THE M&M BOYS by Lara Reznik

Author:Lara Reznik [Reznik, Lara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ENCHANTED INDIE PRESS
Published: 2015-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

MARSHALL

AS THE SUMMER DAYS passed, my mother barely left her room. In the mornings I’d knock on her door with buttered toast and a mug of coffee, and she’d say something weird like, “Is that you, Edmund?” When I’d remind her it was me, Marshall, she’d respond, “Give me a minute, son, and I’ll make you breakfast.” Then she’d go back to sleep.

I was afraid to leave her alone, terrified of what I might find when I got home. Without making excuses, I stopped going to baseball practice, and only left the house to run a quick errand for Roger and Mick, or buy us groceries at Mr. Gelaro’s. I used what money I earned and he let me buy the rest on credit.

Early Saturday evening, Bobby stopped by the house and banged on the door.

I was surprised and so happy to see anyone that I practically hugged him as I opened the screen door and invited him inside.

Instead of coming in the house, he stayed on the porch with his feet planted wide apart. A vein in his neck bulged out as he stood there silently.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong! You missed our second All-Star game. Coach Lee had to play efin Bernie Jackson in your place.”

Bernie, son of Commissioner Jackson, wore coke-bottle glasses and couldn’t see a hippopotamus if it was kissing distance from him. “So, we lost?”

“Whaddaya think? It didn’t take long for Forest Hills to figure out alls they needed to do was hit the ball to right field. Fly balls, grounders, it didn’t matter. Bernie fumbled them all.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“Everyone’s pissed off at you. Thought you should know that.” He huffed off down the street.

When I delivered a bowl of SpaghettiOs to my mother a few minutes later, she flung it against the wall and screamed, “Get out!”

“Why are you acting like this, Ma?”

Her face turned the color of the tomato sauce on the wall. “Don’t you get it? I can’t stand for you to see me like this.” She pulled the covers over her head.

My whole body shuddered. Should I call Aunt Ethel? Dad always said that our family’s problems were nobody’s business but ours. One time, he’d caught my mother talking on the phone to my aunt about how a check bounced at Con Ed. He’d grabbed the receiver right out of her hand and slammed it back on the phone.

To hell with him. I raced downstairs, grabbed the phone from the kitchen wall, and dialed Aunt Ethel’s number. I hated to bother my aunt since she worked the graveyard shift in a hat factory. When I explained what was going on with Ma she said she’d come right over.

“Tomorrow’s fine,” I said. “She’s already asleep.” Money was tight and my aunt couldn’t afford to miss a night of work. I wondered if there was such a thing as “good lying.” Maybe I’d ask Roger about it.

The next morning, Aunt Ethel and Bobby showed up at the front door.

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