The Deeper Dark

Sweet Revenge

"You have to go through it to get to it."

Dalton roared down a suburban street in his souped-up Nissan Altima his mother had signed for and made most of the payments on to make sure her credit didn't end up like his. It had the nicest discount wheels he could find, and the paint only had a few scratches. But he was proud of his beast. He treated it like his girlfriend even though he didn't have one.

When he took a turn on Jackson Avenue, he started to slow down. The cracks and the potholes bothered him, but it was the only way for him to get home and park in the driveway where he believed his car belonged. If he took the alley behind the house, he had to park in the yard and that just wasn't good enough for him.

He drove past the warehouse and then the eyesore that was his neighbor's house with the old ripped-up couch on the porch. He shook his head in disgust as he took another sip of his fast-food soda. Every time he passed that house, that couch was a reminder to him that his life wasn't what it was supposed to be. He was supposed to have been given such a better life than the one he had. He did the best with it is how he reasoned it out, but the yearning for a much better world was eating at him deeply.

He pulled slowly into the driveway and put it in park. He climbed out of the car in his designer jeans and fashionably ripped sweatshirt. Grabbing his bag of fast food, he then smoothly slid his sunglasses over his eyes before jetting up the three-step entrance to his humble Insulbrick one-level house.

"Is that you Dalton," a lady's raspy voice could be heard coming from the living room.

Dalton put his bag of food on the kitchen counter along with his sunglasses, "Yeah, ma."

"I've been waiting for you," she replied.

"No need to wait for me. Why were you waiting for me?"

"I wanted to see what you wanted for dinner," she responded.

"Oh, I'm good ma. I went to the place down the street and grabbed a few hotdogs," he answered.

He rolled his eyes as he could hear the springs on the couch release as she stood up and came to the entrance. Even though she was in her robe with disheveled brown hair, it was easy to see that she was a very good-looking lady with a few years on her. She looked at him with a serious stare, "You got hotdogs?"

He nodded with slight hesitation, "Yeah."

"I like those hotdogs," she nodded back, "You didn't get your momma one?" She cocked her head with a hard stare.

He cocked his head the other way as his eyes darted around the room before finally catching hers, "No. Sorry, ma. I wasn't thinking."

She shook her head, "Real good, son. Real good."

"You want a hotdog? I'll go get you a hotdog," he responded in guilt.

"Don't worry about it now. You were there. You didn't think of me then, don't think of me now," she laid it on thick.

He smirked and shook his head, "Mom, I'll go get you a hotdog if you want a hotdog."

She put her hand on her hip and took a few steps into the kitchen, "If you really cared, you would have already done left."

He stood in the middle of the kitchen like he was paralyzed. He didn't know whether to go or not. She had told him not to worry about it, but then she said what she said. If he cared, he would have already left. He was in a dilemma. He couldn't figure his way out of it.

"Don't worry about it, son," she left him off the hook, "I'll whip something up."

"You sure, ma?"

She winced as she rubbed her belly, "Yeah. I just went to the market, Dalton. I've got stuff."