The Things I Couldn't Say #wattys2016

Part IV

Childhood can be captured in photos. It can be remembered through sounds and smells. A song playing on the radio.

For me, my most vivid memories came back through images. The blue and tan floral place mats, with the lace trim, that sat on our oval maple table. The rooster border in our kitchen that divided the blue checkered wallpaper below and the creamy beige paint above. The corduroy couch that left heavy imprints on my cheek after a nap. The comfort of the mundane – the constants.

Some memories I wanted to forget, but they were part of me, so deeply ingrained they couldn't be separated from me any more than my fingerprints could.

The memories flooded in – a constant stream of things I didn't particularly want to remember but couldn't seem to forget.

I pushed the Cornish hen around my plate, careful not to let it touch the scalloped potatoes or green bean caesar. I forced the white meat onto my fork, raise it to my mouth and pull it off the tines, mindlessly chewing.

My stomach had been squishy and fast all day - couldn't stop thinking about the man from the bank. If I was lucky enough to fall asleep without Mom having to lay beside me, I'd still wake up sweaty and afraid. He always found me in my dreams.

I just wanted some peace, but Mom and Pops were arguing about Bradley. I didn't know what it was about but he must've be in trouble again.

Pops took a sip of his red wine and swallowed.  "It's time for tough love, Carmen."

Mom slammed her fork down. "He needs more love, not less."

"How many chances does he get?" Pops shook his head. "He's a trouble maker. Drugs, bad crowd, trouble with the cops. He's a disgrace."

I wished they'd stop talking about him. My belly just started feeling better and their conversation had made it swimmy again.

Bradley was Pop's son from a different lady. He was mostly really nice to me, except he tickled me too much. I peed my pants twice because of him. So embarrassing. He teased me about it forever but then Pops gave him trouble for it so now he doesn't tease me anymore - but he doesn't tickle me either.  I missed it. I shouldn't have told on him. I  hoped that wasn't why he was sent back to live with his Mom.

"Well, he wants to come over this weekend," Mom said.

Pops grunted.

I didn't understand why he didn't like Brad. Mom said it was complicated.

Maybe it was because Brad got in trouble all the time. I didn't like to get in trouble, and I certainly didn't want to take the chance that Pops wouldn't love me anymore. I worried even more that I'd be sent to live with my Dad. When I had kids I'm going to love them forever - even if they were bad.

"Don't be like that Dave," Mom scolded. "Brad is really trying, we have to give him a chance".

"He's had enough chances." He looked over at me, my head leaning on my hand, rolling my eyes. "Elbows off the table, Shorty."

"Well, he coming this weekend." Mom pointed at him. "And you're going to treat him better than you did last time."

It felt like a fish was flopping around in my belly. I hated when people argued. "May I be excused?"

Mom looked over at me, a little surprised. Had she forgotten I was sitting there?

"Of course, Honey. Clear the table first, please."

Mom and Pops finished their wine while I cleared the table. I brought the dishes to the sink and scraped the half eaten food off into the garbage disposal - it sounded so angry. I went back to the table and cleared the rest of it. I rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. "Can I go watch TV now?"