Entertain My Faith

Dinner

When he arrived to his porch he grabbed his keys from his backpack and unlocked the door. (There was a sign that read "God and Family Above All", and inside his house the walls were speckled with signs alike.) He threw his backpack next to the door, with intention of making Monday morning easier, and in the back of his mind not caring about his plethora of homework. His mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her stained white apron before hugging Tyler.

"Hey honey. How was school?"

"Fine."

"Fine is pretty vague."

"School's kind of vague."

"We'll talk more over dinner. You're eating with the family tonight. No excuses."

"Yes ma'am."

He stood their impatiently.

"Alright well, I'm going to finish up in there. No longer than an hour and half I'd say." She turned back to the kitchen and the "tink tink" of plates and silverware continued.

Tyler hurried downstairs to the basement. He's lately declared this space as his. The laundry room was already down here, and there was a couch. The familiar walls of his upstairs bedroom began to eat at him. But most of all, the best part about the basement was the low-budget homemade miniature studio in the back left corner.

His grandfather's rustic piano comfortably sat in front of a not-so-comfortable wooden bench. Perched on the top of the piano was a microphone, connected to a small amp, connected to an outdated laptop resting on a table behind the bench, that he had received years ago for Christmas. Next to the piano was another mic, resting atop a flimsy mic stand he found at a pawn shop. Sometimes his brother Zach would come make songs with him. He had intentions of starting a band with some school friends, but the only school friends he had were the ones on the basketball team, who have never picked up an instrument in their life.

Tyler then lifted up the top of the bench, retrieving some slightly crumpled pieces of paper and his favorite pencil. He'd begin to play a riff, begin to sing a line, scratch his head in stress, erase something off those pieces of paper, and write something else. The cycle continued. He couldn't find words to describe his emotions. Couldn't find the right concoction of sounds. He was numb. Drawing a blank.

I never know what to say

I can never do anything right

I'm failing

His train of thought was stopped by his sister Maddy at the top of the steps; "Dinner's ready, Mama told me to come get you."

He didn't respond, but she knew he was coming by the rustle of him cleaning up his papers and the echoing sound of his footsteps. He made a pitstop to the bathroom before going to the dining room, making sure his hair was fixed, and splashing water on his face to make him seem more animate and lively.

He pulled out the his normal chair next to Zach, which was across from Maddy and Jay, while his parents each sat at each end of the table. Out of routine once everyone was seated, the family held hands and in unison; "Come, Lord Jesus, be our Guest, and let Thy gifts to us be blessed. Amen." After the prayer they had the normal black and white dinner conversation. They talked about their day. About school. Basketball. Work. That new episode of whatever show they were currently into. And as normal, Tyler kept mainly quiet, poking around at his mashed potatoes, trying to motivate himself to finish his dinner so more attention wouldn't be drawn to himself. Once everyone was done eating and excused, Tyler walked as fast as he could while still appearing normal back down to the basement. Ideas blooming in his head. Yet on the brink of tears.