Eventide by Cindy Martinusen Coloma

Author:Cindy Martinusen Coloma [Martinusen, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2018-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

EDDIE STARED DOWN at Bobby P. on the ground before him. “I told you not to say that!”

Then he saw the blood on the corner of Bobby’s mouth. He’d really hurt him; his own fist hurt too. Tears streamed down Bobby’s face as he jumped up and ran for the teacher. The other kids were staring at Eddie. But it wasn’t his fault.

Last year in first grade, Bobby P. called him “mama’s boy” for the first time. It was at recess like today, on a day after his mom had helped in class. Bobby P. didn’t say it nicely. His mom often called him “my boy.” He’d lain in bed that night, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, wondering what was bad about being his mommy’s boy.

The next time his mom said, “Come here, my favorite boy in the world,” Eddie asked her about it. She said that Bobby P. didn’t live with his mom, and he was probably sad about that. “Sometimes when people are sad about something, they are mean to other people.”

“Why?” he remembered asking.

“No one knows for certain. Maybe ’cause hurt can turn to anger, or we get upset seeing people happy with things we don’t get to have. We humans are strange that way.”

Eddie tried to understand, but Bobby P. kept calling him “mama’s boy.” Today, he got so mad, he wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Eddie, I need to talk to you.” Mrs. Smith’s face didn’t have its usual kind expression. Eddie realized he was crying, which made him angrier. He wiped his cheeks and tried to keep the tears inside. Across the playground, Bobby P. was being taken to the bathroom by the recess duty teacher.

“Eddie, is something wrong?”

He wouldn’t look at her. “No.”

“Come on, this isn’t like you. Why would you punch another student?”

Eddie didn’t want to talk. He wanted to just slide inside himself or run away . . . that’s what he wanted to do, run far away.

“Eddie. You know I have to call your mom about this.”

The anger welled up inside again. “You can’t call her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s too sick to answer.”

The teacher paused a moment. Eddie knew his dad had told the teacher that they needed a conference. He knew it

157 was about what they’d told him last night, that the doctors thought his mom would die.

“Bobby P. was making fun of me,” he said.

“What did he say?”

“He said . . . he said . . . that I was a mama’s boy.” Shame flushed his face and neck, and an aching confusion hurt his stomach as he both wanted and didn’t want to be a mama’s boy.

“Okay, we’ll talk with Bobby P., then, too. It’s going to be okay.”

But Eddie knew; his mom and dad had said so last night. It wasn’t going to be okay. Never, ever.

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