91 lines
5.6 KiB
Plaintext
91 lines
5.6 KiB
Plaintext
LEFTOVER STEW
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by Patrick Barnes
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1
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Jason Brennan knew exactly what was for dinner the second he opened the
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large wooden front door to his two story tract house at 4:23 that early October
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evening.
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2
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He had walked just a mile and a half from his high school (where he bore
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the dreaded title of Freshman) and was trying to figure out how to break some
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very bad news to his parents the whole way. As he trudged up the familiar
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sidewalk path that was his daily journey home, he noticed that the asphalt
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streets and concrete sidewalks had been repaved with red and orange leaves. They
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were blanketing the earth, as they always did this time of year, laying forth
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a plush carpet of crimson and gold. He was thinking how beautiful it all looked
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and how beautiful the world was, and how trivial the failed Biology test was in
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the whole scheme of the world, and how someday he would probably laugh at this
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whole thing- AND HOW HIS FATHER WOULD REACT WHEN HE TOLD HIM THAT HE HAD FAILED
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A BIOLOGY EXAM THEY HAD BOTH STUDIED FOR TOGETHER FOR OVER A MONTH.
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When he turned the corner onto his street, he saw that his father was not
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yet home from work because the green Volvo station wagon wasn't parked outside
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in the driveway. He was relieved but he knew that he was just delaying the
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inevitable. Besides, his mom would be home. Jason looked beyond his house to the
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neighbors'. There were two young children, a boy and a girl, jumping and playing
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wildly in a giant pile of raked leaves. They were giggling hysterically, and
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Jason realized that the girl was his sister, Jenny. Jenny, the girl he always
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picked on, teased and made fun of. As he looked at her, innocently throwing
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leaves, a giant smile across her young, smooth face, he thought of how much he
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loved his little sister, and how he really would do anything for her. Jason had
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reached his driveway now, and Jenny's head poked up from out of the pile,
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fragments of leaves in her tangled brown hair. "Hi, Jason!" she called out.
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"Hi, Jason!" her young friend echoed. Jason smiled and waved to both of
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them, but they had already returned to frolicking in their autumn fortress.
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He trudged up the three brick steps that led to the front door and watched
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himself put one foot in front of the other. He checked to see if the door was
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unlocked and indeed it was. As he pushed it open slowly, so as to not call
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attention to himself, two of his senses were instantly greeted at the door like
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some terrible welcoming commitee.
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First, his nose caught the odor of something that only took his brain an
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instant to identify. And then, screaming to project her voice over what sounded
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like Donahue on television, was Jason's mother.
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"THAT YOU JASON ?!" she called out.
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"Yeah, I'll be in my romm," he said as he walked up the stairs.
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"It's Friday, we're having leftover stew!"
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Jason didn't hear her and he didn't need to, smelling the effluvium
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emanating from the kitchen was like reading tonight's menu. He walked into his
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room(kept neat for a fourteen year old boy) and flicked on the light.
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He threw his backpack on the floor and it landed with a THUD. He was going
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to take off his shoes, but before he could, he was lying on his bed, already
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feeling the tension releasing from his body. And before the second hand on his
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1950's replica Coca-Cola clock turned 360 degrees, he had fallen asleep.
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Two hours later, he woke to the sound of Jenny's voice.
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"Jason? Jason, it's time for dinner. Jason, it's-"
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Jason opened his eyes and was staring straight at her. When she saw that
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he had awaken, she turned around and exited his room, humming some grade-school
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tune. He got up, looked at himself in the mirror, and fluffed out his hair.
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He could hear the clatter of dishes and silverware downstairs and the faint
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voices of his mother, and father, who apparently had arrived while Jason slept.
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3
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He had began to walk downstairs, hoping, (praying) that his father wouldn't
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ask him about the test. MAYBE HE'S FORGOTTEN, he thought as he walked into the
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kitchen. MAYBE HE HAD A BAD DAY AT WORK AND HE ISN'T EVEN THINKING ABOUT THE
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TEST. MAYBE HE'LL TALK ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE, MAYBE HE'LL-
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"How did you do on your test, son?" he heard his dad say. He looked up and
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saw both of his parents staring at him. Or was it THROUGH him? It looked as
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though they were looking beyond his face, directly into his brain, trying to
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come up with the answer before he decided to tell it. Even Jenny who had been
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going full speeed on her dinner, (or had perfected the art of faking it) stopped
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and looked at him. The repulsive smell of the stew was penetrating his nostils
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and he would have grimaced, had he not been the subject of his family's
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excruciating stares.
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"What test?"
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"Your biology test, of course."
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I FAILED GODDAMIT, I FAILED THE TEST, I GOT AN 'F,' YOU SONOFABITCH - IT
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HAPPENS YOU KNOW ! he almost said - but he didn't. An instead he heard himself
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say, "Welll . . . I got an 'A'" and then he added, "an A minus, actually," just
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to make himslf sound more truthful.
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Everyone sighed out of relief and smiles appeared on their faces. The
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tension was gone immediately. And for a second there, Jason thought he really
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did get an 'A' on the test.
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"Great, son! We're very proud of you," they said almost in harmony. His
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mother slapped some stew on his plate and that was that.
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"Thanks," he said.
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That night, Jason Brennan had nightmares, and he woke the next morning with
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a bad aftertaste in his mouth.
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