knocking shoulders and not stepping on anyone’s feet as you scramble out of the building and into the courtyard.
Fingers rummage into the pocket of a backpack while the other hand grips through a denim jacket onto a wooden cross hanging from a cord around his neck.
Still, so much chatter and energy swarms through the parking lot, a few people call out goodbyes, happy weekends and see you on Mondays and they are returned with a forced sincerity.
Keys are found and the truck unlocked, backpack tossed onto the passenger seat, his body following into the driver’s seat and finally, the door shut. He’s alone. Silent.
Exhale.
School sucked, but home sucked more. A moment of pouty misery before the delightful silence is interrupted by silver key turning in the ignition and the engine coming to life. The radio turns itself on and some kind of nonsense blares out. It’s fine, he doesn’t care, and he flicks the volume dial in habit, turning it up a notch or two.
Out of the parking lot, onto the main street and he realizes it’s raining, now he’s found an excuse to be even more miserable.
Rain, falls, hard ...
A few stop lights, a turn here and there and before long it’s happening. He’s pulling into the yard of his father’s house, fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel, wishing he had another option.
But father knew when he was due home and he had to abide by the rules.
‘Lord Jesus please fill me with the power I need to be in this house tonight. Lord Jesus please fill me with the power I need to be in this house tonight. Lord Jesus please-‘
So Tommy hated home, but, with an eye of perspective he didn’t have any more of a terrible life than other teenagers. Single, judgemental parent with sky high standards who was always the enemy to the troubled teen who wanted so desperately to rebel into their own life and be free from the trap of being looked after by a parent. Tommy just wanted to live a life with Jesus and play his fantasy games and read comics, not be tormented and pestered every day of his life by an old man.
His life was miserable at best but, what seventeen year old’s wasn’t?
He was also a dramatic little boy so, his life was insufferable, that was his story and he’s sticking to it.
Grabbing his backpack he hops out of his truck and lets himself in, waiting for his father to call to him, ‘Thomas, is that you?’ Every time, and it was always him, who else would it be? It was as if his father forgot of his existence until he had no other choice but to be faced with it. And Thomas? His father insisted on calling him that when it wasn’t even printed on his birth certificate. He was Tommy, Tommy Speck, but, as he had been reminded some few years ago and never allowed himself to forget, “Tommy is not a man’s name, you’re a man now, you need a man’s name.” What did that even mean? A man? Tommy did not know, and did not quite care.
With backpack slung over his shoulder still, he walks into the living room where his father is sitting at the coffee table with,
what the-
Why was she here? His eyes transform from a lifeless , focusless blur to a very aware, cautious stare.
“Say hello Thomas.” His father reminds him of his manners sounding annoyed as always.
“H-Hello.” He stammers, feeling his thighs sweat.
“How was school?”
Oh yeah, like he could concentrate on mindless chit chat when she was sitting there. She wasn’t supposed to be here this evening. Why was she here? He wasn’t prepared. The blond, mysterious, curiously beautiful woman that was his younger sibling’s babysitter, Hedwig Robinson, a woman who tormented him during mostly silent nights and sticky baths, but who had said no more than a few words to him here or there.
Oh what a woman.
He was not prepared for this.
“F-Fine.” His eyes turn back to his father’s, what a vile old man he looked sitting next to Miss Robinson in all her radiant glory.
“Do you have assignments?” Father asks and Tommy nods in response. “Hedwig will help you with them, I’ve been called out tonight, you understand.” He didn’t understand, but it was only because he didn’t care enough about the drivel his father would impose on him when talking about his job. His father was going out, who cared?
“Uh-Okay ...” So what? Now she was his tutor? Fine, so long as he didn’t have to receive any more reprimanding from his father. “I’ll ... I’ll go change.” Hedwig is smiling at him and his arms are beginning to sweat.
Turning away from them both and heading towards his room the situation fully dawns on him that he is going to be sitting with Hedwig, for what? Hours maybe? She will talk, and look at him, and smile, maybe even laugh, maybe she’ll touch him, maybe-
The last stair comes as a surprise and he stumbles his way onto the landing.
This was not going to go well.
