Tic Toc

Chapter Nine

That day Zeke came home with me. I didn't know what else to do to help but thought that maybe bringing him home with me would somehow help me understand what exactly was going on with Zeke and why suddenly I had this strange connection to him.

We exited the bus and ascended my driveway then entered the house. Mother was already there, she had gotten out early that day. She was shocked to see I had company.

"Mother, this is Zeke. My friend from school.. I thought that maybe we could have him for dinner," I gave mother a look pleading for her to accept my proposal and allow Zeke to stay.

"Of course he can stay for dinner. Hell, he can stay however long he wants. I have longed to meet my daughters first friend and now I get the grace to do so," Mother smiled and the smile reached her eyes, I knew it was sincere.

I turned away from mother to address Zeke but noticed he was currently looking around. He walked the floor of the living room peering at pictures of captured memories that were my own. I wasn't surprised when he ventured to Nannys old record player which she had left to Mother when she passed.

He stood first stroking the arm and needle of the player, that in which made the music audible. Then he brushed the umbrella, sheer curiosity evident on his face.

"Zeke dear, you like music don't you?" Mother said from the sofa which she had recently sat on. Zeke nodded. "Well then pick your favorite of the records and we shall play it! I'm sure my dear mummy would want nothing less than for that old thing to once again do something beautiful." My mother had not played the record player since she got it, said it reminded her too much of her own mother to do so but now for some reason that didn't matter.

Zeke picked a record and placed it in the player and music danced through the umbrella and coursed through the house. Mother prepared dinner while Zeke and I sat in the sitting room and listened to the lyrics of the record Zeke had chosen.

When dinner was prepared and ready we ventured into the dinning room which mother still insisted on eating in everyday even though it had been Father that loved it not her. We had eaten here everyday since fathers death for mother believed it brought us closer to father, as if part of him were trapped here instead of at his final resting place wherever that might be.

Every plate had been filled and just the same emptied when the conversation started with mother, "So Zeke, was everything to your liking?"

"Yes ma'am everything was great. Best meal I've had in my life."

"Oh dear im sure you eat like this everyday at home don't give credit where it isn't due."

Zeke looked down at his hands.

"What are things like at home? Do you have siblings? What do your parents do for a living?"

And then I saw it..

...

The room was dark except for what little light flooded in from the open window, the house was small and cluttered and an overweight man sat with a beer bottle in hand staring at the door. The front door swung open and in walked the very unmistakable Zeke.

"There you are boy," The man got up and clasped his hand over Zeke's shoulder and when Zeke winced he went on, "You're late!"

"Only by a few minutes dad."

"Only a few minutes?!"

"Dad, you're drunk. I'm only a few minutes late really it's okay."

"A few minutes?! It's okay?! That's what your mother said before I found out she was cheating filthy slut! No good to this family she was! That's why I didn't cry at that damned funeral, she deserved what came to her!"

"Don't you talk about her like that! Dad you're drunk you don't mean that." And at that the man threw forth a fist which collided with the side of his sons face.

"Get in your room boy! Before you face the same end as your dear old mummy. Get out of my face you damned waste of space, no good bastard."

Before stepping away from his father Zeke spit at his fathers feet, a long stream of blood. He looked him in the eyes and I could see Zeke's were swelled with tears he had not yet let fall.

He turned away and the vision ended. I was back in the dinning room sitting beside Zeke and mother beside him.

"No ma'am, my father and I don't really eat very many meals together." Dwelling on the scene I had just witnessed I knew it was clear that Zeke and his father didn't do much together at all.

What I didn't know however was that that vision I had had today at the dinner table, no matter what caused it or how it came about, the events happened that same day, for Zeke arrived to school the next day with a blackened eye and bruising along his jaw..