Dressing Room Chronicles

Chapter 2: Chaos.

“So what happened to homophobic pervert?” Sasha rolls her eyes. “I misjudged him, Danny. He just says and does certain things he doesn’t really mean.” I shrug, “Likely story.” My ma throws me a dirty look. “You’re lucky I even let you come here. The

least

you could do is help.” She wouldn’t let me put up or display the Glass House exhibit but she sure will let me take it down.

“Did you even look at my design book?” “It’s now late June; which is begins our busiest period. Ask me again in December. Right now, I don’t have time for your qualms, Danny. If it bothers you that much, go see a therapist.” I chuckle, “Are you paying for one?” I can tell by her flinch that ma’s tired of my smart ass mouth. “You’re done here. Take the keys.” “What?”

“Take my car and go home. You’re done here.” “Fine.” I never thought she’d be the one to isolate me. That’s usually reserved for my father. Speaking of him, he informs me, “I need you to roof with us today.” I toss the keys on the counter. “What? I don’t roof.” He hands me his truck keys. “I know you don’t. But, Riley, Austin, Willy, and I have to make sure the materials are secure so we need you to drive. Maybe you could draw something while we real men do the work.”

I ignore his shade. “Alright, Dad.” Just a few more months, Danny. Then you’ll be on your own. Austin seems to read my mind. “Independence is not all it’s cracked up to be. Now, don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to be in charge of your own life. But, don’t overestimate what it is to really be alone. You’ll see when you get to college.” “If,” Riley counters. “Danny doesn’t look like he’ll make it through the summer.” I cut my eyes. “What do you mean?” “I’ve read your journal entries. I know what you think about.”

“Those were private thoughts for my eyes only. How dare you?” My brothers and father wonder, “What did he write?” “Danny wants to kick the bucket.” I close my eyes. Maybe it’s a sign from God that you need to talk to someone. My brothers grow silent but dad asks, “Why would you want to do that?” I don’t respond. He should already know why.

“How do you know he wanted us to know that? It was something in his journal.” I turn back to see the words emitting from Willy’s lips. Perhaps I was wrong about him. “Well, someone should know. If it were to happen, that would make our family look bad.”

Riley’s last comment angers me on a new level. I jerk the truck left and we’re all falling into Lake Michigan. The truck jerks itself right and I’m awake. I instinctively check for my journal inside my pillow case. It’s not there.

“The bend of your hair matched by the curve of your hips along with those lovely, moist, chocolate-y lips. Your skin’s like fondue and I’d like to take triple dips. Then there’s the way---”

“You can move a whole room. Sweep me away with your metaphorical brooms.”

Riley jumps when I finish the poem for him. “Give me back my book, you thief. That’s not for you to read.” “Finders keepers.” I tackle him. “GIVE ME MY BOOK!” The entire house erupts.

“WHO’S UP?!”

Ma storms out of her room. “Riley and Danny! Of course it was you two.” She snatches the book. “Why are you fighting over this?” “I found it and Danny’s mad about that.” I yell, “IT’S MY BOOK.” She smacks me across the face. “People are sleeping. Have some respect.” I grab my old design book.

“This…this is lack of respect. My yelling is a reaction to your son’s lack of respect. I’ve done all that I can to remain respectful, Ma! So don’t give me that bullshit!” She smacks me again and goes to get my old soap box. “One leg. NOW!”