Special: reminiscing

I came home. It was after midnight, and I'd just had a moment with Finley, and all I wanted was to tell my mother about it. Finley'd been haivng panic attacks for awhile....

"Where have you been? It's after midnight! It's nearly one in the morning!"

"Oh, mom, you'll never guess---"

"Have you been drinking?" She screamed. "Drugs!? What!? This is... this is so unlike you!" She whirled around to hit me, and I jumped out of the way---and she pulled on my fortuneteller necklace.

A gift from Tolien, who smiled, who'd said I had a real gift and it was about time I started using it. I told everyone I got it from my aunt; but each time I fondled those bright colored beads, I felt strength. I felt love and happiness and I pictured Schultz and I was okay again.

She pulled and the beads slipped out of me. Tears wrung my eyes like a suicidal man squeezes the sun for blood.

"And another thing!" my mother, normally so gentle and kind to me, was now on a full-fledged rampage.  "This magic shit of yours. Can't you talk like a normal person? You're not Harry Potter, Payton. You act like a freak and people will treat you like one!"

Pops, seeing mom upset, glanced at my t-shirt. Grey with gold lettering, it read, Imagination.

He glared at me.

"We didn't raise you for you to--"

"Don't you ever address me as my father, ever again." I did not exclaim or even look at him, but there was a danger in my voice. A danger I keep in my heart for those who cross my path.

"Payton!" my mother was shocked. "We'll talk about this more later, young lady."

"No. You have no right to reprimand me for being myself, for speaking in a manner due to a lady of my status--"

My mother sneered. "Speak to me in Englis--I won't hear this, anyway! Go to your room, Young lady. You are grounded."

I turned and walked from the kitchen, down the street. I was barefoot and it was snowing, and I was cold. I kept picturing the beads on the kitchen floor....

"Get in this car this instant, Payton. Now!"

I kept walking, tears down my face. "No. I'm going to Finley's."

"He won't take you. Nan won't at least. Why would they want you if you act like this? This unreasonable? Get in the fucking car or so help me God I will call the cops on you. Got it!?"

I got in the car. No reason to tell them she hit me.

"Forget this," my mother snapped, "I certainly will. Obviously there's no reasoning with somebody I was once so proud of---"

no end of the sentence, her voice buckled.

There's no fighting disappointment from our mothers.