Thursday, April 11, 2013

Sully, a spirited child, a middle child, sat at the table playing legos.  All was quiet except for the random "tink" of a lego hitting the wood floor.  Each time a lego would fall from the gathering height table, the boy tensed, held still, like a deer in headlights.

After a moment of realizing his hair trigger, intolerant of random noise father was not in the room or bothered by the sound, he'd slump off the chair, collect his rogue brick, and clammer back to his make believe world.

While playing, he heard the door open, he knew his father was returning from outside.

"Hi Daddy!" his sweet little voice warm and expecting.  His father did not respond, incapable of processing the sweet child's greeting.

Sully, seemingly unaffected by the icy lack of return, continued to play, carefully arranging the legos to prevent them from hitting the floor.

"Daddy, I'm a little hungry." But the empty vessel did not respond.  No eye contact, no glance, just lifeless and robotic movement aimlessly around the house.

Hunger always seems to strike this boy down suddenly, and what was a little rumble in his belly, now is a full on flip into survival mode, cave man like mode.

"Daddy!  Eat! Now!"

The legos no longer pacified the boy and the pint size boy was going to have to sing for his supper.

"Dad?  Dad.  Dad.  Daaaaaaaad."

This was enough to awaken the beast.  The usual, sloth-like movements of the father disappeared and in a blink of an eye he towered over the boy.

"WHAT!?" He growled through clenched teeth.  "Sully! WHAT?"

The child rolled into himself, spirit and heart breaking- no words could come.

Tears came, and turned into sobs, sobs that originated from so deep inside this child.

Tears and sobs and sounds that look like spikes in a wavelength make the monster so much more....

Just as the father loomed over the boy- the mother returned from work.  Opening the door, she heard the cries from her blood, her sweet little Solomon.

She flew up the stairs- she saw the posturing- and without even setting her bags down, stepped in to prevent another fight- another death of spirit.

"Sully" she said softly wrapping herself around him, "Sully cries because his heart is hurting".  The sobs ripple away and are replaced with sniffles, the occasional rise and fall of hurt from within.

She turned toward the offender, "GO. AWAY."  She mouthed at him, and he retreated, though she felt him pacing somewhere behind them.

"Sully boy, what do you need?"

His face buried in her chest, he could only shake his head "noooooo".

Angry father chimes in "He wouldn't listen!  He wouldn't answer me!"

"Sullyboy, tell momma please....."  The mother coaxes and begs the boy back to safe feelings.  After a moment, a moment to which he had to work up the courage to leave this safe zone, his mother's arms, this soft landing, he slipped slowly off of her, quietly, almost stealthy, went to the fridge.

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