Page 26 of Bad to the Bone

“Stop it,” I growl rushing into the room, unsure of what I’m going to do next.

“You! You don’t get to have a say in this house, goddammit. This is still my house!” He slams his glass on the desk in front of him, spilling most of the contents on his pants.

“Why not! I’m obviously doomed to live and die as a part of this family. You won’t let it be any other way. So why don’t I get a say. Aren’t I your son?”

“Are you?” He says the words so calmly they temporarily quell the storm brewing in my gut. “If you were my son you would be on MY side. You would be helping ME! But when have you ever been on MY SIDE?”

A single tear rolls down his face, shocking us both.

“You’re the father. I’m the son. It’s not my job to be on your side,” I say, echoing thoughts I have had for years. “You were supposed to be on our side. But, all you ever did was look out for yourself.”

“You’re damned right I look out for myself. And you two have benefitted from it, so don’t get all high and mighty on me. You hate me so much! You hate my job and my lifestyle while you sleep under my roof, eat my food, and mooch off of me for eighteen fucking years! You ungrateful brat!”

“I didn’t want any of this!” I feel something inside me crack open, like a secret passage to a place I walled off long ago. “I never asked you for your fucking money! I just wanted my dad to be as interested in me as he pretended to be. I wanted my mom to have a real husband who loves her. Instead, all we got was you.”

He smirks at me, picking up a second sinter and pouring himself another tall glass of amber liquid.

“Ah yes, the poor martyr. You’re a fool,” he says cruelly.

“Tom, don’t,” mom whimpers behind me.

“I’ll tell you a secret. You think I turned her into the polyester wasteland that she is today,” he shakes his head as a sinister grin emerges on his face. “I found her like this. Of course, back then it was party pills, right, love? She was a lot more exciting then.”

I turn to look at my mother as he talks. Her ashen face and the tears in her eyes tell the truth.

“She was never a well woman, but she was cute and horny, and I liked it that way. I didn’t know that under all of that glitter and bullshit would be this.”

“Mom wasn’t always like this. You made her that way.” I sound childish, refusing to admit that Tom could possibly be telling the truth.

“Oh really? WHY don’t you ask her?”

“So why didn’t you help her. She’s your wife for fuck’s sake!”

“Help her! I hate to break it to you baby boy, but this is her WITH HELP. She costs me a fortune in mood stabilizers and anti-depressants and whatever the fuck else they’re prescribing to washed up party girls these days,” he says, emptying his glass in one gulp. “And the whole time nobody even once asked me what the fuck I want. Do I want to be married to some dead eyed bitch? No! But I stayed married, only to find out that the little dipshit that I raised fucking hates me. That’s great. That’s fucking fantastic!”

I stare at my mother who sits calmly in the corner, silent tears rolling down her ashen face. Her expression is chiseled in stone, not revealing anything about the real turmoil that is going on inside.

“And so you decided to take Kim away from me?”

“Sure. Why not. That’s as good a reason as any other. Why do I have to stay locked in this mausoleum with the martyr.” He’s mocking me and I know it. Still I can’t help but to feel like there is some truth in his words.

The one thing that he hates more than anything is to be made a fool of. I’d gone and done just that by dating Kim right under his nose.

“You can’t wait until you can get out of here and lead your own life. Let me tell you, neither can I. You fucking traitor!”

But those words aren’t true. The truth is that he is a lonely and miserable man whose only enduring legacy will be a tile in a local library with his name on it. I climb the stairs to my bedroom slowly, weighed down by the realization that all of the best moments in life are behind me if I don’t do something fast. When I reach my room I close the door again, but not to keep the sound out. Flopping down on the bed that sits my bedroom and yet has stopped feeling like its mine.

It takes me a moment to realize the wavy vision is the result of the bitter, hot tears I am crying. I’ve really lost everything. I had it all just yesterday, but today I am truly my father’s son. I weep for hours for all of us under this roof and then I weep for Kim. She’s lost too many people already. I never intended to be one of them.

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