Talitha Koum

Interlude II

TALITHA KOUM

INTERLUDE II

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Tommy’s mother lay in her bed upstairs.

She laid in bed a lot now. She was always saying she was tired and stayed in her room most days. She didn’t eat every day and when she did, it was only in tiny bits. She didn’t cook very often either. Many times, it would be Tommy’s sister that would cook dinner for the two of them. She and Tommy had to do a lot more of the chores around the house too. He never smiled when he ate his sister’s cooking.

The sun had just begun to peek her eyes out over this fresh, November morning. Tommy was getting ready to go out, now tying up his boots at the door. His friends were waiting for him at the school. This year, as usual, they had watered down part of the field behind the school and turned it into an ice rink. Tommy was going down to the rink to practise skating. This winter, he had determined to spend some time every weekend at the rink.

The coach had told him last year that Tommy’s skating was the main reason he couldn’t be on the hockey team. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t manage skating and handling the puck at the same time. His coach hadn’t minced his words. He said that he had seen all sorts of kids skate in his many years of coaching and quite honestly, he didn’t think Tommy had it in him to be a hockey player. Maybe he should apply himself to other things instead. Maybe painting.

After hearing that, Tommy had grit his teeth all the way home. Though his coach didn’t know it, Tommy was, in fact, taking painting lessons at the local community centre and brought home new pieces for the fridge every week. He and his mom would stand back from the fridge and admire them together, smiling. One week after he heard his coach’s suggestion, Tommy quit the painting classes. Starting the same week, he began his outings to the school rink.

~~~

Tommy finished one boot and eased it onto the floor, avoiding the board that creaked. He plucked up the other one, slid his foot in and began lacing it up.

“Thomas?” His mother’s voice trailed out from her room on the second floor.

“Drattit!” He spit out beneath his breath. In a louder voice that he aimed upstairs with, he cried out, “Yeah, mom?” He didn’t stop tying his boots. In fact, he sped up.

“Where are you going, honey?”

“Just out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah. The guys are waiting for me at the school.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Please God, please God, pleasepleaseplease…”

“Honey, can you come up here for a minute?”

He screwed up his eyes and cursed under his breath again. “But Mom, I really have to go! Like this minute!”

“Thomas…” She coughed. “…just for a second...”

Tommy’s shoulders slumped.

He shook his head from side to side, as he yanked off the laces that he had done up already. He kicked off the boots and let them bang against the wall on the other side of the landing. They left dark brown stains that joined the colony of brown brothers and sisters already there, another stroke toward the refinishing of the once pastel, beige wall with a more earthy tone.

Tommy trudged up the stairs, dragging every footstep.

He stamped into her bedroom. The blinds were down and the drapes were drawn over on top. The only sunlight on this bright, winter day that made it through the obstacles in steel and fabric was sneaking in between the cracks in the blinds, and then through the gap between the curtains. The air moved in blocks and tasted like bleach. Mother was in bed with the sheets covering her body all the way to her chin. The portable heater was revving along like a car in the Molson Indy.