“Ping! Ping! Go chow!” Johnny shouted, and he threw a piece of chalk at his small blackboard, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “Go chow! Sup’, sup’po!” he shouted once more at the cold surface of the blackboard. His eyes were red and tears welled. He flopped into his tiny plastic chair, put his head between his arms and cried. “Boo-hoo hoo! Whaaaaa…”
His mother opened the door. Johnny looked up, tears staining his puffy face. Now he was angry. He pointed at his mother and shouted ” A-WA -SHO!! ”
“No!” she snapped back. “No! No!” She clapped her hands at him and clicked her tongue and shook her head. “No Chinese, Johnny! No Chinese!”
“Fugo chang gwoy!” He was furious with her! “Mang gwoy fu chow!”
That was all it took. In a flash his mother was across the room and had him by the arm. She lifted him halfway off the ground and let loose with two solid spanks.
“No Chinese!” She let him go. The brutality of his mother’s actions shocked Johnny into submission. An abuse of power. Even the insane are protected from this sort of humiliating punishment. Dare she lay a hand on any other person without permission? An act of violence. He had no respect for his mother’s child rearing skills. In fact, he suspected both his parents of being idiots and had told them just that on more than one occasion. However, there was no point in arguing. It was almost dinner time. Like it or not he was still very dependent upon his parents, and being only eight years old, he^titt found himself competing for their affection from time to time.
“Now, go wash your hands and face. Dinner’s ready.”
Macaroni night. It would be just the thing before going back to work. “Go chow! Sup.” He changed his shirt and washed his face and hands. He wet and combed his hair. A nice straight part right down the middle. He believed in looking presentable for the final meal of the day. He stood for a minute or so flicking the bathroom light on and off and squinting his right eye. It was something he couldn’t avoid doing while in the bathroom. There they were: mother, father, and sister. The sister was a few years older. He had recently taken more than a brotherly interest in her. Oh, how he lusted after the days when they would bath together. But that come to a stop some time ago, and now he has his work and she is off with boys her own age. He took his place at the table.
“Mother. Father. Good evening.”
Once again he looked ahead, eyes wide, while the family gave thanks. He had no use for their religion. For a while, at the suggestion of the family’s pastor, Johnny was made to lead the dinner prayer, but he spoke so sarcastically that they eventually let him alone. They figured he could turn to Jesus later in life like they did.
They ate. His father talked politics and basketball. His mother pretended to follow along. His father loved to lead these kind of ridiculous conversations with his mother. He had all the answers. What a guy. Ahhhh, but his sister…
“You’re looking exceptionally radiant this evening Sarah. A date, perhaps?” They got along well.
“I’m going to the mall.”
The mall. Foolishness! But perhaps he too… no! There would be time for such nonsense later. He looked again at his sister. The gap between them was growing. He feared one day it will have grown too far.
The evening was when he checked on some of his more long term experiments, all of which he made sure to make a careful record of in his science journal, along with the time and the date.
1. He examined a jar of dead flies that he kept on the windowsill. Six dead. No change.
2. A box of apples in his closet, swarmed with bugs. Progress.
3. In a cage, a lizard with no tail ate happily. Its mate lay dead, its head having been cut neatly off two days prior. No change.
4. He opened a vile of clear liquid. It contained mostly gasoline and paint thinner. He sniffed. It still made him dizzy. Interesting.
5. A jar labeled “Caca” and one labeled “Urine” were taken out from under his bed. No change in the poop, but the urine had gone down significantly. Notes were made.
6. He found the cat. She was due to give birth any day and had to be watched carefully. It was his greatest work to date.
He heard a car pull up. It was his sister coming home. He quietly pushed down on one slat in his blinds, so he could see the front porch. Timmy Rizzeli! Johnny knew his little brother. They were a notoriously bad pair, and right now Timmy was really kissing the lips off of his sister. She had her arms around his neck and tilted her head a bit to one side. They were slow kissing. Timmy whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. They were slick, the Rizzelis. She whispered back. Then they were kissing again. They were sure going at it! Timmy started working his hands over her breasts. Round and round. His sister stopped kissing and gave over to he massage. He could see Timmy pull at the nipples every now and then through the shirt. She turned away. What’s wrong? She had to go.
Johnny dropped the slat. He went to his door and waited by the hallway. His sister went straight to the bathroom. He waited. He heard the toilet flush and the shower turn on. He waited. Finally, she came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. She didn’t see Johnny watching from the dark. She went into her room and shut the door. Johnny got back in bed. He was sure she had been masturbating in there. Once she let him watch while she laid on her back in the tub and let the waterfall on her vagina. He wanted desperately to relieve himself. He decided against it. I will not touch my penis! Come hell, I will not!
The next day was Sunday, and while the rest of the family went to church, Johnny was left at home to carry on with his experiments. His parents were anything but academics. Of course, this was a most valuable time for Johnny, as it left the entire house open for experimentation; however, the kitchen was where he did the majority of his work when the rest of the family was out.
Today, he boiled his own shit in a pot of piss. Interesting. Then he ate some coffee grounds. Ick! He burned some of his hair. He opened up a can of corn and flushed it down the toilet. Clockwise? Interesting. He flushed the lunch his mom had prepared for him. He made notes. He poured milk, vinegar, salt, ketchup, and cola into a glass and froze it. Lastly, before cleaning up, he put the cat in the microwave for ten seconds on high. Radiation therapy. No permanent effects. He opened and shut the refrigerator door several times while squinting his right eye; an impulse he felt impossible to curb. He opened and squinted, a slave to the irrational part of himself.
©2002 Gordy Amede
