#065 ~ The Boy on the Porch

The Boy on the Porch

Rod Tanzol

One chilly evening, a boy of five sat there on the bench on the porch outside his house. He unseasonably wore shorts and a t-shirt when jeans, a sweater, and a scarf were more appropriate. His feet hung, barely grazing the ground; they dangled above the ground in rhythm opposite the wind. The clenching lumps that the boy knew as his hands lay folded on his lap as he twiddled his thumbs nervously. Anxiety consumed the small boy.

He shivered in the wind and shuddered at his thoughts. In the noisy solitude of his mind, he reviewed that day a thousand times:

His already irked mother yelled, "Wear something warmer; you'll freeze to death!"

The boy cried, "NO!"

"I can't deal with you!" she yelled as she walked out of the boy's bedroom. "When I return you'd better be dressed!"

The boy waited until his mother left his room before he screamed once more and slammed his door shut! His mother let out a frustrated roar! His father yelled, "That does it! How dare you slam your door, boy! Honey, get my toolbox!"

The boy panicked behind his closed door to recount every detail of his parents’ actions, but he pleaded with a red face, wet eyes, and a salty face, "I'm sorry!” His parents yelled at him to shut up and that it was too late; the boy had already screwed up. A few whacks of a hammer later, the pegs popped out, and the door was off its hinges.

The boy threw a tantrum, feeling violated. Although fully dressed, the boy crossed his arms and hid exposed body. The boy was hysterical. His mother resolved, "Go outside, you spoiled brat!” He wouldn't budge; his father dragged him out of the house.

The boy waited outside a little longer. He couldn't rationalize what happened; he was just too young. He concluded to simply avoid his parents and remain quiet. His mother let him in after everyone's nerves calmed. The boy didn't feel welcomed or forgiven. The house fell hostile; he felt incomplete; he did not know when he'd have a door again.