Between the Barn and the Stage

6

I stood in the rain, listening to my mother yell at me. Honestly, it went in one ear and out the other. I just wanted out of the rain and I had managed to lock myself out of my truck with the keys inside. Yet my mother refused to let me inside her car. "It's new, clean and dry. You aren't." is all she said when I complained, which really struck a nerve.

She's been yelling for five minutes and counting. Literally, I've counted the seconds. And that's a long time when you're out in the rain. The cold, damp, wet rain. Covered in dirt. Cold and wet to the bone. I have to admit, this is a sauna compared to the Alaskan lakes, but I was still cold.

I decided to tune in and hear what she was yelling about now. "--for hours! Why didn't you call me? Why were you even out in the rain?! Why--" oh, never mind. She's yelling out to the world her issues and no longer yelling at me. I saw movement across the road, and saw the bus pulling up to the bus stop. A certain someone stepped off, and locked eyes with me.

I bet he could hear my mom.

"--Young lady, listen to me! You should have called me when you left this morning! Who's house were you at? Tell me so I can call them and have a talk as to why they left my daughter in the rain!"

"That's my truck, mom." I said, pointing to the rusty old Chevy that was going to get more rusty because of the downpour right now.

"That's yours?!?! Why did you run over a tree?! Are you drunk? What is wrong with you, I'm calling the cops, Dylan! My daughter needs some discipline--"

"I'm not drunk, mom."

"Don't you dare interrupt me again! You are ruining everything, I just hope Darla can understand!"

"Who is Darla?"

"I adopted a little girl this morning. She's absolutely perfect, unlike my only child."

"Mom, you have Sam."

"He is no son of mine! The imperfect dumb little brat--"

"He is perfect just the way he is! You should blame yourself he is the way he is! Your genetics, after all! If you were any decent mother, you would actually pay attention to your kids! What they have an interest in! Oh, and I spoke to dad today, I hope you know he'll be dead in a month! You're jumping for joy now aren't you, because one blemish in your life is gone! What, else...oh, I know! Your parents, my grandparents, our neighbors! You lied to me--"

"ENOUGH! You will close your mouth, walk home, and you are grounded! No television, no phone, no friends, and no father for a month! Maybe then you'll understand why I ignore your brother, because he's the only person you'll see on a daily basis! Good bye, Dylan, see you when you get home! AND YOU'RE PAYING THE INSURANCE BILL!!!"

She rolled up her window, and froze. Standing in front of her car was a guy with a black umbrella, black fedora, too-big sunglasses and an all-too familiar trench coat.

"What type of mother are you?" Chatham asked, seething. My mother rolled her window back down. "Get out of my way, young man, before I make you!" she shouted.

"You wouldn't want to do that, I'll sue you."

"You were invading on a private conversation--"

"If it was private, then how come I could hear it from on the bus? Honestly, your daughter told me you were into being perfect, but I think she was sugar coating you. You are a horrible woman, leaving your daughter dirty in the rain, putting a car above her health. Yeah, go ahead, go into drive and run me over. Just know your insurance bill and debt to me will skyrocket."

"Dylan, do you know this man? I didn't know you were with druggies. I'm even more disappointed--"

I threw a ball of mud at her. It slowly slid down her face, and I said, "Oops, I was aiming for your car. So then it could be dirty and wet, and me being inside wouldn't be a problem. But I guess since you're now dirty and wet, I can come in."