Nerve Damage: Chapter 2

Echoes from the Past Part 1

Lester Givens had a face like an approaching storm; his hair and eyes were black as thunderclouds, while his stare rained ice on anyone that fell in its path. That stare was now focused on Nate, boring a judgmental hole through the boy. “Say that again and speak up so I can properly fucking hear you.”

Head down, fists clenched in fear, Nate cleared his throat and spoke in a trembling voice. “I made the school soccer team, and I need money for cleats and shin guards.”

The room went silent for a moment, the storm clouds in Lester’s eyes growing darker. He shifted in his recliner, the creaking leather sounding like a wet fart in the silence. “You have to be kidding me, right? Not football, not baseball, not any of the great American pastimes. Oh no, my boy has to be a Euro fag and pick soccer.” Lester balled his fist and slammed it into the arm of his chair. “Is that what you’re really trying to tell me, boy? Huh? Do you like to suck dick?”

Tears began to form in Nate’s eyes, but he knew that if he let them fall, he would only add fuel to the accusatory fire sent his way. “No, sir,” he mumbled.

“Did you hear this, Judy?” Lester spun around in his chair to yell at his wife, who was preparing dinner in the kitchen. “Your fruit son wants to play soccer, and he wants me to pony up for the privilege.”

Wiping her hands on an apron that read “Made with Love and Leftovers,” Judy stepped into the living room, the smile on her face dissolving when she looked at her husband. Judy had been a stunningly beautiful woman when she met Lester, but the years with the man had not been kind. Her auburn hair had lost its luster and was now shot through with grey. Worry lines carved deep gashes beside her eyes and lips, and the area beneath her eyes now looked permanently bruised. “What was that, hon?” She asked, a fake smile now back on her face.

“Fuck me sideways,” Lester spat. “Are you deaf and fucking stupid?”

“S..Sorry, baby. I couldn’t hear…”

“Yup. Deaf and fucking stupid. I said, YOUR FRUIT SON WANTS TO PLAY SOCCER,” Lester roared.

Judy flinched as though gut punched, something that she was certainly accustomed to. “Playing a sport might not be a bad idea, Les.” The moment the words passed her lips, Judy knew she had made a grievous error.

Launching himself out of his chair, Lester kicked the tray table sitting in front of him, sending it flying across the room. The coffee mug that had been sitting on it smashed against the wall, brown liquid streaming down the blue and yellow patterned wallpaper, making it look like a piece of fecal abstract art. Not content with that level of destruction, Lester snatched up the ashtray from the arm of the couch and sent it sailing in the direction of his wife.

Eyes wide in terror, Judy remained still as the ashtray missed her by inches before smashing into the kitchen cabinets. It all seemed to happen in slow motion for her. She marveled at the patterns created by the light as it flew past and felt an urge to smoke when the scent of spent cigarettes drifted into her nostrils.

Lester looked back and forth between his wife and son, as though trying to decide which one to erupt on first. Unable to decide, he let out a scream and snatched up his jacket, which was draped over the back of the recliner. “If you two fuckwits think I am spending my hard-earned money on cock-sucking lessons, you are both out of your fucking minds.”

Nate cowered as his father headed in his direction, but the man blew by, like a tornado sparing a single trailer, and bolted out the door, slamming it behind him as he left. Now that he was gone, the tears came easy. Nate hated crying, hated feeling weak, but it was anger that opened the flood of tears. His father spoke of hard-earned money but in the eleven years that Nate had been on this shitty planet, he had never known the man to work a single day. Lester Givens’ main pastime was sucking off the government tit and giving the majority of the money to bars, whores, and bookies.

A strange calm settled over the house, the aftermath of a passing storm. Nate stared at the front door, which still appeared to be trembling under the power of the slam. He was sure that his father was finally going to hit him, the way Lester often launched into his mother. He knew that the first blow was coming. The moment his father believed Nate to be an adult, the fists would come raining down.

“He’ll never hurt you, baby.”

Nate spun on his heels at the sound of his mother’s voice, wondering if she could somehow read his mind. She was on her knees, picking up the pieces of the shattered coffee mug and sticking the broken shards in the pocket of her apron. “How can you say that, Mom? Especially with how he treats you.”

Sitting on the floor, Judy stared at her son, her eyes filled with sorrow so deep they looked bottomless. “Because if he does, he knows I’ll kill him.”

Mouth hanging open, Nate let the statement sink in, positive he had misheard the words. “I don’t…”

With a loud groan and a pop of joints, Judy rose to her feet and moved to her son, pulling him into a warm embrace. “He can hurt me all he wants. I can take it. What I cannot stand for is him ever laying a hand on you.” She pulled out of the hug and held Nate at arm’s length. “Do you hear me, Nate? I will never let him hurt you.”

“We could leave. You and me. I’m not even sure he would notice,” Nate said, the anger now bubbling in his belly.

“That’s not what I promised when I married him. For better or worse means something to me.” Judy smiled and took Nate’s hand. “I think I have something that could make things a little better for you.” She led the boy into the kitchen, picking their way through the shattered remains of the ashtray.

“What are you doing, Mom?”

Judy reached up and opened a cabinet, the front of which was stained in ashes that looked like a Rorschach test. She pulled out an old tin and opened it, the scent of roasted coffee beans filling the air. Reaching in, she pulled out a wad of bills, peeled off a couple and handed them to her son. “Will this be enough for what you need?”

Looking at the money in his mother’s hand, Nate thought of the cleats he wanted, and the ball that he could also buy with the money. What broke through it all, though, was guilt. Nate wondered what the real purpose of the money was for his mother. Maybe the better or worse line was a lie, and she was planning an escape, leaving the men in her life in the dust.

She peeled off another bill, assuming her boy’s silence as something other than what it was. “How about now? Is this enough?” Judy was almost pleading now.

“Mom, I can’t take your money. You might need it to…you know…leave.”

Judy recoiled as though she had been slapped. “Is that what you think? That I would leave without you?” She pressed the money into her son’s hand. “This is all for you. If there is ever anything, ANYTHING, you need, you tell me. Got it?”

Nate gripped the money tight, tears welling in his eyes once more. “I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you. Let me clean up, and then we can go shopping.”